Page 51

Laughing at her own joke, Mulan took off.

“Come on,” I said to Rasmus, motioning him to follow me.

We traipsed through a room full of giggling stylists who winked at us as we passed through. I rolled my eyes at their amusement and kept on moving. Mulan was not in the rooms with the hair washing stations.

I stopped, snorted at my gullibility, and glared at the emptiness. “The Wu Shaman and her games are annoying me.”

“Wu what?” he asked.

Mulan backtracked into the main washing room. “You are slowest person I know, witch. We will do this in my private area. Feel lucky I did not give up.”

Swearing under my breath, I followed her down a hallway with a sighing Rasmus following close behind me.

I waited until he was in the chair and she’d started the washing process. It bothered me to watch him close his eyes in pleasure as her fingers moved over his scalp. I knew precisely how good it felt because I’d been in the chair last week. It was a whole different matter to be a voyeur when it happened to something else. Women in hair salons didn’t stare. That was etiquette. But I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

“Can we talk now?” I said, angrier when I had to clear my throat.

“He has many demon compulsions. They must have had him for a while. He must have been good in bed,” Mulan said.

I opened my mouth but only a slow breath escaped me. “Can ya see them?”

“Yes. He has several in his private places—some old, some recent. You only broke one on top of his head. A forty-year-old woman should not fear naked men so much. This one better choice for you than handsome-old-man husband.”

I didn’t bother to correct her. I just shook my head. “I broke one of his compulsions but couldn’t completely remove it. I made the demoness who sealed it break it.”

“Same thing in the end,” she said, shaking her hands free of suds. “Come. You rinse out his conditioner while I go get my shaman tools.”

“How much is yer shaman work going to cost me?”

Mulan glared. “Bridget was so right. You are big cheapskate.”

I crossed my arms. “I am not a cheapskate. I’m frugal.”

“Fancier word changes nothing. Do you want help with demon compulsions or not?”

I dropped my arms and stalked around Rasmus. He opened his eyes as I switched places with Mulan. He watched me closely as I turned on the water and checked the temperature. Mulan disappeared without either of us being aware.

“Don’t turn my hair purple again. That lasted for days.”

A laugh of surprise escaped me. I’d forgotten all about doing that. “No promises,” I said.

His grin wrinkled the corners of his eyes. The expression reminded of the rare times he’d found humor in my company. He looked so appealing in that moment that I put my attention on his hair and kept it there.

Even though I denied myself the pleasure of exploring the rest of him, I took my sweet time rinsing out the conditioner and running my fingers over his scalp. When Rasmus closed his eyes, I knew it was because of me and it weakened my knees.

My fingers slowed as the urge to touch the smile on his lips all but shoved my self-control out of the way.

“Stop wasting all my water, witch. You can make lovesick cow-eyes at your new man later,” Mulan said.

My fingers gripped his hair too tightly as I wrung it out.

“Sit up,” I ordered.

After a low-chuckling Rasmus was upright in the chair, I grabbed the nearest towel and deftly wrapped it around his dripping strands.

I backed away and dried my hands on my pants.

Mulan smirked as she watched me. “I harmed no turtles in the making of my shaman tools. I collect those that die sustainably. Or I buy the shells from wildlife foundations. I buy in bulk.”