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He forced his face to relax until it wasn’t all scrunched up with worry. “Come on, show me your protection spell and the sleeping potion. I want to see some magic.”

Harper’s face lit up. “Yeah, okay. But I should warn you, potions are pretty awesome. Are you sure you’re ready for me to blow your mind?”

Ollie returned his smile. “Couldn’t be more ready. Go on, amaze me.”

Harper looked like Ollie had made his day. At least magic wasn’t all bad.

Harper said he had the day off on Monday and stayed home with Ollie. It was a little suspect since Harper had work every other Monday—maybe he was pulling a sickie—but Ollie didn’t pry. He was grateful for the company.

By Monday night, Ollie felt more like his old self. Everything wasn’t terrible. Magic with Harper was fascinating, and Dante didn’t even message Ollie until the evening when they were due to meet online. It was like the week before in so many ways.

As they played World’s End, Dante didn’t ask prying questions or say anything about the beach. He didn’t mention meeting up in person. By all appearances, Dante wasn’t letting what happened change their friendship.

It took Ollie most of the day to realize it, but he couldn’t feel any of Dante’s emotions through the bond.

He asked Harper if physical distance affected the emotional connection, but Harper said it didn’t.

He and Ash often communicated through their shared emotions and detected shifts in each other no matter how close or far apart they were.

Ollie hadn’t attempted closing his mind, so not feeling anything had to be Dante blocking the connection. If he was respecting Ollie’s privacy, maybe Ollie didn’t have to worry so much about the invasive nature of the bond or Dante stalking him and taking over his life.

On Tuesday, Ollie had a late start at work. It was his day to see clients in the afternoon and evenings, and he always liked arriving at the salon when it was in full swing.

“Hey, Ellie,” he called as he passed the front counter where she was ringing someone up.

“Hey. You’ve had a few last-minute bookings today.”

He turned around and joined her behind the counter, peering at the schedule over her shoulder. It was going to be a busy day. Thank goodness. Having too many gaps between clients was annoying, and full days meant more tips.

Ollie left Ellie to rebook her client in peace and slipped into the back room, saying hi to everyone as he went. He put his lunch away and noticed the dryer was done, so he unloaded it and rolled towels until he had a nice, neat pile.

On his way back out, Ollie dropped the towels off by the sinks.

“Thanks.” Marie, the salon assistant, smiled appreciatively as she swapped out some of the empty shampoo bottles. “I was going to get to those in a minute.”

“No problem.” Ollie checked his station and glanced toward the front to see if his client was early.

She was, as usual, which suited him fine. He headed over. “Hi, Manuela, come on over with me.” As she stood, he asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

“An herbal tea would really hit the spot.”

Ollie showed her to his chair. “You got it.” He found Marie and let her know, then returned to his station. “Are we after our usual freshen-up today?”

“Always, I’m very predictable.” Manuela smiled.

“Hey, if you’re still feeling it, why mess with a good thing?”

“Exactly.”

Ollie ran his hands through her long hair and examined the ends, confirming exactly how much he’d be taking off before getting Manuela ready and bringing her over to the sinks.

They chatted about her kids’ swimming lessons and other summer activities as Ollie rinsed her hair. He pumped shampoo into his palm. Manuela’s long brown hair swirled in the running water. Ollie tangled his hands in her hair, massaging her scalp as he lathered the shampoo.

Suddenly, the sight of hair wrapped around Ollie’s fingers sent a jolt up his arm. Ollie’s scalp prickled and burned, phantom hands pulling at his hair. The smell of blood and seawater drowned out the floral shampoo and Ollie’s throat clogged.

His chest tightened and his lungs burned. Hands closed around his throat. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, his pulse thundering in his ears. No .

“Ollie?” A soft hand rested on his shoulder.

He jolted, Ellie’s concerned face filling his vision. Shit. He let go of Manuela’s hair, not knowing how long he’d stood there frozen. “S-sorry,” he muttered.

“I’ll finish up here if you don’t mind getting the extra conditioner out back? I can never reach that shelf.” Ellie nudged him out of the way and seamlessly took up washing and rinsing his client’s hair.

Ollie hurried out of the way. What the fuck was that?

He’d been feeling great all morning. No one had even touched him, and he’d completely lost it.

In the back room, he filled a cup with water from the cooler and took a long sip, absently rubbing his neck. His nerves tingled as he remembered the pain. The blood. He shut his eyes. He couldn’t think about this now.

“You okay?” Ellie asked from behind him.

Ollie spun around. Was that the fastest hair wash, or had he been here that long? “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He gave her a weak smile.

