Beauty is the Beast: Beasts Among Us - Book 1 Read online

  “You could have handled that a little better.” She squinted at me in annoyance.

  “I could have, but this way makes me feel better,” I said crossing my arms.

  “Go pour your tea. I can hear the pot whistling.” She stood her ground as I glared back. “Now, Gretchen. The day hasn’t even started yet, and I can’t have you phasing today."

  She was right, of course.

  I stomped to the kitchen to remove the noisy kettle from the stove and turn off the burner.

  My big thermos stood at the ready with metal balls of loose lavender-chamomile tea arranged around the opening. I poured the boiling water over them and inhaled the scented steam, leaning my forehead against the cabinets above the counter. Without moving from that position, I pulled open a drawer and selected the bottle of lavender extract that was kept there. Pulling the stopper, I placed my index finger over the top and tipped it, then dabbed the greasy feeling scent on my pulse points and ran my fingers over the loose tendrils of hair hanging around my face, hoping that would be enough.

  We spent a good chunk of time on our cell phones canceling appointments that morning.

  Yvonne Sandus arrived just before our usual lunch break, her hair a disastrous hack job and uneven color worthy of a three-year-old with a Sharpie and a pair of blue Crayola crayon scissors. Lacey took pity on her and helped her out, despite the fact that we were closed.

  Percy and I kept busy answering calls from concerned customers, breaking for a late lunch with the rest of Percy's staff after Lacey evened out poor Yvonne's correction.

  We had just sat down when a loud banging on the front door interrupted us.

  “I’ll go see who it is,” Christina, Percy's right-hand woman, stood from her seat. When did Christina show up?

  We heard a woman’s raised voice, Christina trying to reason with her, and the woman not having it.

  Christina returned with an apologetic look on her face. “She insists on talking to the manager. Apparently, she doesn’t appreciate having her appointment canceled. She said her name is Shenna Seidl."

  Percy was the acting manager, but all three of us went.

  “She’s one of my clients,” Lacey-Marie muttered as we exited the kitchen and wound our way through the house towards the salon.

  As soon as Shenna saw us, she quit pacing and beelined for Lacey, smelling of perfume and anger.

  “I got a call canceling my appointment. I have to have that appointment. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have to close the salon for the next few days,” said Percy placing a gentle hand on her arm.

  “I don’t care! You can’t just cancel appointments on people without giving them time to make other plans.”

  “Oh, gee, the next time one of our girls is murdered, we’ll make sure to schedule it at a more advantageous time for you,” I snarled.

  She looked taken aback, as she should. It’s not like we randomly closed the salon on a regular basis. In fact, we’d never done it. None of us were ever sick, so we didn’t have to worry about that, and I knew where the full moons fell, so made sure to schedule around it.

  “Murdered?” Shenna squeaked out, the stench of her anger fading.

  “It’s not something we were looking to advertise,” said Lacey, adopting my crossed arm posture.

  “Oh, sorry. I, uh, I’ve gotta go.” Shenna backed away from us and headed right out the door. She left tire marks as she burnt rubber, getting away like I was chasing her.

  “I’m not too sorry about that. Her boyfriend is probably going to spend his birthday with his wife.” Lacey squared her shoulders and led the way back to the kitchen.

  "So it's official, we're closing for a few days?" I asked Percy as we regained our seats at the table.

  "It's up for discussion, of course, but I do think it's best."

  "I agree.” I rested my chin on my hands and my elbows on the table.

  "Me too," said Lacey.

  "Good," said Percy. “I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”

  I took a bite of my sandwich while she studied her own food.

  Lacey, who didn't eat lunch, just nursed another cup of coffee.

  "What do you think of bringing on another girl?" Percy asked.

  "Already?" Lacey raised her eyebrows.

  "I don't think we can handle the workload alone. We really need another girl. I'd like to hire a few other positions as well." Percy picked at her bread distractedly.

  "Such as?" I asked, leaning towards her with interest.

  "I think we could use a manicurist, and I'd love to bring a masseuse on staff."

