Girl Who Fell 1: Behind Blue Eyes. Offbeat Brit spy series-cum-lesbian love triangle. Killing Eve meets female James Bond meets Helen of Troy returns (HAIL THE QUEEN series) by Raechel Sands

Author:Raechel Sands [Sands, Raechel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tango Romeo
Published: 2018-03-17T06:00:00+00:00

Felicity dropped the white envelope into her bag.

‘I stand corrected,’ continued C. ‘It’s his wedding anniversary on Tuesday. I won’t deny him his last rights, a man of his age.’

R A E C H E L S A N D S ≥

117

Felicity rolled her eyes impatiently. ‘What’s wrong with Monday? Does Wonderland find wet jobs inconvenient on Mondays, so close to the weekend?’

‘The Office! ’ growled C, ‘not Wonderland. Monday’s Radio 2.

We can’t have him miss the B.B.C., for Christ sake… Do it Wednesday or Thursday.’

Felicity headed for the door. ‘See you later, Chumley* Jasper,’

she said. [* an English nickname; spelt Cholmondeley]

‘Am I stil required for the orphans’ fair?’ asked C.

‘Yes. Have you got the Bagatel e?’

‘I have,’ said C, starting paper work.

Just as Felicity was opening the first of a pair of double doors, C addressed her sharply.

‘You’ve forgotten something else.’

Felicity gave him her standard, bored pouting look.

C wiggled his finger for her to come back to his desk. As Felicity stepped behind it, C gave her OhZone ass a mighty slap.

Tight as sprung steel, he thought.

Felicity raised her eyebrows.

‘Just as I suspected,’ C said. ‘Neither shaken nor stirred; just slightly aroused.’

‘If you did that to Blanka, she’d have your arm off.’

‘But you’re not Blanka. ‘You’re my OhZone, and don’t you ever forget that.’

Hidden by her contact lenses, the purple tint washed over Felicity’s eyes.

Inside her head, Hebe sang out a warning.

Anger emotion outside regulation limits: suppress!

To control the surging anger, Felicity tossed her head and looked away, cascading her long hair—a gesture C knew wel .

118 ≥ GIRL WHO FELL 1

‘You’re bigger, stronger, and younger than Blanka and Sokol,’

he laughed. ‘You’re the new model… the real-life Stepford Wife!’

Taking the slip of rice paper from her hand, and holding it in front of her mouth, he taunted her.

‘You are my beast. My little wild thing.’ He pressed it against her lips. ‘Now eat this.’

Kleiner! snorted Hebe. Who would dare to call us little?

Felicity looked down at the thick carpet, imagined the pattern C’s red arterial blood would make sprinkling over it.

But would it be art? she asked Hebe.

Maybe, if we mixed Blanka’s purple blood with it, replied Hebe, laughing eerily inside Felicity’s head. But you’ve only been an OhZone four days. Bide your time.

Felicity looked C full in the face, and then she closed her eyes and parted her pink-red lips.

With a sigh within, she al owed the man who commanded MI6 to feed the rice paper between her lips; then she opened her eyes, turned her muscular body away from him, and stepped across the carpet, chewing.

‘When you’re finished, La Bombe,’ C cal ed after her. ‘Close the door behind you. And ask Miss Banks to step in.’

Felicity imitated C’s voice to amuse Hebe. When you’re finished, La Bombe, ask Miss Banks to step in, she said.

And ask Miss Banks to step in, La Bombe, Hebe reprised in her German accent.

The woman-hybrid and the AI both laughed. Felicity held the handle of the inner door in her hand, as she swal owed the rice paper.

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