Free Aphrodite's Flame by Julie Kenner Page B

the display. Simpering little bureaucrat twit.
    Mordi nodded, hoping his disdain didn’t show on his face. “Yes?”
    “The High Elder has asked me to inform you of your newest assignment.”
    Mordi lifted an eyebrow. “Another assignment?”
    Prigg ignored the comment, barreling on with purpose. “You are to assist with re-assimilation assessments. A high-level Outcast has applied, and Zephron believes that you should be involved in the process.”
    “That’s really not my field,” Mordi said, thinking he’d rather shove toothpicks under his fingernails. “Who’s the Outcast?”
    “I’m sorry, Zephron asked that I not reveal that information at this time. He’s currently in a very important meeting, and asks that you wait for him in his office, where he’ll give you the full overview of the assignment.” At the words “very important,” Prigg stood up straighter and lifted his chin, as if the importance of Zephron’s meetings somehow reflected on him.
    “Fine. Whatever.” Mordi didn’t like it, but he could hardly argue. “At least tell me who the counselor is.”
    “Isole Frost,” Prigg said.
    Mordi stared at the three-dimensional image. “Frost?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    Suddenly the assignment didn’t seem that terrible after all. “Thanks. I already know Ms. Frost. I’ll head on over there now and meet up with Zephron later.”
    “I really don’t think that’s—”
    Mordi flipped the case on his holo-pager closed, taking a perverse satisfaction in shutting up the little twerp ... and anticipating the look on Isole Frost’s face when she learned that Mordi was her brand-new assistant.
    After being dissed by the girl, he had to say, the afternoon was looking up.

Chapter Seven

    Mordichai Black.
    Jumping Jupiter, how could she be so unlucky?
    Mordichai’s reputation was well-known among Protectors. The man had an Outcast for a father (albeit one who might be making amends), and now he was busting his tail nailing traitorous Protectors.
    Her own tiny bit of treason flashed orange neon over her head. Every minute she kept silent was an Outcastable offense, and that little fact made her stomach hurt. Oh please oh please oh please ... don’t let him have seen her guilt.
    He couldn’t possibly have, of course. She’d kept her cool, though she probably
had
been a little more standoffish than necessary. Had he noticed
that
? Had he been suspicious?
    Izzy took a deep breath, trying to calm down as the elevator took her even deeper into the bowels of the U.N. basement. Unlike her recent trip to see Bilius, this time she hardly even noticed the elevator. For one, her office was down here, and the elevator ride—though always unpleasant—was somewhat familiar. For another, her mind was too full of Mordichai Black to have any room for her petty phobias, no matter how unpetty they might seem at some other time.
    The doors opened, and she stepped out, striding automatically down the hall toward her office.
Calm down, Izzy. Calm down and think
.
    Right. Good advice. She paused outside her office, took a couple of deep breaths, then pushed inside.
    Everything was as she’d left it. The five case files— including the one on Hieronymous—that had come with her promotion were stacked neatly on her desk. The black leather couch was cleared off, except for two small red throw pillows. An assortment of magazines and newspapers—everything from
People
to
Protector Living
—was fanned out on the coffee table. And her flamingo floor lamp burned in the corner, adding a soft glow and a bit of whimsy to the room.
    The familiarity of the room calmed her, and she tucked her purse into the credenza, then made her way behind her desk. She sat in the chair, leaned back, and contemplated her ceiling.
    She was fine. Mordi wasn’t going to present any problem. She’d picked up on his attraction, true. But she’d been so terrified that he might try and get close—and thus discover her misdeeds—that she’d