BOOK 5 - MUSETTE

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 3

CHAPTER ONE

MUSETTE

Musette drew the eyeshadow brush over her client's eyelid and blended the colors to create her latest pièce de résistance in her studio at the salon-spa. The orange and gold shades complemented each other perfectly, giving Elizabeth a bright smokey-eyed look. Musette's artistic works would never hang in a gallery like her twin's, but they were shown off every time her clients walked out the door.

Turning to the counter full of cosmetics, Musette chose a black liquid eyeliner. "Open your eyes and look up."

Irritation barely masked, Elizabeth opened her eyes. She had argued with Musette's color choices, not believing orange a flattering color for anyone. Sometimes that was true. Orange was a... bold choice.

Musette had been following one of her feelings and insisted on trying the color palette, promising to redo the makeup if Elizabeth didn't like her look when Musette finished. Her feeling had told her this woman wanted something new, something she would never try herself. Musette always knew how her clients wanted to look -- the hard part was getting them to let her wield her makeup applicators like she wanted to.

Biting back a grin, Musette said, "You can roll your eyes if you want to, as long as you end looking up."

Elizabeth's lips twitched in a hint of amusement as she obeyed with one of the best exaggerated eye rolls Musette had ever seen. Drawing the thinnest lines possible, she added a touch of dark to each eye to offset the bright and spun the chair so her client could see her reflection. Yes, this was perfect. A bit of autumn in winter. "What do you think?"

Reaching to touch her cheek, Elizabeth's expression went from a tight 'I'm enduring this to be polite' to one of amazement. "I'll admit, I thought you were crazy."

"I get that a lot." Mostly from her twin, Ember, who poked fun at her feelings at every opportunity, going so far as to call them Musette's Mystical Moments of Madness. "Stand up so you can get the full effect of your new self." Musette whisked the plastic cover from her client like a magician revealing a magic trick and waited expectantly for the verdict.

As Elizabeth stood, the slinky, russet-colored, floor-length gown brought out gold highlights in her updo. Bronze lipstick and orange shades of eye makeup gave her a look reminiscent of a harvest goddess.

Perfect.

Elizabeth smiled and straightened her posture. "Tonight is a onetime event, but I want to buy everything you just used on me. You've got yourself a new client for life. I'd hug you, but I'm afraid I'll smudge something."

With a relieved grin, Musette packaged the products, had Elizabeth sign for them, and handed the bag to her new client. "You can owe me a hug for next time." If only everyone believed all her feelings so easily.

Confidence made Elizabeth even more beautiful and added a sexy sway to her step as she walked out.

Desiree, who worked in the dress shop of the all-inclusive salon-spa, poked her head into the room. She always looked exquisitely coiffed, somehow keeping her blonde highlights in perfect alignment against the darker shade of brown in a sweeping balayage style.

When Musette wanted to be irritating, she called the intricate color arrangement plain bronde, then ran for her life. Desiree usually caught her, though. That woman could run like a cheetah, even in stiletto heels.

Her friend opened the door completely, revealing her chic black dress -- sleeveless, v-necked, with a layered skirt, short in the front, floor length in the back. "Nice job. Elizabeth's so hot I'm surprised the fire alarms aren't going off."

Pressing a hand to her cheek, Musette gave her friend a slitted-eye glare. "They better not! They'll ruin all my work."

"We have one more client for you." Desiree stepped to the side and a tall, ebony-haired woman with striking dark blue eyes entered. "This is Nadya. Her man said he's got special plans for her tonight."

An immediate sense of dread filled Musette, closing around her heart like confused brain freeze. This woman was in danger. And, if things went as they normally did, she would just think Musette was crazy.

Musette blinked and tried to push down the anxiety making it hard to breathe. She held out a hand. "Come. Sit. Let's chat about what kind of look you want for tonight." Maybe she could get Nadya talking and figure out some way to help.

Desiree escorted Nadya to the chair and urged her into the seat. "You're in expert hands. Musette will make you look gorgeous. Come see me before you go so I can get the full effect!" She click-clacked out of the room on her high heels.

Musette picked up a new cape and fastened it around Nadya's neck. The woman hadn't uttered a word. Icy fingers still clutching her heart, Musette tried to focus. She wouldn't find out anything if neither of them spoke. "Are you all right?"

