by Jaye Wells
Okay, now I was starting to get offended. I looked at Sydney, who nodded reluctantly. Geraldine stood to the side, looking uncomfortable.
“But I look great,” I said defensively. “I’ll have you know this skirt is Donna Karen.”
“Honey, that may be Donna Karan, but on you it looks like a reject from Elvira’s closet.”
I gasped, outraged by his continued slander.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m not going to stand here and let you insult me. And you,” I said, turning on Geraldine to vent my frustration. “How dare you stand there and look smug.”
She pointed a finger at her chest. “Me? I’m not smug.”
“Like you all aren’t enjoying this. It’s bad enough I am forced to work in a fucking blood bank and undergo hours of Brethren brainwashing every day. But I draw the line at a makeover. I will not let you people turn me into some kind of Stepford Vampire!”
I wanted to run from the room and go kick something in private, but the pitying looks on their faces stopped me.
“Raven, I know this must be hard for you,” Geraldine said quietly. “But you have to know this is all for your own good.”
“Don’t give me that crap! A week ago you kidnapped Sydney in the hopes I would turn you into someone like me.”
Geraldine flashed an apologetic look at Sydney, who smiled back.
“We’ve forgiven Geraldine for what she did because she has made an honest effort to make up for it. We understand that her actions were misguided and that she never meant to really harm anyone,” Sydney said.
“Can you all please give us a moment?” Geraldine asked.
The other three nodded and quietly left the room. Kira shot me a warning look on her way out.
When we were alone, Geraldine turned and met my gaze straight on.
“I know you’re here under duress,” she said, her expression somber, “but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll take advantage of this opportunity.”
“You’re pathetic,” I said. “Do you know why I approached you about becoming a minion? Because I could smell the desperation on you.”
She closed her eyes as my attack hit home. When she opened them again, I saw a strength I had never noticed before.
“I was foolish. But I actually have you to thank for helping me see the error of my ways.”
“Me?” I scoffed.
“Yes, you. If you hadn’t refused to turn me, I never would have realized how stupid I was. And I wouldn’t have had this second chance at making things right.” She laughed a little and shook her head. “So, thank you for being such a bitch.”
I put my hands on my hips and regarded her. Her words left me feeling uncomfortable and a little itchy. Where did she get off thanking me for anything?
“You’ve been listening to Tony Robbins, haven’t you?” I asked, trying to defuse my discomfort with sarcasm.
She just shook her head at me. “I hope that one day you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving me stunned.
Before I could recover fully, Jorge and Sydney returned.
“So, did you change your mind?” Jorge asked hopefully.
I thought about it for a moment. A makeover sounded like hell on earth.
“You’re not going to shut up until I say yes are you?”
Shaking his head, he smiled.
Sighing, I nodded. “Okay, then.”
It’s not that I had some change of heart or anything, but there was one benefit to letting him change my appearance.
We’d have to leave the house. That meant I’d maybe have a chance to contact the minions in some way. Remembering the letter I’d planned on discarding, my plan fell into place.
“Really?” he squealed. “I have so much work to do! I’ll call and make the spa appointments right now. If we’re lucky they can fit you in this afternoon.”
He spun on his heel and grabbed his cell phone off his waist. Before he made it out of the room, he was already talking to someone. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had the number of a spa on speed dial.
Syd turned to me with raised eyebrows. “What made you change your mind?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I figured it was time to change my approach.”
“Huh,” she said. “I hope you’re ready for this.”
“I’ve never been more ready,” I said, thinking of my plan. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some things I need to get from my room.”
She nodded, looking at me with a speculative gleam in her eyes. Instead of trying to interpret the look, I turned and ran up the stairs.
Reaching my room, I went straight to the bed and grabbed the letter I had placed there earlier. I smoothed it out and stuck it in my pocket.
By the end of the day, I might regret letting Jorge change my look, but at least I might be able to take some action. Contacting the minions wouldn’t get me out of this mess. But I would feel a hell of a lot better with a contingency plan.
I only hoped Jorge had been joking about wearing pink.
Chapter Nine
See, the thing was, even with all my preternatural powers, nothing could have prepared me for the agony that is bikini waxing.
It was all I could do not to punch the chick for smiling as she ripped the cloth from my inner thigh. Of course, I was too busy screaming to hit her.
“Oh come on, sissy. It’s not that bad,” Jorge said from behind the room divider. “You’re lucky it’s not a Brazilian. Those really sting.”
I wasn’t about to ask how he knew so much about waxing of the groin region. Some things a person just didn’t need to know. Besides, Tammy the Destroyer was slathering on a fresh coat of liquid hot magma to my other thigh.
“Yow!”
“It helps if you don’t tense up,” Tammy said helpfully.
“You try to remain relaxed when someone’s pouring hot wax on your undercarriage.”
“I do it myself all the time,” she said with a superior smile.
Like that was something to brag about.
“Anyway, you’re done,” she continued. “Would you like for me to do your mustache too?”