“Manuela’s good to go, sipping her tea waiting for you.” Ellie paused. “Do you need someone to take over?”

“No, it’s fine. I…I wasn’t standing there that long, was I?”

“Not at all. I bet your client didn’t even notice.” Ellie’s soft features shifted in concern. “It was more the look on your face.”

Fuck. “I spaced out for a second. I’m fine. Uh, had a bad weekend, but really it’s nothing. Thanks for giving me a minute to get my shit together.”

“Anytime.” Her perfectly manicured brows pinched together.

“I’m fine, really,” Ollie said before she could pry. “I need to get back out there. We’ll catch up later.”

“Okay.” Ellie followed him out to the salon floor. “Take care of yourself, Ollie.”

The rest of the day went by without incident. Ollie washed the rest of his clients’ hair without flashing back to tight, evil hands on his neck.

Ellie seemed satisfied he was okay and didn’t press for more details about his weekend.

Ollie smiled and chatted and was almost certain no one else noticed anything wrong.

But he no longer felt good. He wasn’t his old self, and Lucifer’s claws slicing his neck were never far from his mind. He wasn’t okay.

By the time his last client of the evening was due to arrive, only two other stylists were still working. Ollie leaned against the front counter, looking through his schedule for tomorrow as he waited for his new client. Hopefully, they weren’t going to be much later. He was ready to be done.

The front door opened and Ollie looked up from the computer. “Oh, hi.”

Onyx grinned, blue eyes shining. “Hello to you.” He sauntered up to the counter. “I have an appointment.”

The booking in Ollie’s schedule said Mr. Black. “Your name is Onyx Black?”

“No.” Onyx shrugged. His voice dropped to a whisper as he gave Ollie a significant look. “ We don’t have last names.”

Right. Another demon thing. Good to know. “Um, I’ve got you in for a trim, is that right?”

Onyx nodded. His blue hair was impeccable, appearing effortlessly messy in a way that was clearly styled.

“Right this way.” Ollie gestured toward the stations.

Why was Onyx here? His hair didn’t look in particular need of attention, and he must have a salon he went to regularly. Did Dante know Onyx was here? Had Dante sent Onyx to check up on him? How possessive and sneaky.

Ollie’s chest pinched.

He eyed Onyx as he pulled out the chair for him. The demon was about his height and looked like any other well-dressed human. He might not have guessed Onyx’s true nature if Dante hadn’t said he was a demon.

Onyx sat in the chair and inspected himself in the mirror, scowling at his perfect reflection.

“Your dye job is amazing.” Ollie draped a towel over Onyx’s shoulders before covering him with a cape and snapping it closed behind his neck. “I love the blue, and the hints of lavender are gorgeous. ”

“I did it myself.” Onyx smirked at Ollie in the mirror. “I have a magic touch.”

Ollie almost laughed. “I bet you do. So then, what are you doing here?”

“Didn’t I say I needed a trim? My bangs are getting in my eyes.”

Ollie ran his hands through Onyx’s fine hair, pushing his bangs in his face. “I see. Shall we take, say, this much off the top?” He captured Onyx’s hair between his fingers to demonstrate.

“Not that much. A small trim. Maybe half that.” It didn’t sound like Onyx wanted his hair cut, but if he was going to insist, Ollie wouldn’t argue.

“Okay. We can do that. Would you like anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water?”

Onyx wrinkled his nose. “No, I’m good.”

Did Onyx not enjoy eating like Dante? Maybe he only drank blood.

Ollie led Onyx to the sinks. “How’d you know where I worked?” Ollie hadn’t told Dante the name of his salon. Had Dante tracked him down? Stalked him online? Through the bond?

“I asked Harper,” Onyx grumbled like he’d wished he hadn’t had to go through the trouble. He sat at the sink and laid back.

“Right.” Ollie didn’t bother asking why Onyx sounded put out. He’d been totally wrong. Dante hadn’t sent Onyx. He wasn’t even involved. Maybe Onyx was curious about what happened at the beach.

Since Ollie didn’t want to talk about that, he took over the questioning before Onyx had the chance. He glanced toward his colleagues and their clients on the other side of the salon before whispering, “Do you have a mate? ”

Onyx sat up from the sink and twisted around, looking at Ollie like he’d asked the world’s dumbest question. “No. Only Dante and Ash have mates.”

“You never wanted one?” Ollie couldn’t keep the defensive note from his tone. How was he supposed to know Onyx didn’t have a mate?

Onyx narrowed his eyes like he was reassessing Ollie. “You don’t really know what mates are, do you?”