Nadya seemed to snap out of some sort of trance and nodded jerkily. As she tilted her head up, Musette automatically cataloged the tones, angles and shape of Nadya's face. Sapphire eyes, long lashes, smooth, pale skin, high cheekbones, a bit too sharp, like Nadya wasn't eating enough. Straight nose, full lips. But there was no feeling of what Nadya wanted to look like. In fact, the feeling Musette got what that Nadya didn't want any of this. Was someone forcing her to be here? An abusive relationship would explain the feeling of dread.

When Nadya met her eyes, Musette stared. The woman's eyes had changed color -- no, not changed color. They were two colors now, a silver circle shining bright between the black pupil and the dark blue iris. The silver definitely hadn't been there before.

"Nadya?"

The woman's lips curved into a frown and she shook her head, freezing as her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror. Confusion washed over her face, and one hand flew from under the plastic cape to touch her cheek.

"You..." Musette swallowed. "You're not Nadya?"

"Not... Nadya."

"Are you in some sort of danger?" Musette asked. "If you need help --"

The woman broke the staring contest with herself in the mirror and seized Musette's wrist in a bruising grip. "Help..."

Musette nodded. "Yes. You don't have to go with him."

"Have to go..."

The silver faded. Blue-eyed Nadya blinked and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" She flicked her gaze to where she squeezed Musette's arm and released her. "I'm so sorry."

"Um, I was asking if you needed help." Maybe Nadya had Neurotic Nanoseconds.

"Oh. Definitely. I'm hopeless when it comes to makeup."

There was no sign of the previous reluctance or confusion. What had just happened? "I was thinking of a neutral palette for a few highlights. You have a natural beauty we can bring out just a bit more."

Nadya smiled. "Sounds great. Less is more, right? Mordecai will appreciate that. He does so much for me."

Ember would say something clever about Wacky Weirdness of Women. Musette couldn't deny this was strange. Like two women occupied a single body and one needed help. "Tell me about this Mordecai of yours."

Musette slouched in her Solaris Orange Mini Cooper across the street from the fancy restaurant where Nadya sat at a table with a man who radiated menace. Aunt Bridget could see auras. Her nieces didn't share that ability, but Musette didn't need to in order to know this man was bad news. He set off all her feelings.

Dark-haired, and possibly white-eyed -- from this distance his eyes might be light blue -- he didn't do anything overt, but an aura about him kept others away. Diners smiled at Nadya, but averted their eyes when Mordecai caught them looking. Just seeing the man gave Musette shudders. He felt like death.

What could she do? She wasn't a fighter. She couldn't call the police -- what would she say? Yes, Mr. Police Officer, the man who spent nearly a thousand dollars on a dress and the works treatment at the salon-spa, and now having an expensive dinner with this woman, is a danger to her. How do I know? Well, because I had a feeling and followed them here like a stalker.

Ember would laugh her head off.

Today was Roof Over Your Head Day, but Musette didn't want it to be a prison, thank you very much.

Opening the glove compartment, Musette took out a packet of peanut butter cups and munched on the best treat in the world. She'd missed dinner but was pretty sure she could live on peanut butter cups, anyway. Protein, dairy, what were legumes? Fruit or vegetable? Vegetable. Fruit grew above the ground, vegetables in the ground. At least that's what she was going with.

Inside the restaurant, Nadya frowned and pushed back from the table. Musette sat straight in her seat, envisioning herself as a get-away driver, tires squealing while Nadya dove into the car and Musette made their escape.

Mid-bite, Musette froze. A feeling of Ember's panic as she drove a get-away car made Musette gasp and her clench her fingers around the steering wheel. Not a now feeling though, so she could process it later.

Musette refocused on the couple at the table. Mordecai gripped Nadya's chin, turning her face to him. He said something. Nadya offered him a brilliant smile and relaxed into his touch. It wasn't right. Nadya acted like a robot.

After dinner Musette tried to follow the car Nadya and the creepy man had climbed into, but lost them. One minute the car had been in front of her, the next it was gone. She sighed. Tomorrow she'd look up Nadya's contact information and call her to make sure she was okay. Nadya didn't act like she was in fear for her life, despite Musette's feeling. And she was no super spy. That was the best she could do.

