I never saw where she got the scissors from. There was just the flash of steel glinting in the glass in front of me as Katja pulled the braid with one hand and cut through the hair above the top ribbon.
“Oh, you fucking bitch!” I yelled, feeling the unexpected hot prick of tears behind my eyes. Whirling to my feet, I shoved her, completely ignoring the fact she was holding a very large pair of shears in her hand. A thrust in any one of a half-dozen places would have easily incapacitated me, only she didn’t attack me or even try to defend herself. Instead, she stumbled back, her shoulder striking the corner of the towel rack, making her suck in a breath and wince in pain. Seeing the length of braid still in her hand, I yanked it from her grasp. “What the fuck have you done?” I snarled.
This was my hair, truly my best feature, but one I’m ashamed to say I never really gave much thought to until I knew how much it pleased Gabriel. He would wrap it around his hands during sex or drape it over his arm when I lay next to him. Every time we showered he would wash it, comb conditioner through it, and make sure it was rinsed squeaky clean. And he loved brushing it. I’d never known anyone before who could make the act of separating tangles a truly erotic experience. And now it would be a long time before he ever did it again.
I stared at the thick, chestnut-colored skein in my hands, truly appreciating for the first time the glorious shade of deep brown highlighted with just enough burgundy to add depth and warmth. My God, how could you not want to run your fingers through it? No wonder Gabriel always preferred I wear it down. He was forever twisting a curl around his finger, wanting to bury his face in it—Christ! I wanted to do the same thing, but now . . . now . . .
“It will grow back if you survive,” Katja croaked from her semi-slumped position against the bathroom wall.
Even though what she said was true, it would never be quite the same. I sneered at her own hip-length mane, the braid in my fist twitching as my hand shook with anger. “You ever had this done to you?”
Ignoring my glare, she got wearily to her feet. “When I was thirteen, I was dressed up and taken to a nobleman’s house. I don’t know why, but two princes were visiting. I was given to them to play with. They were not so much younger than me, and the smaller of them wasn’t so bad. Of course he did everything his older brother told him to do. And this one, the firstborn, he already understood he could do whatever he wanted to me and not have to answer for it. They stripped me naked, tied me up, and cut off my hair. It took them a while because the knife they used wasn’t very sharp, which was a good thing for me, and it’s probably more accurate to say they pulled out more of my hair than they actually cut.”
I could see the memory burning brightly behind her eyes. The fear and terror at having been abused, and anger at knowing she’d been unable to prevent it.
“When they were done with my hair,” Katja continued, “the older one forced my mouth open so his brother could piss in it. I suppose I should be grateful his aim was bad. Of course the younger boy already knew he could not do the same for his big brother. Not without losing a finger.” Seeing the look on my face, she smiled. “Don’t worry, Little One. I went back to see them not long after I was made vampire. I made certain they both died slowly and horribly. And that is the only time I can remember having my hair cut,” she added with a frown.
She was seized by another coughing fit—one that was violent enough to make her double over and wrap an arm around her midriff. I put the braid on the counter and grabbed a hand towel from near the sink, giving it to her in exchange for the scissors. Now it was my turn to escort her to the toilet so she could sit down. High spots of color stained her cheeks, and she hawked up something phlegmy and spit it into the towel.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and, startled, took a step back. My hand trembled as I put it on the nape of my neck, feeling the cool blow of air across my skin. My entire head felt strange, lighter.
“You can thank me later,” Katja said, watching me.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I told her. Folding my arms across my chest, I made a decision. “I think you’ve done enough, Katja. Perhaps it would be better if you left.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t put the Chain on by yourself.”
“I’ll find a way.”
She pounded her fist on the counter. “Stop being such a fucking baby—it’s only hair.” She pulled in a deep breath, struggling to maintain control. “You want to go to the Dark Realm and tell a demon you’d rather fuck him than Gabriel, then you’d better look like you mean it. You think he doesn’t know the hold Gabriel has on you? That he won’t be able to smell Gabriel on your skin, taste him in your mouth. You think this demon won’t notice the way your body responds to him and know the difference?”