  "I wouldn't complain about either of those," I said, thinking about how nice a weekly back rub might be.

  "Me either," said Lacey. "But I'm not too sure about hiring another stylist right now. I think it’s too soon. Besides, I think we can handle things on our own for a while.”

  "Do we really need to put it to a vote?" Percy asked scrunching her eyebrows together and pressing her fingers to her left temple.

  Lacey scowled and shook her head.

  "Then it's settled. I'll put the word out." Percy dug into her lunch as I polished off mine.

  The rest of the day was used up cleaning and airing out the salon. We should have taken it easy. It was just the beginning.

  Before we opened the day after Penny's funeral, I cleaned out Penny's station.

  I sat in her spot, empty box in hand, staring down at her things. I’d promised her family I would pack it all up and mail it to them as soon as possible, so I took a deep breath and delved in.

  Penny's shears were loose in her drawer, so I fastened a rubber band around the blades to keep them shut. Her razor was a flip handle with a removable guard left over from her school days. The guard slipped as I closed it, and the blade ran across the pad of my thumb. Blood welled up as I stuck the wound into my mouth.

  The blade was fresh, without a single hair clinging to it, and the cut was clean, which usually made it harder to heal with no jagged edges to clot together, but the regenerative nature of my blood healed the cut within five minutes.

  I stuck the razor in the box, piling her other tools on top. I opened all the drawers, making sure there was nothing left behind, then carried it to the back room in search of packing tape.

  The day promised to be a busy one as it was our first open since the murder, our books maxed out with rescheduled appointments on top of the already existing ones.

  It was mid-morning when the bell over the front door tinkled annoyingly and both doors swung open, inundating the salon with cold air. The man who walked in carrying a suitcase filled the room with size and presence enough to raise my hackles as the smell of testosterone and magic washed over me with the breeze.

  “Can I help you?” Lacey-Marie asked, leaning her petite frame over the front desk so that her folded arms pushed up her small breasts.

  “I’m here to visit my wife.” He ran his hand over his thick, dark hair, staring down his nose as if Lacey were less than a gnat.

  Whoever his wife was, she was either the luckiest woman to be married to such a looker, or the most pitiable for being stuck with someone so snobbish.

  “Hello, Persephone,” he said, his voice a gravelly bass.

  I dropped to my chair, followed by my jaw and my dignity.

  “Hades… what are you doing here?” Percy stopped mid-cut to address her husband, the Greek god.

  “Day-amn,” Lacey-Marie muttered loudly enough that pretty much the entire salon heard her.

  What was Hades doing in the mortal world? I couldn't remember a tale of him leaving his kingdom. Not that I knew many myths.

  “I came to see you, wife. I wanted to know what, exactly, it is about this place that makes you leave me year after year. It’s . . . quaint,” he said, setting his suitcases down by the front desk.

  Quaint? The place was a fricking mansion. Jerk.

  “I like it here. It’s distinctly untainted. Ladies, t
his is my husband from Flor-ih-da.” Percy spoke slowly, probably to nail into Hades’ skull where it was he was supposed to be from.

  “Right, the Pluto family of Florida,” said Hades, walking over to his glamoured up wife and giving her a kiss.

  Percy hugged him briefly, then pushed him away, resuming her haircut.

  Not that her client minded. She was just as busy staring as the rest of us. Percy could have given her a mullet, and she would have said she loved it just because Hades was in the room.

  “So, where should I put these?” he asked, pointing to his bags.

  “You can put them up in my room. Gretchen, can you show him since you seem to have a moment?” Percy asked, without looking my way.

  “Uh, yeah, sure. It’s right upstairs to your right,” I said.

  “Show him, Gretch." Percy turned and gave me a look.

  Fine. “Follow me.” I ushered him towards the foot of the stairs, not sure how I felt about having him follow me. It was kind of like having the devil watch your back.

  Percy’s room was on the opposite end of the house from mine. She watched sunrises; I watched sunsets. She also left her door unlocked, so I pushed it open and showed him in.