At home, Musette parked in the garage next to Ember's boring black Jeep and entered the cottage she shared with her twin and their aunt, whenever she was in the country. Musette relaxed as she felt the bond she shared with her twin. She'd known Ember was fine, but it was a relief to have it confirmed.

"Hey, Goldilocks." Ember leaned against the doorway into the kitchen, a slice of pizza in her hand. "You're home late tonight."

"Hey Gingerbread --" As her twin entered the living room, an overwhelming sense of inevitable horror blurred Musette's vision. Sharp pain radiated from her heart, paralyzing her lungs.

"Musette, are you all right?" Ember's voice echoed in Musette's head.

Musette waved her twin off. "Skipped dinner. Just light-headed." Her stomach roiled, but it wasn't from lack of food. While the horror faded, dread surfaced. Somehow she was going to have to make Ember believe in a Mystical Moment of Madness. One of the worst Musette had ever felt.

CHAPTER TWO

ANGELA

Angela watched Idris from across the tattoo parlor as she crunched a candy cane. It wasn't the largest shop -- only four chairs that could be curtained off like mini hospital rooms, and the closed off area Idris worked out of in the back -- but she liked it. Idris only hired the best, and there was stiff competition to earn, and keep, a place in his establishment.

He was there now, talking with one of his regular clients. His red hair was almost the same dark shade as Angela's, but he towered over her at six-and-a-half-feet tall and his broad shoulders made it seem like he took up all the space between them as he moved silently and with the easy grace of a huge cat.

She'd dreamed about him last night. And not a work type dream, either. As had been happening lately, she imagined life with Idris outside of work. Her dreams had been insane. Not the content, though that was intense, but the crazy connection forged by the first dream a few weeks ago, and reinforced by each subsequent one.

The only problem -- Idris didn't feel the same way. He was always polite and interested in what she had to say when she broached a topic, but that was as far as anything went. He didn't touch her or come to her to talk, and he definitely didn't ask her out, treating her just like he treated everyone else.

Great for equal opportunity employment.

Not so good when he felt like her soul mate. She may as well be a woman who had wandered off the street for a tattoo -- someone who would disappear from his thoughts and life as soon as their friendly but impersonal interaction was over.

Sometimes she thought he watched her, but she never caught him doing it. The door closed and the buzzing of a tattoo gun filled the air. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the sketch she was working on. A stylized tree of life she had been drawing for the client coming in soon.

Two hours later her newly tattooed client was leaving, gushing over her work, and full dark had fallen outside. As Angela cleaned up her equipment, she stole another glance at Idris.

The door to the private room stood open again. He'd also finished a session with his client, coloring and shading part of an incredibly detailed forest-scene sleeve from wrist to shoulder, going across her back to the other already completed sleeve. His skill made his work so vibrant and lifelike, sometimes she envied his talent.

Angela didn't believe in false modesty. Her work was excellent, but sometimes she would swear the tattoos Idris created moved or watched her. That was ridiculous. It had to be a trick of light or her tired eyes. She made her designs intricate, and they required painstaking attention to detail. It was no wonder sometimes she saw things move when they shouldn't.

Soon they'd lock up and go their separate ways until the next time they shared space in the tattoo parlor. With the vivid detail of her dreams, she felt like she knew him so much better and wanted to know more. Maybe she should be brave and take the first step.

CHAPTER THREE

IDRIS

Idris wound plastic wrap around his client's arm and ran through the aftercare instructions. It was a habit and unneeded in this case. This particular client already had one full sleeve, and they were working on the second. She knew the drill, especially since they'd been using magic to create her tattoos.

Vampire hearing told him Angela was still in the shop. When he opened the door to let his client out, Angela was staring off into space. She seemed distracted lately unless she was tattooing someone. Then she entered some sort of zone. Her work remained top notch, so Idris had let her be.

He didn't want to be that boss -- the one who blurred lines and intruded into his employees' lives. He preferred to leave being the boss to Stryx, even though Idris pretty much only listened to him when he felt like it.

As his client left, Angela rose and crossed the shop. Idris slid the tattoo needles he used out of her sight on the small table behind him. No point inviting questions about them. He had a recording he used of a tattoo machine when he worked with the enchanted needles carved from bone and conch shell instead.

