In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

home office unit.
    And fled.
    She wasn’t late, she told herself as she slammed the brakes in front of the house. She had plenty of time since she didn’t take hours to primp in front of a damn mirror. Besides, nobody got to one of these deals on time.
    Which made no sense to her. Why have a time, then ignore it?
    Social functions were unwieldy and strange, and had their own set of rules that were even more unwieldy and strange.
    She burst into the house, started to curl her lip at Summerset, then stopped and stared. He wore black—big surprise—but not his usual gear. He wore formal black, tuxedo black with a white shirt that looked as stiff as his neck.
    “You might save the excuses for another time,” he began. “You’ll need all you have left to transform yourself.”
    “Why are you wearing that monkey suit?”
    “It’s a formal affair.”
    “You’re going?”
    He inclined his head. “Yes, and as I’ll be on time, I’ll explain to your friend why you are, as usual, late. They’re waiting for you.”
    “I’m going. I’m going.” She dashed to the steps. “They?” she repeated, but Summerset had dematerialized.
    “He can’t be human,” she muttered, and hurried up to the bedroom.
    “I’m not late because everybody goes late, which is only another reason why—” She broke off in sheer horror. “What’s she doing here?”
    Trina, all slitty eyes and exploding red hair, lifted what sure as hell looked like a glass of champagne. She sipped, long and slow.
    “If you think you’re going to this shindig wearing that hair, somebody must’ve stunned you with your own weapon. We’re set up in that palace you guys call a bathroom.”
    “I don’t have time. We’re going to be late.”
    Trina’s smile sent a fast chill down Eve’s spine. “Everybody goes late,” she said, echoing Eve’s initial excuse. “It’ll take me about twenty minutes, because I’m a frigging genius.” She pointed a silver-tipped finger before Eve could speak. “I’ve got a rep. I’ve got a salon. I do Nadine’s hair for Now —and I finished her about an hour ago. Most who know anything know I have your hair.”
    “I have my hair.” Eve tugged it. “It’s attached to my head.”
    “You skated out before I could take care of it at Louise’s deal—murder and all that,” she added. “And it looks like somebody hacked it with an ice pick. Are you going to this mag deal with that hunk of superior man-flesh looking like you’ve been in a fight with a farm animal?”
    “I thought it was an ice pick.”
    “A farm animal with an ice pick. Do you look better when I’ve worked you or not?”
    Eve opened her mouth, tracked her gaze over to Roarke. Let it burn there.
    “I have nothing to say, whatsoever.”
    “Superior man-flesh with a brain,” Trina said approvingly. “You hit the jackpot squared, Dallas. Now get your skinny ass in that bathroom.”
    Trina flounced, on five-inch heels shaped like the heart Eve wasn’t certain she had, into the bathroom.
    “Traitor.” The word was low, vibrating with dark.
    “Completely out of my hands. You can turn your knife in Summerset, as you’re wont to do in any case. He let her in.”
    “Dallas! You don’t want me to come out there.”
    Eve’s shoulders hunched. “I’ll deal with you later,” she promised and marched in to face the music. “Just make it fast,” she told Trina. “And don’t—”
    “Do I tell you how to track down killers?”
    “Crap.” Eve dropped into the portable salon chair Trina could-n’t have gotten up there by herself. One of them had helped her, Eve thought. And they would pay.
    “It’s a big night,” Trina began as she swirled a protective cape over Eve. “Nadine looks abso fab, thanks to me. And so will you.” She pulled a lock of Eve’s hair between her fingers. “Nice and clean. Good.”
    She pulled it back, secured it, then lowered the chair to half recline.
    “Wait a minute,” Eve said as Trina pumped some foam from bottle to palm. “You said hair.”
    “Your hair’s attached to your head, remember? Your face is part of your head. You’re getting a lightning facial. That’s all we have time for.”
    “What’s wrong with my face?”
    “You’ve got a good one, and we’re going to keep it that way. Give it up, close your eyes and it’ll go faster.”
    Stuck, Eve closed her eyes. She’d never be able to explain, she supposed, how weird and creepy it was to have somebody rubbing and stroking