J.R. Ward - The Shadows

Marissa spoke up. “My hellren told me, actually. And he heard it through Vishous.”

“That you’re going on a date,” Beth finished. “And we thought you might like some beautification.”

Cormia put her palms out. “Not that you aren’t beautiful enough.”

At that point, there were lots of oh, no’ s, totally beautiful’ s, and only if you wanna’ s—and all Selena could do was put her hands up to her cheeks. “I was just going to put on robing and do my hair as prescribed.”

“Boring,” Xhex said. As all the girls sent her looks, she threw up her hands. “I told you I’m not good at this stuff! God, why did you make me come up here?”

Beth turned back around. “Selena, you always look lovely, but we have some contemporary clothes for you to consider, ones that are maybe a little more—”

“You’ll look like something other than a window drape.” Xhex rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, I’ll shut up from now on. But it’s the truth.”

“I look like a drapery?” Selena said, glancing over to the swaths by the windows that had just un-shuttered themselves. “Is that bad?”

Beth came forward and took her hands, squeezing them. “Do you trust us?”

“Oh, of course, my Queen, it’s just . . . I don’t know—I can’t find a hair-dryer, and—”

Marissa stepped forward with a canvas tote full of . . . every conceivable makeup and hairstyling whatever. “Worry not, I have you covered!”

And that was how Selena ended up sitting on a stool in the middle of Trez’s bathroom with a bunch of females circling her with hair-dryers, hairbrushes, something called mousse, and curling irons.

In the midst of the makeover, her eyes watered.

“Oh, am I too close,” Autumn said over the din of the dryers.

Selena brought a hand up, hoping to hide her tears. The kindness was so unexpected; she literally felt as though the entire house was getting behind her and her male.

Xhex, the hard-ass, was the one who brought over the Kleenex box. And when Selena’s hand was shaking so badly she dropped the tissue she took, Xhex was the one who did the duty, snapping another soft white square free and dabbing under eyes that leaked.

Selena looked up into that gunmetal stare and mouthed, Thank you .

Xhex just nodded and kept discreetly mopping up, her gentle touch at odds with that harsh face and masculine dress—and the gun she wore holstered at her waist in spite of the fact that they were all safe in the compound.

Selena had no thoughts in her head, only emotions too big to hold in her heart.

As the dryers were finally silenced, she knew it was time to pull herself together. All that sound and fury as her hair was blown around had offered a kind of buffering to hide behind, even if they had all seen her cry.

“Your hair is so lovely,” Cormia said as she ran her fingers through the waves. “I think we should leave it down—”

“Thank you all,” Selena blurted. “Thank you for this.”

Beth knelt in front of her. “It’s our pleasure.”

A hand landed on Selena’s shoulder. Another on her forearm. More on her back. And Xhex was right next to her with that Kleenex box.

Looking in the mirror, she saw herself surrounded by the females of the house, and none of them were pitying her—for which she was so very grateful. Instead, they were standing with her, doing what they could to show her that she mattered.

And for some reason, that seemed indescribably important.

Probably because it dawned on her, for the first time, that she would be remembered by these people after she was gone—and to be mourned by good folks was the best legacy anyone could leave behind.

“Down?” she heard herself say. “Really? You think I should wear my hair down?”

“Allow me to introduce my little friend.” With that, Marissa held up a silver wand that was plugged into the wall via a black cord. “And now the warfare shall begin.”

Selena had to laugh. Glancing up at Xhex, she said, “Have you ever—”

“Used one of those?” The female yanked at her short hair. “As if. But I think you should do what they say. You’re looking at the species’ brain trust here when it comes to being hot.”

“Then submit I will.” Selena found herself lightening up at the idea of a transformation. “Do with me what you wish.”

Beth grinned. “You think this is gonna be good? Wait’ll you see the dress.”

* * *

“I’m sorry. I tried.”

As Rehvenge apologized for nothing that was his fault—and nothing that was actually a surprise, Trez shook his head. The pair of them were standing in the grand foyer of the mansion, their feet planted on the mosaic depiction of an apple tree in bloom.

He put his hand on the male’s fur-clad shoulder. “Seriously, Rehv. Thank you for giving it a shot.”

Rehv plugged his red cane into the floor and walked around. “I looked everywhere in our records. Asked people—”

“Rehv, listen, I appreciate your going up to the colony. But honestly, I didn’t expect some magical answer.” Shit knew he was used to bad news at this point. “So don’t beat yourself up about it.”

That floor-length mink flared out behind the huge male as he continued to stride about. Eventually, he stopped dead. “Do you remember the night we met?”

“How could I forget.”

“Always felt like that was supposed to happen.” The male stared down at his ostrich-skin shoes. “I don’t want . . . this for you. Especially considering what else is waiting for you.”

Rehv was one of the few who knew about his being the Anointed One back in the s’Hisbe.

God, Trez thought. That mess at the Territory wasn’t on his radar in the slightest. Selena was the great sanitizer of all his other concerns, not just wiping his slate clean, but scrubbing the shit raw.

“I’m going to see this through with Selena,” he heard himself say. “I’m not going anywhere else while she’s . . . you know.”

“Anything you need, you got it.” Rehv came over. “I just . . .”

It was unsettling to see such a great male, who was known for his brash arrogance, appear so defeated.

Trez had to cut off the commiseration or it was going to take him down. “Look, you don’t have to say anything else. Frankly, I’d rather you didn’t. Not for nothing, I gotta stay focused on where I’m at right now—Selena is going to come down those stairs and I can’t be all up in my head for tonight.”

“Understood. But I’m going to hug ya.”

“Please don’t—oh, no, come on, man—”

As he was enveloped in mink, he stiffened—and felt like an asshole. For fuck’s sake, the guy was just being real, but damn, all Trez wanted to do was run into the billiards room. Maybe hit himself over the head with a cue stick.

Until the damn thing broke.

His head, not the stick.

“Wow, this stuff is soft,” he said, stroking the coat.

Rehv stepped back. “I’m gonna go crash upstairs in the guest room. I’m whipped and Ehlena has been up all day with Luchas. I think we’re going to go sleep for the whole night.”

“Sounds like heaven to me.”

Awkward. Moment.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that.” Trez rubbed his face. “She’s not dead yet.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

Rehv clapped him on the back and then hit the grand staircase, ascending with the help of that cane. And as Trez stayed where he was, he realized why he had not hunted down his brother to talk about things. Usually, he and iAm would have spoken eight times already—and it was only seven o’clock in the evening.

But if Rehv being a good guy got under his skin, Trez really wouldn’t be able to handle that shit with his blooded brother right now. He was barely holding on to himself—one look into iAm’s black stare?