She paused in the doorway, fidgeting a bit. Her hands, so steady when she held pen, pencil or needle, couldn't decide what to do. Fingers intertwined and released, drummed on her thighs, pushing into her pockets. The frown that settled on her face was so familiar it made him smile. It was only one of so many things she did unconsciously that took him back in time.

"Idris?" Her hair was a slightly darker shade of red than usual, but it was always red. Her eyes were the right shade of blue-grey, though. Just like his. Those traits remained the same, no matter how many centuries had passed.

"What's up?"

"I was wondering... well, if you have time... can we get coffee?"

Why was she so nervous around him all of the sudden? She wasn't going to quit, was she? He could keep track of her other ways, but enjoyed seeing her here in his space. Watching her tattoo people was another thing that took him back in time and made his heart feel a little lighter. "Sure. Give me a couple minutes to finish up here. I'll be right out."

"Great. Thanks." Angela went back to her station and picked up a pencil.

Idris closed the door to his tiny office that led off the private room and stepped past the desk to open a warded entrance to the tunnels that ran below his shop. He hurried down the dark corridors, having visited them so often he didn't need light to make his way through them to one of the larger caverns. Crossing another ward, he placed the needles into a silk-lined box that he closed in a drawer.

He hurried back to his office and opened the door to rejoin Angela. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and slid her latest drawing into the file cabinet beneath the reception counter the artists working for him shared.

Idris helped her on with her jacket, set the alarm, and locked up. During the walk of fifty feet across snow-covered sidewalks to a nearby cafe, Angela swiveled her head constantly. Shoulders tense, her eyes darted to scan every face around them. Her heartbeat, loud and rapid, pounded in her chest, and she held her breath from when they left his tattoo shop until she let it out in a slow exhale when they entered the cafe. She was scared. Of him?

There was one table open when they walked in. "Why don't you grab that table for us, and I'll get the drinks. Peppermint coffee for you?" She had an obsession with candy canes.

Angela nodded and gave him a nervous smile, then wove between chairs and patrons to the empty seats next to the window overlooking the street.

As he waited in line, her heart settled into a slower rhythm. It was steady all day at the tattoo shop. So what had scared her on the way here? He placed their order, although he wouldn't touch his, and when the drinks were ready, carried the mugs to a table for two. Angela spun her coffee cup in unsteady hands.

He couldn't resist anymore. He was going to be that boss. "Angela, is someone bothering you?"

Her mug froze mid-spin, but the liquid continued its journey around the inside of the cup. "What?"

"I noticed you were nervous outside. Has someone threatened you? Do you feel unsafe?"

"No, er, well, yes. I mean, sort of?" She laughed and shook her head. "No one has threatened me, but I think I've seen a man following me a few times. He's never said anything and maybe it's just coincidence. It's just that when I see him, he's staring at me, and there's something... unnerving about him." She gazed into her mug. "I'm probably imagining things."

"Have you seen him around the shop? Can you describe him?" Karov had installed the security system in the tattoo parlor, so it had all the latest and greatest gizmos. Some cameras faced the street. Maybe they'd caught the guy on one of them.

Angela shook her head. "He's never been outside the shop when I'm at work, as far as I know. He wears a long black jacket and his hood has been up when I've seen him, which, since it's winter and cold, makes sense. It's more like I can feel his presence." She laughed again. "I sound ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous if he's scaring you. Where --" His phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. "Sorry. One moment." He took the call.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANGELA

Angela leapt to her feet as Idris answered his phone. This was not going like she'd hoped. You're supposed to be getting to know him outside of work to see about the soulmate thing, and here you are babbling on about being terrified by a stalker.

"That's probably important. I'll leave you to it." Abandoning her untouched coffee, she dodged the hand Idris reached for her, wove between the tables and pushed out the door. The cold air was a slap that cleared her head.

Stupid.

What had she been thinking? What man would be interested in a woman who blathered on about how she feared a man wearing a jacket in winter? And apparently, she wasn't as discreet as she thought, since he'd noticed her acting like a crazy person.

However idiotic she felt, her head still turned, searching. Her apartment wasn't too far away. A ten-minute walk. Less if she hurried. She walked fast, refusing to give in to the urge to actually flee from the embarrassing situation.