The wig! How could I have forgotten there was a wig to cover up this mess? I leapt from the counter and raced the three steps it took to get from the sink to the bed where Liam had dropped it.
There were lots of layers, but eventually I figured out the front from the back. I slid it on, turned towards the mirror, and…
“Did you beat up some old lady and take her wig?” It even smelled faintly of mothballs and Chanel No. 5.
Liam scowled. “It’s not that bad.”
“All four of my grandmothers have better hair than this.”
Liam stalked over to the other bags and pulled out a second wig. This one was definitely not granny hair.
“That’s awesome!” I said as I made gimme hands. “I’ll look like a rock star!” This wig was also layered, but not in short puffs. This one had the whole razor cut edges thing going on, some trendy hipster bangs, and the coloring was a dark brown shot through with streaks of the deepest purple I ever saw.
“You’ll draw attention.”
I ripped off the monstrosity on my head and replaced it with the new wig. I just barely suppressed the urge to bounce up and down as I looked over the results. “Too bad my eyes aren’t a really light green instead of blue,” I said squinting at my face. “I think the coloring of the wig would have made them darken up a bit.” As it was, my eyes were still way too Scout-like.
Liam mumbled something under his breath about me being a girl, which I ignored as he went back to his bags. This time he produced a small plastic case. I opened it to discover a pair of turquoise colored contact lenses.
“Where did you get these?” The last thing our extended road trip needed was for me to get some sort of bacteria that would rot my eyeballs out of my head.
“Stole them from a girl at the park. I think she had to take them out because of a nasty eye infection,” he said as if he could read my mind. I offered him the sight of my newly healed middle finger, fully extended. “They’re new, hence the safety seal you just broke.”
They were a little difficult to put in. My eyesight has always been perfect, so there was never any reason for me to stick little discs of plastic in my eyes before. It probably would have gone a lot quicker if I hadn’t automatically squeezed my eyelids shut every time my finger got anywhere near my face.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning away from the mirror once I got everything adjusted.
Liam had stretched himself across one of the beds and turned the TV to The Weather Channel while I was ineffectually jabbing myself in the eye over and over again. His glance lasted less than a second. “You still look like you.”
“What do you mean I look like me?” I leaned back over the sink. Thanks to my bloodshot eyes, I looked more like a strung-out coke head than Scout Donovan, Granddaughter to the Senate Majority Leader. The eye color didn’t look one hundred percent natural, but only if you looked real close. It was much less distracting than my normal shade. The hair was obviously not natural, but it was an expensive wig, not one of those things you buy at the Halloween shop for ten bucks, so it looked like real hair with an extreme dye job. I didn’t see that as a problem since at least half of American women color their hair. I thought I could easily walk into a mall and not be rushed by the FBI.
“I mean…” Liam did some sort of wave thing with his hand that I think was supposed to indicate my general appearance. Or maybe there was a fly. “You look like Scout in a wig. It’s not exactly going to keep someone from recognizing you.”
We were going to have to agree to disagree on this one, except… “I’m not riding in the trunk.”
I think he might have considered it, but finally relented. “It’s probably good enough that as long as you don’t talk to anyone or draw attention to yourself, no one will look close enough to notice.”
Oh yay! An existence of only talking to Liam. Maybe I should revisit that I want to live thing.
Liam went back to his magical bags of treats and tricks and fished out a pair of Jackie O sunglasses. “Here,” he said, tossing them my way. “Wear these at all times.”
“What is the point of the contacts if I’m going to keep half my face covered with sunglasses?”
“The contacts are the backup plan.”
Of course he had multiple plans for keeping my identity concealed. Liam was a man just filled with plans. Plans on how to save me from the Alphas without implicating Charlie. Plans to go out and buy me some snazzy costume supplies while I sat in a motel room thinking he was never coming back. Plans for where we would go next. Problem was, he never saw fit to inform me of any of these plans.
Chapter 5
“Let me see if I’ve got this right.” I rubbed my eyes underneath the sunglasses I was forced to wear. “There are more Stratego than the three we killed?”
The sun was just starting to stream through Liam’s window as we headed south. Today was a backroads day, which made me happy. I liked looking at all the tiny towns, seeing something other than the side of an interstate.
“Nine more, although they’ve probably already promoted some of the Taxiarho so there’s a full twelve again.”
Dots appeared on the horizon. I zeroed in on them without turning my head so I wouldn’t draw Liam’s attention.
“Is there always twelve Stratego?” The dots solidified into animals. “And those are my ten cows.”
Liam looked around until he finally spotted them in the field. His cuss word was said from between clenched teeth.
“That’s forty-seven cows for me, and only three for you.”
“This is the stupidest game I ever-- My cows!”
“Five for you.”
Liam gave his head a good frustrated rub. “Stratego,” he said, getting us back on topic. “Always twelve, same goes for the Taxiahro. Sometimes it will take them a while to decide who will fill the spots, but they never let them stay open long. That’s why they tap so many Potentials.”
“A Potential being someone who may one day join the Alphas as a Taxiarho or Stratego?” Not for the first time, I longed for a handbook.
Liam was just as frustrated by my lack of knowledge. “Do you know anything about Shifter culture?”
“Let me see…” I tapped my bottom lip with my finger. “They treat all girls except for the Alpha Female like crap and like to kill anyone they consider different or annoying.”