by The Awethors
* * *
Danny hesitated outside the imposing brick building, but it wasn’t the fifteen stories in front of him that made him stop to think. He was going in there to find Dorinda—his sister. The concept gave him a headache and made him want to go find some kweesh. How could he not have seen the resemblance?
Granted, they weren’t identical. While Danny and all of his brothers had their father’s black hair and green eyes, Dorinda’s hair was a light brown that looked reddish in the right light. Her eyes were blue and she had freckles on her nose. What was it that Tom had called it? A ‘tweak’ for eye and hair color? That shouldn’t have been enough to completely change her appearance. Some of the difference was likely related to whatever the biotechnicians had done to her to make her female—a smaller frame, less muscle, more curves—but now that he thought about it, she did look a little like Colin—and even more like Danny himself. He shuddered a bit at the memory of what he’d been dreaming about the girl, then pulled himself together and walked through the double glass doors of WMTC headquarters.
There was a desk in the lobby, and behind the desk was a vision of exotic loveliness. Danny stopped and stared. All thoughts of Dorinda left him. This girl was something special, he could tell. She smiled at him. Her eyes were deep chocolate brown, her skin only a shade or two lighter. He wondered whether the hair color was a “tweak” or a dye. No matter; purple was an awesome color for hair to be. He smiled at her. She popped her gum.
“May I help you?” she asked, chewing. Danny blinked a couple of times before it registered that she was talking to him.
“Umm…yeah,” he managed with a self-conscious grimace. “Has a girl come through here?”
The purple-haired angel’s smile vanished. Her chin jerked toward the elevator. “Your girlfriend’s upstairs with the boss man. If you’re lucky, he’ll decide she’s too cute to send to jail.”
“Dorinda’s not my girlfriend,” Danny hastened to point out. “She’s my sister.”
The girl smiled at him again, even more brightly. “Really?”
He nodded and leaned with both forearms on the desk, fascinated by the patterns on the girl’s fingernails. How had she managed that? Then the word “jail” penetrated. He didn’t have time to be worried, though, because the girl was still talking. “She’s got some nerve, your sister does. The security guard told me she outran security and forced her way into the boss’s office. He’s my dad and I wouldn’t even have the balls to do that!” Her admiration sounded genuine.
“So, you think she’s okay, then?” Danny asked.
The girl reached out and patted his forearm reassuringly. The contact gave him goosebumps. “My dad’s cool. Don’t worry about it.” She paused. “I’m Ariel Wainwright.”
“Danny,” he provided. “Danny Mackenzie.”
She extended a hand. He took it and forgot all about Dorinda.