  “So this is Percy’s room—your room too, I guess.”

  “So I surmised,” said Hades, looking around with a critical eye.

  "Is there anything else you need?” I asked, backing towards the door. It was only a polite question. I hoped he wouldn't respond.

  “Yes. I would like a glass of wine and something to eat. I’m famished. It was rather a long trip.”

  I bet. I’d never been to the fae lands, but they sounded far away. I’m not sure I’d be allowed, being of tainted blood and all. I wondered how Hades felt about people like me. I knew he let dead guys hang out at his place, but what about weres?

  “Follow me,” I said again. “I’ll get you set up. I don't cook, but there’s leftovers, so feel free to help yourself.”

  Does Hades normally help himself, or does he just get served? There were no minions, servants, or slaves here, and I wasn’t about to play the part for him.

  We made our way back through the salon, and I could feel eyes on us the whole way. I told myself to keep going, and we arrived in the kitchen without any fuss from the house.

  “Plates are up there.” I pointed at a cabinet. “Utensils here.” I tapped the drawer. “Red or white?”

  “Red. Merlot, preferably.”

  Ick, nasty, dry stuff. I only drink wine once in a while, but I don’t like dry, dry, wines. I’ve got to admit, I love a good dark beer or rum. I’d had lots of years to develop my taste. I dashed down the basement stairs and picked a merlot from Percy’s collection, brought it up the stairs, and hunted for a corkscrew in the junk drawer. I found it right next to the forks. Imagine that.

  I stabbed the cork and started twisting. The little arms of the easy puller thing rose up like a tiny, slow cheerleader until they stood vertical, then I just had to press down. The cork slid out a half inch. Not so presto. I wriggled it carefully, not wanting to break anything, and it came loose with a hollow pop. I grabbed a wine glass and poured a bit into the bottom of the glass, handed it to Hades, and waited.

  He swirled it around the glass a few times before going to work on his food.

  I left him to it, making my way back to the salon where I was mobbed by every woman in the salon except for Percy, who was standing with her arms crossed and with an unfocused gaze.

  “So, did you know he was coming?” Lacey-Marie asked me in hushed tones.

  “Not a clue. Did she say anything to you indicating that maybe . . .” I trailed off shrugging my shoulders up towards my ears and shaking my head.

  “Nope. I kinda assumed she was getting ready to fly south, for a visit,” said Lacey.

  “Fly south?” a new client asked.

  “They live in Florida. Or rather, he does. They’re originally from up here, but he works down there. She goes down for the winter with all the snow heads, and a vacation or two, now and then.”

  “Gretchen!” Lacey admonished.

  “What? She does.” I stomped over to my seat and flung myself in it. “I don’t like him.”

  “Dude, he’s gorgeous,” said Lacey-Marie, as if that mattered at all.

  “Yeah, he is, but I think he’s an arrogant ass,” I said, spinning myself slowly, not caring that Percy could probably hear every word.

  “So is this the first time you’ve met him?” asked Lacey's client.

  “It is. I’ve heard a lot about him, but this is the first time I’ve ever laid my peepers on him,” I said, stopping my slow spin with one boot-clad foot stomped on the floor.

  “Not even a picture," said Lacey. "It's an interesting marriage those two have going.” She turned and looked over at Percy, who was now busily blow-drying her client, probably ignoring us. “They married young, and I guess they love each other.”

  "I think she’s better for him than he is for her. They’ll never get a divorce or anything,” I said.

  I wondered if fae could get divorced, or if once married they were married for life. I’d never read or heard anything about a fae divorce. Lots of philandering, though. Maybe they just didn’t like to talk about it.

  I mentally shrugged and collected my next client, a color, so someone else would have to wait on his highness.

  I don’t know why I disliked him so intensely since I’d never met him before. I’d only heard the myth, where he kidnaps Persephone and marries her.

  In reality, theirs was a Zeus-ordained arranged marriage. Her mother hadn’t approved, and she’s the one who spread all the rumors.