She got up from the toilet seat and grabbed me by the upper arms. And I knew, if I really needed to, I could shake her off with very little effort.
“If you want him to believe the lie,” Katja continued, “and want any chance of coming back, then you have to look the part. Become something he’s not expecting. If you go to him, looking the way you look for Gabriel, you’re telling this demon that all he’s getting is sloppy seconds. Not quite the message you want to send, I’m thinking. At least let him think you’ve made some effort to put Gabriel behind you.”
Her words made sense, and I understood what she was saying. But I still wished she hadn’t cut off my hair.
“It’s your decision, Little One. Are you going to go through with this . . . or not?” The scissors magically appeared in her hand again.
I shuddered, closed my eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m in.”
“Good. Let us finish this then.”
Katja wasn’t as skilled as Laycee, but then I doubt my best friend would have been able to distance herself and do what was needed. I was going to catch hell from her when she saw my new do.
If she sees it . . .
“Okay . . . shower,” Katja said, putting down the scissors.
This was where I assumed she would leave me, but she simply leaned against the sink.
“You want to wash me too?” I asked.
“I’m going to see you naked soon enough, Little One. Let’s get this over with so there won’t be any surprises.”
“What are you expecting? An extra boob or something?”
“You better hope not. It is my understanding that a Bridal Night Chain is a most precise piece of jewelry. I need to see if there will be any difficulties putting it on.”
I took difficulties to mean any cellulite in my hips and thighs. My resentment simmered as I turned my back and stripped. I reached for the shower door, but her voice told me to turn around. The way I was clenching my jaw, I was in danger of cracking a molar. I could feel her eyes scanning me from head to toe, taking note of every freckle as she did so. And I have a lot of freckles.
“A heart, really?” She smirked, pointing to my groin. I wasn’t about to tell her it had been Gabriel’s idea, or that it had been his hand shaving me. “Razor or cream?”
“What?”
She put a hand on her hip and gave me a withering look. “Get rid of all body hair, and I do mean all of it. Arms, legs, pits, everywhere.”
“What, you don’t want me to turn this into a skull?” I gestured to the heart.
“Not if you expect me to insert a jewel inside you.”
When I emerged from the shower, Katja handed me a shot of bourbon, which I knocked back without any hesitation. “No wonder Aleksei likes you,” she said, giving me what was possibly the first genuine smile I’d ever received from her. “You would have made a good Russian.”
“Maybe I was, in a previous life.”
“Not in the past five hundred years, Little One. I would have known.”
I had no idea what to say to that, so I said nothing. Katja sat me back down on the toilet and busied herself with my makeup. She frowned and pouted as she applied powder and eyeliner, not allowing me to see unti
l she proclaimed herself satisfied. I turned around and my mouth dropped open.
The inside of my eyelids were rimmed with kohl, while a liberal sweep of eyeliner went all the way from each inner corner to the outer edge of my eyebrows. These too had been heavily shaded and arched in a way I would have considered cartoonish, but somehow looked . . . okay. With the amount of eye shadow she’d used, I needed exaggerated brows. Katja had covered my entire lid with the dark-green glittery shadow, using it alongside my nose so it now looked thinner and more patrician. My cheekbones were highlighted, and more clever shading in the hollow and along my jaw made my face look hungry in a completely immoral way. My mouth was now a vermillion pout, thanks to an extended outline and lip gloss that was not mine. Bourbon wasn’t the only thing Katja had brought back with her while I was taking a shower.
“False lashes would have been easier,” she murmured, giving me a critical look.
I don’t know what she was worrying about. With the amount of mascara I was wearing, there was a good probability my own lashes would simply snap off when it came time for me to clean my face. But the crowning glory—with no pun intended—had to be my hair. After another go-round with the scissors, followed by some drying and gelling, the end result rivaled a porcupine on steroids.
