Part 49 (1/2)

I rubbed at my nose again. ”And then... this this? Here I'm thinking you've created your own batch of personal thralls while running around as a hired killer or something, and... you're was.h.i.+ng hair hair?”

It was difficult to keep my voice quiet, but I made the effort. There were too many ears in that little place.

Thomas sighed. ”Well. Yes. Was.h.i.+ng, cutting, styling, dying. I do it all, baby.”

”I'll bet.” Then it hit me. ”That's how you're feeding,” I said. ”I thought that took...”

”s.e.x?” Thomas asked. He shook his head. ”Intimacy. Trust. And believe me, next to s.e.x, was.h.i.+ng and styling a woman's hair is about as intimate as you can get with her.”

”You're still feeding on them,” I said.

”It isn't the same, Harry. It isn't as dangerous-more like... sipping, I suppose, than taking bites. I can't take very much, or very quickly. But I'm here all day and it...” He s.h.i.+vered. ”It adds up.” He opened his eyes and met mine. ”And there's no chance I'm going to lose control of myself. They're safe.” He shrugged a shoulder. ”They just enjoy it.”

I watched the woman who'd been under the hair dryer come out, smile at Thomas, and pick up a cup of coffee on the way out. She looked... well, radiant, really. Confident. She looked like she felt s.e.xy and beautiful, and it was quite pleasant to watch her move while she did.

Thomas watched her go with what I recognized as his look of quiet possession and pride. ”They enjoy it a lot.” He gave me one of his brief, swift grins. ”I imagine there's a lot of husbands and boyfriends enjoying it, too.”

”But they're addicted to it, I'd imagine.”

He shrugged again. ”Some, maybe. I try to spread myself around as much as I can. It isn't a perfect solution-”

”But it's the one you've got,” I said. I frowned. ”What happens when you try to wash somebody's hair and it turns out that they're in love? Protected?”

”True love isn't as common as you'd think,” Thomas said. ”Especially among people rich enough to afford me and superficial enough to think that it is money well spent.”

”But when they do show?” I asked.

”That's why I've got all the hired help, man. I know what I'm doing.”

I shook my head. ”All this time and...” I snorted and sipped at some coffee. It was amazing. Smooth and rich and just sweet enough, and it probably cost more than a whole fast-food meal. ”They all think I'm your lover, don't they.”

”This is a trendy, upper-cla.s.s boutique, Harry. No one expects a man with a place like this to be straight.”

”Uh-huh. And the accent, Toe-moss?”

He smiled. ”No one would pay that much money to an American stylist. Please.” He shrugged. ”It's superficial and silly, but true.” He glanced around, suddenly self-conscious. His voice lowered, and his accent dropped. ”Look. I know it's a lot to ask...”

It was an effort not to laugh at him, but I managed to give him a hard look, sigh, and say, ”Your secret is safe with me.”

He looked relieved. ”Merci.”

”Hey,” I said. ”Can you stop by my place tonight after work? I'm putting something together that might help people if someone else starts something like those White Court bozos just tried. I thought maybe you'd want to be in on it.”

”Um, yeah. Yeah, we can talk about it.”

I sipped more coffee. ”Maybe Justine could help, too. Might be a way to get her out, if you want to do it.”

”Are you kidding?” Thomas asked. ”She's been working for a year to get closer to Lara.”

I blinked up at him. ”h.e.l.l's bells, I thought she was acting weird,” I said. ”She came on all zonked out, like the mindless party girl, but she dropped it a couple of times, where I could see. I just put it down to, well. Weirdness.”

He shook his head. ”She's been getting information to me. Nothing huge, so far.”

”Does Lara know about her?”

Thomas shook his head. ”She hasn't tipped to it yet. Justine is, as far as Lara is concerned, still one more helpless little doe.” He glanced up. ”I talked it over with her. She wants to stay. She's Lara's a.s.sistant, most of the time.”