“I do not have a mustache,” I said, my hand flying to my upper lip. Bitch. She said that just to be nasty. She’s lucky I was on a bottle diet now. Otherwise, she’d be dinner.
Tammy left the room, and I carefully maneuvered myself into a sitting position. The idea of putting my clothes back on wasn’t appealing, but with Jorge in the room, I saw no other options.
After slowly pulling my clothes back on, I had to sit down for a minute.
“You okay in there?” Jorge asked.
“I think she ripped my skin off,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“Are you decent?”
“Yeah.”
He came around the folding screen and looked me over.
“Oooh, the eyebrow wax did wonders for you,” he said. “Really opened up your face.”
My eyes narrowed when his gaze went lower.
“Don’t even think about it, buddy,” I warned. “I still don’t see why I had to get a bikini wax anyway.”
“You never know when you’re going to have visitors at the Chapel of Love,” he said with a wink.
“Believe me, no one’s going to be praying at this altar anytime soon,” I said, hoisting myself off the stool with a wince.
My thoughts briefly flicked to an image of a certain annoying man with a major case of cell phone interruptus, but I ruthlessly pushed them aside. If I was going to endure genital torture for any man, it certainly wouldn’t be Callum.
“So what’s next?” I asked. Due to the aforementioned vampy powers, the pain was already subsiding—not completely gone, but somewhat bearable.
“Let’s see,” he said pursing his lips in thought. “You’ve had your facial, your waxing, and your salt scrub. Next we do hair and makeup.”
“Great,” I said.
We walked—actually he walked, and I
limped—to the door.
In addition to my various beauty treatments, we’d already scoured the shopping mall for new clothes, shoes, and accessories. If I’d thought I was a professional shopper, I’d learned I was an amateur compared to Jorge.
He dragged me through stores like a general leading an attack, tossing garments at me until my arms overflowed. A shocking amount of pastel pieces filled the dressing room I entered at Jorge’s command. Ignoring all my protests, he made me model each piece. He then proceeded to critique everything with the eyes of connoisseur.
Though I would never admit this to him, he was right about everything. I had been wearing black for so long I had no idea that soft pink made my cheeks rosy, or that robin’s egg blue complimented my brown eyes. Granted, the colors didn’t jive with my carefully cultivated kick-ass persona, but I didn’t look half-dead anymore.
Even though the day hadn’t been total hell as I’d been expecting—painful waxing notwithstanding—I knew I was about to have a fight on my hands over the hair.
Three hours later, Jorge and Mimi, the colorist, were high-fiving each other. I sat stunned in my chair, staring at the stranger in the mirror. Gone was the seriously badass chick I knew and loved. In her place sat a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked beauty I didn’t recognize.
“Oh. My. God.” Jorge touched the soft waves Mimi had created by adding layers to my hair. “You look gorgeous!”
I smiled weakly, still in shock. Granted, mocha brown wasn’t too drastic a change from black. But the new hair combined with the new makeup was too much. I was wearing pink lip gloss for fuck’s sake.
“Mimi, you’re a genius,” Jorge said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“All she really needed was to tone down the black. It was too severe for her features. The makeup is softer too, which makes her appear more approachable.”
Approachable? Vampires weren’t approachable. At least not this one, I thought. What they really meant was that I looked vulnerable. Weak.
“I hate it,” I said. Their excited chatter died instantly, leaving the room in shocked silence.
“What do you mean? You look amazing,” Mimi said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
I merely shook my head as I felt my eyes begin to sting. What had I let them do to me? I despised weakness. Yet there I sat looking like a sorority girl—bright eyes, shiny hair, glowing skin. It was disgusting.
“Raven, what’s wrong?” Jorge asked, his voice deepening with concern as he laid a hand on my arm.
“Everything’s wrong! Don’t you see? This,” I said, motioning to the mirror, “it’s not me. That’s not me.”
Jorge’s laugh sounded strained, “But it is you. Your hair and makeup don’t make who you are. You’re still you.”
But he was wrong. How could I still be me if I didn’t feel like me anymore?
“I think you need to give it some time. It must be a shock,” Jorge said. “I think if you give it a chance, you’ll like it.”
I shook my head. They’d never understand.
Since the minute I’d arrived in Raleigh, everyone had been trying to change me. I thought I had resisted their attempts pretty well until then.
Looking at myself, I realized how much I relied on my appearance as a shield. It kept everyone at arm’s length, just how I liked it. The hair and clothes I wore before were almost like a costume I wore to play the role of Raven.
But the woman staring back at me—the one with the overbright eyes and the trembling lips—she was Gabby.
“Let’s give her a few moments,” Mimi whispered.
“No,” I said. “I just need some fresh air.”
By “fresh air” I of course meant I needed a smoke. They nodded and quietly watched me leave the room.
The place seemed deserted as I walked down the hall toward the small courtyard where spa guests relaxed between treatments. A glance at my watch explained it. Seven o’clock. Thus far, the makeover from hell totaled about eight hours. We’d literally closed down the place. The whole ordeal had wiped me out emotionally and physically. I needed to be alone for a few minutes.
