time." She spread her arms wide. "What we do matters to millions of people, even though they don't know it. Sometimes the assignments are difficult and even painful, but they are always worth it. Can you imagine what that is like? The intense satisfaction? I know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life."
Her enthusiasm made his own life seem completely empty and pointless. It was an ugly emotion that he couldn't shake off.
"So," he said, "you're like secret police with some kind of connection to God."
She remained silent.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry." She grimaced. "Me and my big mouth. You'd think I'd learn after all these years. Now we both have a problem because you know too much. I really do apologize."
"Why? Because you'll have to kill me if I don't join your organization?"
She looked down. "Ethel will make that decision."
They were passing through the district where the wealthy came to decorate their homes. Boutique furniture stores, art galleries, and design studios lined both sides of the street. Aaron glimpsed a few price tags, and the numbers were startling. He couldn't believe people paid so much for weird furniture and art that looked like the scribbles of a three year-old kid. The rich were idiots.
"Ethel asked me questions about my religion," he said. "About God and miracles."
Marina nodded.
"Do you believe in God?"
"Of course," she said.
"Why?" He looked at her freckled face.
"He gave me this."
She held up her right hand to show off her black fingernails. They were sharpened to a needle point. There was a dull shininess at the tip, like they were slightly wet.
"I don't understand," he said.
"Do you really want me to explain? You may already know too much. This is very risky territory."
He looked into her green eyes. He wanted to know everything about her, no matter the risks. "Sure. Tell me."
She smiled a little. "God gave me these fingernails as a reward two years ago. The color is natural, not nail polish."
"How is that a reward?" He furrowed his brow.
"I'll show you. We need to sit down someplace where nobody will bother us."
It took a while, but they found a bench in a small park by the river. A single tree provided welcome shade from the summer sun. A barge filled with sand and gravel floated past on the green-brown water.
"Now lean against me," she said. "Relax. You'll feel a little prick."
He slouched down and rested his head on her narrow shoulder. He was anxious about what she would do to him, but curiosity compelled him to cooperate.
She touched her needle-sharp fingernail to his neck, and he felt a painful tickle. Seconds later a wave of tiredness passed through his body, and he fought to keep his eyelids open. His arms and legs became dead weights. He tried to speak but managed only an incoherent mumble.
"Shh," she said softly. "I gave you just a tiny dose of venom. It will pass quickly and harmlessly."
Venom? he thought.
He couldn't move, but there were worse predicaments than a beautiful woman holding him close on a clear summer day by the river. The venom didn't seem to have unpleasant side-effects aside from paralysis and sleepiness. It wasn't so bad.
"A bigger dose will cause unconsciousness," Marina said. "I can also kill. This is the gift God gave me."
The venom's effect was already fading, and Aaron managed to sit up straight. Carefully pronouncing each word, he said, "What happens if you prick yourself?"
"I'm immune."
He was very bewildered, and not just from the venom. He had seen two impossible things today, first Ethel's reflexes and now Marina's fingernails. Was he going insane?
A tourist boat floated past on the river. Two geese that were fishing in the water honked at the boat, and then they flew off.
"You keep talking," Aaron said, "and showing me things. For a secret agent or whatever you are, you're doing a bad job of keeping your mouth shut."
"You're right." She frowned.
"And your little, red dress is something special. It's too sexy by far. Do you
Her enthusiasm made his own life seem completely empty and pointless. It was an ugly emotion that he couldn't shake off.
"So," he said, "you're like secret police with some kind of connection to God."
She remained silent.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry." She grimaced. "Me and my big mouth. You'd think I'd learn after all these years. Now we both have a problem because you know too much. I really do apologize."
"Why? Because you'll have to kill me if I don't join your organization?"
She looked down. "Ethel will make that decision."
They were passing through the district where the wealthy came to decorate their homes. Boutique furniture stores, art galleries, and design studios lined both sides of the street. Aaron glimpsed a few price tags, and the numbers were startling. He couldn't believe people paid so much for weird furniture and art that looked like the scribbles of a three year-old kid. The rich were idiots.
"Ethel asked me questions about my religion," he said. "About God and miracles."
Marina nodded.
"Do you believe in God?"
"Of course," she said.
"Why?" He looked at her freckled face.
"He gave me this."
She held up her right hand to show off her black fingernails. They were sharpened to a needle point. There was a dull shininess at the tip, like they were slightly wet.
"I don't understand," he said.
"Do you really want me to explain? You may already know too much. This is very risky territory."
He looked into her green eyes. He wanted to know everything about her, no matter the risks. "Sure. Tell me."
She smiled a little. "God gave me these fingernails as a reward two years ago. The color is natural, not nail polish."
"How is that a reward?" He furrowed his brow.
"I'll show you. We need to sit down someplace where nobody will bother us."
It took a while, but they found a bench in a small park by the river. A single tree provided welcome shade from the summer sun. A barge filled with sand and gravel floated past on the green-brown water.
"Now lean against me," she said. "Relax. You'll feel a little prick."
He slouched down and rested his head on her narrow shoulder. He was anxious about what she would do to him, but curiosity compelled him to cooperate.
She touched her needle-sharp fingernail to his neck, and he felt a painful tickle. Seconds later a wave of tiredness passed through his body, and he fought to keep his eyelids open. His arms and legs became dead weights. He tried to speak but managed only an incoherent mumble.
"Shh," she said softly. "I gave you just a tiny dose of venom. It will pass quickly and harmlessly."
Venom? he thought.
He couldn't move, but there were worse predicaments than a beautiful woman holding him close on a clear summer day by the river. The venom didn't seem to have unpleasant side-effects aside from paralysis and sleepiness. It wasn't so bad.
"A bigger dose will cause unconsciousness," Marina said. "I can also kill. This is the gift God gave me."
The venom's effect was already fading, and Aaron managed to sit up straight. Carefully pronouncing each word, he said, "What happens if you prick yourself?"
"I'm immune."
He was very bewildered, and not just from the venom. He had seen two impossible things today, first Ethel's reflexes and now Marina's fingernails. Was he going insane?
A tourist boat floated past on the river. Two geese that were fishing in the water honked at the boat, and then they flew off.
"You keep talking," Aaron said, "and showing me things. For a secret agent or whatever you are, you're doing a bad job of keeping your mouth shut."
"You're right." She frowned.
"And your little, red dress is something special. It's too sexy by far. Do you
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