Page 39 of Feral

Daphne

Thenextmorning,Iwas awakened by the sound of someone banging on my door. After a moment of groggy confusion, I bolted out of bed with equal parts hope and horror that it was Fraser.

“Who is it?” I asked through the door.

“Marcus and Sprite from the Archive’s Outfitters department.”

I frowned. I knew of Marcus, he was one of the agents in charge of the Outfitters, the supply department that helped agents with gadgets and such. I had no idea who Sprite was, but I opened the door anyway.

The second the door was unlatched, it was shoved open the rest of the way by a person with thick soled knee high boots, ripped fish nets, short shorts and a magenta suit jacket without a shirt. Their light brown skin was dusted with glittery powder and a cascade of dreads in many bright colors fell down their back. They lugged a large case behind them, wearing a look of exasperation accented by dark makeup.

“You couldn’t get a flat with a bloody lift?” they snarled.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I stuttered.

“Don’t mind Sprite, they haven’t had their coffee yet.”

I turned to see a young Black man about my height with gorgeous brown eyes accented by Fox style eyeliner and mermaid eye shadow. His lips were a subtle pink shade and his faux hawk was silvery white. He was clad in dark blue skinny pants, white heels and a flowing white and blue top with huge puffed sleeves.

“I’m Marcus,” he said, extending a hand with an impeccable manicure. “Pleasure to meet you, love. We’re here to go over your approved supplies.”

I eyed the two suitcases and duffel that Sprite was opening in my living room.

“Oh don’t worry, that’s not all for you. I just like to come prepared.” He let out a low whistle and gestured to the bite on my neck. “Someone had an interesting night.”

My hand clapped against the mark as heat rushed to my face.

“I, uh, it’s for my cover. For the mission.”

Marcus held up his hands.

“I’m not judging, love. I’ve had plenty of fucks on the wild side.”

Sprite snorted.

“Is there any other kind with you?”

“Someone woke up with their knickers shoved up their arse.”

Sprite flipped Marcus off and proceeded to lay out items on my couch.

“Might be best to put on a pot, love,” he whispered, “or they’ll just get worse.”

“I heard that, you wanker,”

Marcus rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Uh, sure,” I said, stumbling over my own feet as I moved toward the kitchen.

Coffee actually sounded like an awesome idea since I’d had a terrible night of sleep. I’d drifted off just fine but then I found myself waking up all throughout the night in a panic.

I’m just worried about the mission. Once I get going today I should be better. I just need to see what I’m dealing with.

I stifled a yawn as I started the coffee maker and pretended that I couldn’t hear Sprite and Marcus whisper fighting a few feet away.

“It should be ready soon,” I hollered.

“Good, come over here,” Sprite said.

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