“Holy fuck,” I muttered, slightly shell-shocked at my transformation.
“Good fuck or bad fuck?” Katja asked, putting another shot of Jack in my hand.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, tossing down the drink and feeling a fire explode in my chest. “I’ve never . . . I didn’t know I could look . . .”
“Let’s go see what something with a cock and balls thinks.”
She was out the door before I could register my disapproval of her disrespect. Making sure the end of my towel was tucked tightly between my breasts, I followed my stylist into the living room. Ryiel said nothing, but his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. I had no idea if his reaction was good or bad. Katja’s shrug was all he’s-male-so-what-does-he-know and told me nothing. But it really made no difference. Nothing to be done about it now.
“I want you to promise me something, Ryiel,” I said, looking at him. He seemed astounded to hear my voice emerging from such an unfamiliar face.
“What is it?”
“Nu-huh. You have to promise me first that you’ll do it.” I watched as he considered the possible ramifications of making such an agreement with me. I really couldn’t blame him. We wouldn’t be here now if I had been more careful with words and promises. God knows my track record would have made any other vampire refuse me without so much as a second thought. “It doesn’t involve the Dark Realm or babies or your Promise,” I assured him.
“Your Promise?” Katja seemed surprised. “You have summoned Sinisia to you?” The big vampire nodded, and her expression became one of disappointment. I wondered what had happened between them to cause such a reaction.
“It was time, Katja,” he told her in a gentle voice.
“Of course it was. I just . . .” Her voice trailed off as she became lost in her own thoughts.
“Very well, Rowan,” Ryiel said, turning to me. “I give you my word.”
I took a deep breath and hoped both my heart and voice would let me say what was necessary.
“Don’t let Gabriel come after me, no matter what happens. If I do not come back by myself, then it’s because I cannot . . . because whatever is left of me should not come back. Do you understand?” I walked over and placed the skein of hair that Katja had cut off in his hands. “Give this to him . . . and tell him I love him, very much.”
He started to say something, but I turned away. He’d already given me his word. I didn’t need anything else.
The necklace box was on the low coffee table. I picked it up and looked at Katja. “Okay, where are we going to do this?”
“The bedroom? You might feel more comfortable there.”
Suddenly I was glad that Aleksei and Anasztaizia had broken my bed. I might not be able to go through with what I needed to do if I was reminded of Gabriel holding onto the headboard as he thrust into me. Didn’t stop me from hesitating at the door, though. A large hand came from behind me and pushed it open. My hesitation turned to alarm when I realized Ryiel was following me into the room.
“Wasn’t Katja going to do this?” I asked, clutching the towel between my breasts a little tighter.
“She is,” he rumbled, “but Katja doesn’t know how to put it on, so I will instruct her.”
Oh goody. Now I got to have two vampires seeing me in my birthday suit.
Chapter 27
Ryiel told me there was a method to putting on this particular piece of jewelry. I nodded, hearing him but not really hearing. All I could think of was how he seemed to dwarf the room. Sensing my sudden apprehension, he stepped forward and cradled my face in his large hands.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Rowan. When I see you I feel nothing but admiration for your courage.” He tilted my head so I was now looking up at him. His eyes were a starburst of silver and black. “Look deep inside you. This is not the first time you have shown such resolve. Find that memory, Rowan. Use its strength to help you do whatever is necessary.”
I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I couldn’t imagine ever being in a situation that would require the grit and determination I was going to need if I had any hope of pulling this off. Leaning down, Ryiel pressed his lips against my forehead, and his kiss felt like a blessing, a benediction.
“By the way,” he murmured gently, “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
I laughed and dropped the towel. It was no use pretending either vampire was somehow not going to look at me naked. The sooner we all got used to it, the better. Especially for me. “What now?” I asked, trying my best not to sound anxious.
