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Alias | DruulEmpire | 13

 

Sydney awoke in the middle of the night, more restless than usual. Feeling peculiar, she went to the full-length mirror of her assigned suite and checked herself out.

"G'damn ... !" she could not help but murmur.

She retained much of her former beauty: the faint sparkle in the eye, the neat straight beauty of her curiously strong face, even much of her old athletic slimness. Yet now there was a distinct sweeping lushness of curves, with her waist cinched, her hips flared, her buttocks for once quite succulent and taut. Yet it was her breasts that surged forward as one mighty cliff off which a man's brute libido would instantly fall for her. The Wellendaud effect upon her was startlingly radical.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was enjoying all hell out of this. Her self-esteem had always felt overshadowed by more abundantly gifted women, and now she was herself a supreme sexpot.

She checked her drawers, and was drawn to lacy black lingerie. When it came to dressing, however, she found herself preferring an odd bright red costume with a bare midriff, equipped with a peculiar three-pronged throwing dagger. She gazed upon her new form and felt the call of destiny.

Enraptured, she went to the French doors and opened them to step out onto a balcony to enjoy the breeze and the moonlight. He felt empowered, she felt like a goddess among women --

-- and she felt a sharp prick at her neck which knocked her cold. Her last memory was of tumbling right off the balcony to the sea below.

When she awoke, she was in a hospital bed and Marcus Dixon looked pleased to see her regain consciousness.

"Sydney? Sydney ... we got worried. I took a chance, that I might be able to retrieve you, and I did."

"Marcus, thank you."

"Yes, we're all thankful -- please excuse me and Sydney now, Marcus."

Sydney frowned as Arvin Sloane sat beside her. "You betrayed me," she whispered.

Sloane made a point of looking hurt. "Sydney, you have to believe me -- "

"I held my end of the bargain. I played out the alias. Petrenko got no indication of anything from me. Whereas he knew plenty about you. You leaked me. You burned me out there."

"And look what I got," Sloane agreed smoothly. "I could never have gotten this on my own. But now ... you are an even more valuable asset than before.

"This is how the business is, Sydney. Rest up. There's a lot I need you to do."

Sydney felt a weird urge to fling a dagger at him, but none was on hand and he left unharmed.

 

What now becomes of the new improved Sydney?

 
 
 

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