“What the—” He stopped, composing himself.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” I roared, just about certain everyone in the building would be able to hear me.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He furrowed his brow, tilting his head a little to the side.
How dare he not grow a red handprint on his cheek! It made that slap so thoroughly unsatisfying.
“You pulled alpha on me.” I struggled to keep my volume down.
“Sorry. I was just trying to keep you from wolfing out,” he said, stepping away from me, his hands held up.
“Well it worked, so thanks.” I know I didn’t sound grateful, but it was as good as he was going to get from me.
I chose to go outside instead of slinking back into the salon like a naughty puppy. I ran out to my kennel and tried the tack room door.
It was unlocked, as was the kennel. How did that happen? I knew I’d locked it behind me when I left, and Percy never went in.
On my way out, I spotted something lying on the ground, shining in the brilliant afternoon sun. I knelt down and picked up the key for the tack room. Had Fern gotten a hold of the key, or was there someone else snooping around?
I locked the door and stuck the key in my bra for temporary safekeeping. I’d have to ask Fern about it later.
As soon as I got a moment, I filled Percy and Lacey-Marie in on my confrontation with Fern.
“So what should we do?” I asked, not liking any of my options.
“We tell her the truth, or as much of it as is relevant to anything she or any of the others might come across on the property. I say we just tell her about ourselves and Hades, since she got an eyeful of him,” Percy purposed. “And nothing about the farm hands. Or the pack. Or the family. Or the rest of the fae.”
“I guess I’ll have to live with that.” I heaved a sigh and leaned against the wall, feeling drained.
“Fine by me,” said Lacey, shrugging her shoulders. She would have preferred not to hide at all. But for the sake of us, she did.
Some days it would’ve been nice to not hide, but most of the time I liked my privacy. If the fae went public, I’d be put on display, possibly muzzled. I liked being left alone, not a known oddity. Being of mixed background in Maine was enough. Let’s not add to the list of things that make Gretchen stick out like a sore thumb.
“All right then, as soon as the others get out of here, we’ll meet in the library. Gretchen?” Percy turned to me expectantly.
“No. There’s absolutely no way I’m wolfing out in front of everyone. You can forget it.” I knew exactly what she was up to. I hadn’t wolfed out for Mem or Doug, and I wasn’t going to do it for anyone else.
Speaking of Doug, I hadn’t heard from him since he left after meeting with the changer. He’d sounded solid on his decision to become a werewolf, but maybe it was just a front, and he was changing his mind. Maybe he’d just leave with the circus and forget about me and being anything other than human.
Yeah. Right.
“All right, fine. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. I just think it would be easier to accept if there was something to show her,” said Percy, throwing her hands up.
“So show her you! You’re more spectacular than my wolf, and you don’t scream in agony when you shed your glamour. I’ll see you after work. I have a color to do.” Thank goodness.
I threw myself into my work. I may even have been too friendly, if that’s possible for me. Of course, I was acting. Hopefully my client didn’t realize that. As long as I was doing something that distracted me, I was hoping I wouldn’t stress and wolf out. Whatever impression I made, my client left a sizable tip, which went right in my bra with the key I’d forgotten to mention to Percy. Oh, well, it could wait until after we pounced on poor Fern.
I really hoped she was holding up her end of the bargain and not telling anyone, though I didn’t know how good of a job we were doing at hiding. There were so many times that I’d freaked out right there in the salon, occasionally accompanied by the snapping of bones as they reshaped themselves into unhinged wolf form. I had yet to fully transform in the salon, but there had definitely been some close calls recently.
I was counting down the days to the new moon when I would be human and could stop worrying, if only for three days. Of course, I would then be more vulnerable to whatever was killing cosmetologists, but I was hoping that would all be over by that point.
I didn’t want to get involved, but I still had that nagging feeling that the deaths were supernatural, fueled by how little the police were revealing to the press. Not to mention, the killer had yet to make a mistake, which meant the killer was either brilliant or didn’t leave a trail the police had any capability of following. I suspected it was the latter. The circus freaks were officially off my personal suspect list, leaving me with no leads.
When we met in the library that night, I was a bundle of nerves. I’d already partly revealed myself, but I was still selfish enough to wish that Fern wouldn’t be afraid of me.
Everyone was sitting down, trying to look small and safe. Fern was sitting, eyes wide, back straight, and with slightly more fear in her scent then she’d left with earlier.
I took a seat towards the back of the library, allowing Fern a clear escape route to the door if she needed. The only person not present was Mem since we hadn’t told her about the meeting, and she wasn’t an official member of the household. Come to think of it, neither was Hades, but he’d gone into full creeper mode in front of Fern, so we made him come.
“So, I guess you found us out. Congratulations, we thought we were hiding well,” Percy started us off.
“What, exactly, is the true story?” asked Fern, her arms crossed across her chest.
“How religious are you?” Percy asked.
Where was she going with that one? This was a facts of life speech, not a conversion.
“Not at all,” Fern said, her shoulders drooping slightly.