“Hand Katja the necklace,” Ryiel said. “It’s important that it comes from your hands to hers.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure it won’t burn her?” I had assumed she would be able to handle the opals, but no one had actually said she could. It would be pointless if she couldn’t hold the gems.
“It won’t as long as the necklace is passed from your hand to hers. You are giving your permission for her to help you,” Ryiel said.
“And I couldn’t do this with you?”
“Absolutely not.” He looked shocked that I would even consider such a thing. “No intimacy exists between us and even if I had your permission, I am male. It is forbidden.”
Cupping Katja’s outstretched hand I pooled the necklace into her palm, watching as it overspilled her fingers. I sighed with relief as she appeared to suffer no adverse reaction.
“Now, go stand over there,” Ryiel instructed, pointing his finger.
“Why there?”
“It’s the center of the room.”
“Is that important?”
“Well, it means Katja will be able to move around you.”
“You really don’t want me falling over, Little One,” she smirked. “With a length of Chain in my hand I might accidentally choke you.”
I knew it—accidentally my ass!
“Oh, I’m sure Ryiel will keep an eye on you,” I told her.
I went to the spot Ryiel had pointed to and stood, trying to resist the urge to cover my pink and freshly shaved mons with my hands. Trust me, it wasn’t easy. The carpet beneath my feet was a thick pile, and the padding far more generous than what was normally laid, but I could still feel the hard floor beneath the balls of my feet.
“Now,” Ryiel continued, “I’m going to instruct Katja, but it’s better that I do so in her own language. You’re only going to have one chance of getting this right, and I need to make sure there is no misunderstanding.”
He rattled off a long string of words that sounded like he was in desperate need of something to relieve indigestion. Katja nodded, appearing to agree with his preference for Pepto-Bismol over Maalox.
“Try to relax,” Katja murmure
d, “and stop looking so ashamed. Your body is . . . okay. Not great, but okay.”
Well, I’ll be . . . was that an actual compliment?
I wasn’t ashamed per se, but I did feel uncomfortable having two complete strangers see me naked. I think the reason vampires don’t have any insecurities about being naked around us is because they know how perfect their bodies appear to humans. That kind of edge does wonders for the ego. I don’t know what Ryiel felt as he looked at me. Hopefully, it was nothing more than a mild clinical interest. He might gaze at the inking in the small of my back, admiring the dexterity of the tattoo artist who unknowingly marked me with Gabriel’s name. Katja, however, was different. I could feel her eyes scrutinizing and cataloging every flaw and blemish she found.
“You know I still don’t like you, right?” I said, looking her in the eye.
“Of course.” She returned my look with one that was puzzled. “Why? Did you think we would go shopping?”
I snorted. “God, I hope not.”
“Little One, I’ve seen your wardrobe. Trust me, you could only wish I wanted to take you shopping.” Seen my wardrobe? Like hell she had. I’d caught her admiring my La Perla undies in the bathroom. “By the way, it’s a shame Gabriel has to restrain himself with you.”
“Restrain?” I arched a brow.
“All that excess energy has to be released somehow.” She stared at the shattered pieces of the bed frame, piled neatly on the floor.
“That was Aleksei and Anasztaizia.” I leaned forward and put my lips next to her ear. “I let them use my apartment. I’m sure if you sniff the mattress you could still pick up Aleksei’s scent, unless of course your sense of smell has gone.”
“Did you know I was his first,” she said, ignoring my invitation. “Aleksei was quite a memorable lover.”
It seemed to take the wind right out of her sails when I mentioned Aleksei had told me the same thing. Not the memorable lover part, but about Katja being his first.
“Enough,” Ryiel interrupted. “No more talking.” He snapped something at Katja in her own tongue, and she gave him an exaggerated sigh. He was intuitive enough to sense that whatever détente Katja and I had agreed to, it could unravel in a heartbeat with one wrong word. I watched Katja smirk behind his back, so I stuck out my tongue. Childish? You bet, but it made me feel better.
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