As I passed the empty treatment rooms, I took a deep breath. The chemical smell of hair dye in the salon had given way to the relaxing scent of candles and the fruity tang of body scrubs. The saccharine sounds of an Enya CD wafted through the hall.
But I knew I’d never fully relax until I had taken control of my life. Having a Plan B would ease my mind. As I passed the spa office, a thought occurred to me. Through the dark doorway, I saw a computer monitor glowing. After looking around quickly to ensure no one saw me, I ducked into the office and closed the door.
After jiggling the mouse to turn off the screensaver, I saw what I was looking for: Internet access. With a few clicks, I was on my Web-based mail system, quickly typing a message to my minions. This was working out perfectly, I thought as adrenaline surged through me. Even though I didn’t know when I could access my account again, I could at least give them Kira’s address and my schedule so they could find me.
I hit the Send button and leaned back in the desk chair, relieved. By morning each of my minions would know where to find me.
I didn’t let myself think about the fact that my father would most likely hunt me down. Instead, I thought about how great it would feel to be back with my people again. People who adored me and didn’t try to change me. People who didn’t judge my every action and find it lacking.
But I couldn’t afford to dally in the office any longer, so I got up and slowly opened the door. After peering down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, I strolled back to the salon. I didn’t need the numbing nicotine or privacy of the courtyard anymore. I had a backup plan.
“C’mon, just go down there.”
“No.”
“Raven, you’re being a big baby,” Jorge said.
“I look like a baby in all this pastel shit!”
“You’re chicken,” he challenged.
Here was the thing. I had hung out with Jorge all day. Despite his insistence that I was a moron in the fashion department, he was pretty cool. But no one called me “chicken.”
“Take that back,” I demanded.
He smiled and crossed his arms. “Bawk bawk!”
I ground my teeth against the attack of pride welling up in my stomach. Nothing he could say would make me go downstairs. I didn’t want to see Callum, and I certainly didn’t want to go out with him. I wanted to ring Jorge’s neck for this asinine plan. Seemed he thought it was a shame for me to waste my “fabulous new look” by sitting around the house tonight. So he convinced Callum to take me out on the town. As if.
“First of all, I am not some pathetic person who needs my fairy gay mother to find dates for me,” I said, ticking off the reasons on my fingers. “Second, Callum Murdoch is the last man I’d choose to hang out with right now. I haven’t seen him since he ki—” I abruptly closed my mouth as I realized what I’d almost said.
“When he what?” Jorge’s eyes narrowed, and I swear his ears perked up.
“Nothing,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Hmm. Kicked you?” he asked, being purposefully obtuse.
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. The day that man kicked me was the day he lost a leg.
He laughed. “So Callum kissed you, huh? Girl, you have to give me details!”
“No, I don’t. Besides, I barely even remember it.”
“Right, that’s why you’re hiding out up here,” he taunted.
“I am not hiding! I merely find him boring,” I said, examining my nails.
Jorge just stared at me. As the silence stretched out, I started to get fidgety. I am not nervous about seeing him, I told myself. Jorge’s eyebrow raised in challenge.
“I hate you,” I said as I marched to the door.
His laughter followed me out the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
As I walked down the stairs, the butterflies began. I nervously patted the pink pea
sant skirt that swirled around my ankles with every step. The silver bangles on my right wrist jangled as I smoothed my hair.
I had to get a grip. What did I care what Callum thought about my new look?
As I reached the ground floor, I heard voices coming from the sitting room to my right. Instantly my ears picked up Callum’s deep voice.
“. . . only doing this because I feel bad about ducking out of the wedding meeting today.”
I stopped in my tracks as my hackles rose. So he was just doing this for Syd, was he? Well, great. I had two choices. I could turn around and go back upstairs, thereby letting him off the hook. Or I could march in there and make this the worst night of his life.
It took me a nanosecond to decide.
“Oh, Raven! Don’t you look lovely!” Kira said when she saw me stride into the room. I didn’t spare her a look as I made a beeline for my date.
Callum turned from the bar. When he saw me bearing down on him, his mouth fell open, and he froze, drink halfway to his lips.
I walked right up to him and grabbed his drink. After downing the burning whisky, I slammed the tumbler down. Callum didn’t move a millimeter.
“What are you staring at?” I demanded.
His mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s a few times.
“Well? Spit it out. I don’t have all night.”
He continued to stare; only this time his eyes scanned my whole body. When his eyes rose again, he swallowed hard.
“I’ll be damned,” he whispered, a slow smile spreading across his face.
I grasped onto my indignation, even though his words made me feel a little flutter of warmth.
We continued to stand there until Kira cleared her throat.
“It’s truly remarkable,” she said, breaking the tension. “Jorge’s a miracle worker.”
I snapped out of my trance and drug my gaze away from his admiring eyes. It was time to clear some things up.
“All right, look. I know it’s new and everything. But do you guys mind? It’s not like I was toothless and warty before.”
“Oh, dear.” Kira brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to insinuate that you were ugly before. But you have to admit your look was a tad . . . rough.”