“Well, I’ll skip all that and go to the bit that goes: When God created Earth and all its creatures, he also created the fae and all that goes bump in the night. You might call it a different plane, an alternate universe, we can easily travel back and forth between. We, the fae, have been coming to your earth for eons. Every once in a while, a human gets into Underhill, but I wouldn’t advise looking for it, let’s just leave it at: there are ways in and out.”
“All right, so you’re all fairies?” Fern asked.
“We’re fae, but only Hades and I are pure blood,” Percy clarified.
“Hades. Hades as in the god of the dead.” Fern snapped her fingers as she made the connection. Her eyes widened and flashed in his direction. “Oh, my god.”
“What can I do for you, madam?” Hades asked. The smile that came with his words was less than comforting.
“Not the time, dear.” Percy shook her finger at her husband.
“Of course, my love.” He turned his smile to her and softened.
“So that makes you...” Fern dropped off, leaning away from her new boss.
“I’m Persephone, queen of the dead three months out of the year. It’s nice meeting you, dear.” Percy took Fern’s fingers and squeezed them gently.
As she did so, she shed her glamour, revealing the goddess underneath.
“Oh, my! Am I missing something? Who is this divine young lady?” Mem walked in unsuspecting of what the current topic of conversation might be.
“It’s just me, dear,” said Percy as she let go of Fern’s fingers and waved Mem in.
“So this is what you really look like? This magic stuff is quite something, isn’t it?” Mem said, taking a seat next to Fern.
Fern stared at Mem like she was the freak, instead of the rest of us.
“So, how did you find out?” Mem asked.
“Uh, blood bag behind the milk. They haven’t explained that yet, though.” Fern fidgeted in her chair, and I could smell her sweat with n
erves.
“I’m a vampire,” supplied Lacey.
“I figured someone was. Does that make you a dog, Gretchen?” Fern finally turned to face me.
“I’m the bitch,” I acknowledged. “Although I’m a werewolf, not a shapeshifter, hence the accidental outbursts. Sorry about earlier.” I figured my apology was better late than never.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
She didn’t have to agree with me. Twerp.
“And what are you?” she turned back to Mem.
“A widow,” she said, crawling back into reserved mode.
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” Fern apologized, finally losing her terrified look in exchange for one of empathy.
“You didn’t know. It isn’t your fault,” said Mem. “Gretchen invited me to stay with her until I figure out what to do next. She’s been a godsend, excuse my pun.” The smile she directed at Percy didn’t reach her eyes.
Percy patted her hand, then turned back to our newest employee, drawing up her glamour once more. “Do you have any questions for us, Fern?”
“Uh.”
We all waited. I bet there were a billion questions floating around in that brain of hers. None of them were popping through her lips.
“Well, if you come up with any, feel free to ask us. Any of us. Just please don’t say anything to the other girls. There’s no need for anyone else to know,” Percy said, standing and towering over us all.
“Are we really safe? Us humans, I mean?” asked Fern, raising from her chair.
“Yes,” I promised. I hadn’t eaten anyone in years, though she didn’t need to know that last bit, or that I’d eaten anyone, period.
“All right.” Fern nodded. “Goodnight, then.”
Before she could make it out the front door, Amanda burst through it.
“There’s been another murder!” she said without any sort of preamble. “Her name was Jennifer Tardiff, and she was from Cape Elizabeth.”
“What are the details?” I asked, pulling her in by the arm.
“She was at her boyfriend’s house last night, cooking supper. He was watching TV in the living room. He came in to ask a question, and she was propped up on the counter.”
“That’s sick and twisted,” I commented.
“This whole thing is sick and twisted,” Amanda corrected me, collapsing on the couch beside Hades.
I nodded mutely.
“I just thought you’d like to know. I’ve gotta get going.” She stood up again.
“Amanda, be careful. In fact, I’d feel a whole lot better if there was someone to keep constant watch over you.” I didn’t betray how worried I was because, if I could, I would have kept her in my suite with Mem.
She shrugged off my words. “G’night.” She left, leaving the door open for Fern.
“Whoa,” said Fern.
“That about sums it up. Be safe.” I watched as Fern made her way to her car.
I hated hair shows. They’re loud, full of strange smells, and brightly lit, not to mention gaudy. We’d bought our tickets months ago for the Paul Mitchell show in Portland, and I’d completely forgotten about them until Percy banged on my door at six in the morning.
“Time to get up, dear. We’re already running late.” Her footsteps descended the hall before I could utter a word
Mem’s eyes peeped at me, and I waved at her, clambering to my feet.
I headed to the kitchen to scarf down breakfast dressed in black skinny jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. My hair was tamed into a semblance of an updo, held together with bobby pins and a generous helping of hairspray. My makeup I kept minimal, just eyeliner and mascara. I wasn’t in the mood.
Meredith, Percy, Lacey-Marie, and I packed ourselves into Percy’s BMW and started the two-hour trek south.
I snuggled down in my hoodie, fully prepared to sleep my way through the trip. Percy threw a crumpled up Burger King cup at me, and Lacey cranked the music, making me wish I’d brought my headphones. Lacey usually listened to seventies classic rock, but every once in a while, to appear the age she portrayed instead of the age she actually was, she’d listen to pop and hip hop. It was one of those days.
