“Green, I think.” Willis walked around Phillip, looking him up and down. Willis had shown up at Ivan and Eunice’s apartment moments earlier, declared, “Darling! You are the perfect blank slate!” and had proceeded to circle Phillip as Ivan made a hasty introduction.
Ivan and Eunice, as it turned out, were a couple. Albert hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said something about accommodating the members’ wishes. Apparently, that extended beyond job preferences, and into their off-duty lives.
It also answered his question about sex. They were two of the kissingest people he’d ever met. Every damned time they passed each other, a peck—at a bare minimum—happened, and they’d made zero effort to censor themselves in bed last night.
“Green what?” Phillip’s chin rose. He was rather proud of how hearty his voice sounded this morning. All yesterday, he’d continually ceased breathing, and his voice had been feeble at best, using the trifling amount of air that had been left in his lungs after his last effort.
Shortly after he’d arrived at Ivan and Eunice’s apartment, a couple of staid types had shown up to debrief him on all manner of details about his life, although they’d already seemed to know an inordinate amount about it. The grilling had been exhausting, and they’d seemed particularly interested in why he’d strolled through Albert’s neighborhood that one day. They’d appeared to be pleased to hear it had been a random one-off.
But he was finally getting the swing of the whole breathing thing. Maybe it helped that he felt significantly better today, not as damned tired as he’d felt the rest of yesterday, and less freaked out by the whole “holy shit, I’m a fucking vampire” thing. Because, really, these people were so…ordinary. Still, he missed Albert.
“Eyes, darling,” Willis said. “For the new you.”
A woman, who’d been introduced as Mona, stood back as she studied him with her head tilted to the side, then she rifled through the pile of clothing she’d dumped on the table and held up various items, one after another.
Phillip turned to Willis. “You can change my eye color?”
“Cosmetic colored contacts, sweet thing. That’s just the beginning of your transformation. You’ll be amazed how successful the Clark Kent/Superman effect can be when it’s put on steroids.”
Perhaps. He could see that working in an enormous city like this, especially if he took care to avoid the parts of the city where he’d lived and hung out in the past, but not a chance in the small town where he’d grown up.
But Phillip liked his laidback appearance—his baggy clothing and loose shoulder-length, wash-and-go hair. Colored contacts were one thing, but…“What are you planning to do?”
“A complete makeover, of course. I’ll accommodate your preferences as much as I can, darling, but you can hardly walk around the city looking like Phillip Brewer, now, can you?”
Phillip glanced at Mona and winced as she held up a pair of skinny jeans. Obviously, that extended to his clothing choices, too.
“Are you going to cut my hair?”
“I can see you’re attached to your long hair. Never fear, sweet thing. I am nothing if not considerate. We’ll keep some length—on top, anyway. I’m leaning toward a sexy undercut. And highlights and lowlights will do amazing things for your hair color.” Willis handed him a contacts case. “Pop these in, and let’s take a look, shall we?”
Willis held up a hand mirror as Phillip applied the contacts. “I like them,” he said. They weren’t nearly as bright as he’d thought colored contacts would be. They simply gave his brown eyes a hint of color. He looked different without standing out, which seemed to be the name of the game.
“Perfect,” Willis said. He held up a pair of eyeglasses, black rectangular Ray-Ban frames with clear non-prescription lenses.
Phillip put them on and looked in the mirror. Between the eye color and the glasses, it was a good start. Clark Kent effect, indeed. He echoed his earlier reply. “I like them.”
Willis chuckled. “I love you already, darling. You’re so easy!”