  Whatever it was, I hoped I could put my finger on it soon. It would eat away at me until it came out, and I just didn’t have the energy to pour into Hades hating.

  The front door opened, and the salon suddenly smelled like animals as five wolves in human form seated themselves in the waiting area. They all turned to look at me at once, their amber gazes intense.

  What were they doing in the salon? There was absolutely no way they'd come in for haircuts. That would be too much of coincidence. There were no packs in Maine. I’d made sure of it when I moved.

  The humans in the room didn’t know what they were, but I could tell they were intimidated, as well they should be. I didn’t think they’d cause trouble with so many witnesses, but from what I remember, wolves in packs are less human and more fae. Definitely not to be trusted on my personal hunting grounds.

  They did not stand or call my attention. They did, however, watch me work.

  It was a little disconcerting. Apparently they planned to stay until I acknowledged them. There was no chance of that happening, at least until all the humans were gone.

  I turned my client in my chair so we were both facing the wolves. I didn’t want them at my back, just in case. Also just in case, I avoided my calming tea. I needed to be on my guard for the safety of everyone in the room.

  Lunch time couldn’t come soon enough.

  They stood from their perches as soon as the room emptied of everyone human.

  Percy and Lacey flanked me as I approached them.

  The wolf that came forward to greet me was unimpressive in looks, but his confidence gave away his pack status: Alpha.

  “Good afternoon, Gretchen. I’d like to have a word with you. Alone.” He didn’t offer a hand in greeting, just assumed that I’d bare my neck to him.

  Hell no, buddy. “Actually, I don’t have time just now.” I crossed my arms under my chest and stood my ground, nostrils flaring as I tried to catch more of their scent, and maybe figure out what they were up to.

  For once, Percy didn’t elbow me. Instead she flung out both arms, magically dropping the blinds over all the windows and yanking the blackout curtains shut. Her figure blurred for a moment as her glamour vanished.

  “This is my house. You will not presume to discuss anything without my permission.” Percy’s presence grew as she spoke. S
he is goddess, hear her roar!

  The alpha stood stock still for a moment, taken aback that two females had defied him in a matter of seconds.

  “Forgive me, I did not realize Gretchen recognized you as her alpha.” The man’s apology was anything but genuine. If anything it was wary, defensive.

  “I don’t.” I separated myself from my friends. “But out of respect for Persephone, let’s take a walk.” I hadn’t really meant to make time for them, but it was unlikely they would leave if I didn’t.

  “Ladies, will you tell my next client that I will be running a little late? I have some… family issues to sort out.” I turned my back on the pack to face my friends. It was a deliberate act of utter disrespect to the wolves.

  “Of course,” Lacey-Marie said quickly, glancing behind me.

  The pack hadn’t moved, and the mood turned icy.

  “Are you sure, Gretchen?” Percy asked, worry apparent in her eyes.

  “I can handle myself.” I attempted to reassure us both.

  “This way.” I ushered the wolves out through the back of the salon and through the kitchen, grabbing a packet of lunch meat on my way past the fridge and marching out the back door. The pack could follow or not.

  The alpha caught up to me at the edge of the kitchen garden. The others hung back a moment, then followed out of hearing distance.

  “I feel we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Kaine, and I’m the alpha of a pack started down in Texas.” He had to say ‘started’ because wolf packs are technically nomadic, though they tended to stay within certain distances of their alpha’s changing place. He still hadn't offered me a hand to shake, but at least I had a name.

  “So, what is a pack from Texas doing in Isenburge, Maine?” I'd remained under the radar, so they weren’t there because I was causing trouble.

  “We want you back.” He spoke like I’d asked a ridiculous question.

  “Wow, that’s a good joke. It’s only been, oh, a hundred-and-fifty years or so since I was never part of your pack.” I didn’t stop walking to laugh at him.

  “Our alpha changer made you. That makes you mine. He told you that when he made you the offer.” Kaine, though not much taller than me, looked down on me in disdain.