I muttered death threats at them both under my breath, while leaning forward and sticking my forehead to the back of the driver’s seat. Meredith, who was stuck in the back with me, scowled in my direction.
Hey, it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t feeling the morning. I’d be glad when the whole month was over and we could start over fresh.
Just sip your tea, and everything will be fine, I thought to myself. I lifted my travel mug to my lips and savored the extra bit of lemon and honey I’d added.
Lacey turned the music down, and I could hear her singing softly to herself. We didn’t have much to discuss that we could all talk about, so we sat in silence, watching the world go by. I felt I deserved a gold star for not barking at the tollbooth attendant or sticking my head out the window.
As soon as Percy pulled into the parking spot, I rolled out of the car, stretched my arms up over my head, and arched backward to crack my back. When I felt like maybe my limbs might function, I stumbled after the rest of my little group.
Inside, we showed our printed out tickets to the attendant and entered the auditorium. The pounding music assaulted my ears, causing me to wince until I pulled a pair of the earplugs I used for performances out of my bag and shoved them in my ears. It wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely an improvement. The flashing lights were just as harsh on my eyes as the music was on my ears. I couldn’t recall the Paul Mitchell team ever coming to Maine before, but I was betting they were putting the show into hair show.
We scooted down a row near the middle and took our seats. My fingers pulled themselves into fists as feelings of claustrophobia clawed at my skin.
Lacey-Marie was twisting this way and that, looking for people she knew. Percy was absently filing her nails, and Meredith seemed to be trying to look as unassuming as possible.
A whoosh of air hit me as someone plopped themselves down in the chair behind me.
“Oh, good, you made it,” said Amanda, her voice close to my ear.
I turned, and she leaned forward, propping herself on the back of my seat. The rest of Babe’s Place’s small staff took seats around her.
“I did. How’s it going?” I asked, trying to sit cross-legged facing her. I wasn’t fitting, so I settled for sitting sideways instead.
“Eh, all right.” She rocked her flattened hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “Business has been kinda slow. I don’t know how you guys are doing it.”
“Reputation, darling, a stunning reputation. Maybe you should have applied when we were hiring.” I stuck my nose up in mock snobbery.
“Ha! I’d rather sail under the radar, thanks.” She leaned back and laughed.
It was a good thing I was capable of making good-natured friends to balance out the ones I couldn’t maul.
“How’s the morale?” I asked, tugging the conversation back to our mutual work.
“Kinda low. Gotta admit, we’re shaking in our stilettos.”
“You don’t wear stilettos,” I remarked, glancing down at her sneaker-clad feet.
“True, I wear running shoes,” she retorted.
I didn’t want to tell her that she probably wouldn’t get a chance to run away if she were targeted.
“When’s this thing supposed to start?” I glanced down at my naked wrist. “I’ve got us at half past a freckle.”
“And you don’t have freckles. Nine, I think.”
“That’s because it’s half past it. It faded away,” I insisted.
“Turn around, and behave yourself. I think something’s going on.” Amanda shoved my shoulder.
I turned as the lights dimmed and the music rose in a crescendo. The house lights dimmed, and the stage lights blared to life, revealing a line of Steampunk-costumed men and women. As they pranced around the stage, holding products and dancing, I wondered if they were supposed to be models
or stylists. Some of them opened the bottles and proceeded to pick one of the others to goop up and twist and turn into elaborate styles.
It’s actually kind of cool, I found myself thinking. Was I enjoying myself? Who’d have thunk it?
Near the end of the day, the stage quieted, and a gaggle of young-looking police officers filed in to mill around the front of the room.
“Oh, he’s kind of hot,” Lacey-Marie whispered to me, using a low finger to point out the object of her desire.
I poked her hard in the ribs and whispered, “You’re obscene.”
“What?” The smile on her face told me she knew exactly what.
I rolled my eyes and ignored her. Leave it Lacey to notice fatal attraction during a public service announcement.
“What?” she asked again, goading me.
“Never mind, Lacey, it’s just inappropriate timing.” I gave her an answer, knowing she’d pester me until I gave one.
She hissed out a puff of air. “Whatever.”
I could live with whatever.
A whistle and a shout called our attention to the stage. Trying to quiet a room of hairdressers is like trying to quiet a room of sugar-amped five-year-olds. Not worth the effort. It took perhaps 10 minutes for it to dawn on the room full of the overprocessed that maybe they should listen up.
The announcement itself was pretty short, detailing most of the things that we had gone over ourselves, such as telling us not to talk to strangers. Of course, it was our job to talk to strangers, to be their friends, to make them feel special. It made the crazy come out in us and encouraged the crazy in strangers.
Don’t be alone. Don’t give out personal details. They revealed as little about the actual murders as possible. Don’t tell the nice hairdressers that the police know next to nothing.
“We strongly suggest checking in with your coworkers every night. Take on a roommate if possible. I know this is tough on you, but you’ve really got to start being more careful.” The police spokesman talked as if he actually knew what was really going on.
I knew he was full of it. I also knew that having someone with them at all times didn’t mean that they’d be safe. There were no guarantees with this psycho.
Beauty is the Beast: Beasts Among Us - Book 1 Page 23
