Bones came closer to the house. The strong smell of chemicals wafted to him from a store to his right. Salon, he diagnosed, then glanced at his reflection. His hair had been brown for quite some time. Since someone was obviously hunting him, it wouldn’t hurt to alter his appearance.
He entered the parlor, not surprised to find a few people waiting. Every business in the Quarter enjoyed a boost from Mardi Gras, except perhaps church services. He put his name on the list, took a seat, and waited. Forty minutes later, he was brought back by the hairdresser.
“Hi there, what’ll it be?” she asked in a friendly way.
“Color, trim, and wash, if you please,” Bones replied.
“You English have the loveliest accents.” She laughed. “Makes everything you say sound so proper.”
After she washed his hair, she led him to her cubicle. Bones read her name on her beautician’s certificate and gave a snort of amusement.
“Rebecca DeWinter. Was that an intentional reference?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Yeah. My parents loved that book. You’re the first person who’s tied my name to it. Not many people are big readers of the older classics.”
Bones stifled his next snort, because telling her that he still considered Rebecca to be new fiction would require too much explanation.
“I go by Becca, though,” she added, giving his head a last toweling. “So, what are we doing with color today?”
What shade hadn’t he done recently? “Make it blond.”
She blinked at him in the mirror. “Really?”
“Platinum, the whole lot of it.”
Her hand was still in his hair, absently fingering his curls. Bones met her eyes in the mirror. She turned away quickly and threw “Let me just mix the color” over her shoulder.
A smile tugged his mouth. He had no false modesty about his looks. They’d been his trade in the seventeen hundreds when he was human and survived by selling his body to women. Since then, they’d ensured that he didn’t spend many nights alone, but by his choice, not for need of coin anymore. And at times, he’d used his looks when he was hunting lethal, feminine prey. They’d been a useful tool, but Bones placed far more importance on maintaining his wits and strength.
Becca came back and applied the color to his hair. Bones chatted with her, learning that she’d worked here for a couple of years, lived just outside the Quarter, and—interestingly enough—had been closing up the night Eric Greenville was murdered.
“…such a shame,” Becca continued. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen those tour groups by our window while the guides talk about that old house. They can’t stand on their corner, since that’s private property, so they hang out in front here. How awful for someone to be robbed and murdered by a person he met on one of those.”
“Is that what the papers say happened?” Bones asked, though he already knew the answer.
She shrugged. “Yeah. Weird stuff always happens during Mardi Gras.”
That might be true, but Bones was more interested in how Becca might have caught a glimpse of Delphine LaLaurie that night, whether she realized it or not. He’d intended to track down the tour guide from that evening, for the same reason, but that person would be much more recognizable to Delphine. Becca was anonymous. She could be right useful, and judging from her scent—and the lingering looks she snuck his way—she wouldn’t be averse to spending more time with him.
“I’m in town on business,” Bones said casually. “Leaving soon after Mardi Gras ends, but I wondered if you’d fancy having dinner with me?”
He’d been watching her in the mirror as he asked. Her eyes widened, then she broke out into a smile.
“Um, sure. That would be nice.”
She was quite pretty. Shoulder-length brown hair with blond highlights, a nice full mouth—and arse—and she looked well into her twenties, so not a novice when it came to dating.
Infinitely biteable, Bones decided with a speculative gaze. “Are you free tonight?”
She glanced away. Funny how many otherwise confident women shied under a direct look.
“Yeah. I get off in an hour, but you know, I’d want to go home and change…”
“Smashing, I’ll pick you up at your house ’round eight,” Bones stated, giving her his charming smile. It worked well enough. She didn’t argue, as it were.
When he left the salon, his hair was champagne blond, he had Becca’s address in hand, and a far different plan for to-night than he’d started out with. You might turn out to be my homing beacon for Delphine, Bones thought, giving Becca a peck on the cheek while promising to pick her up later. Or at the very least, we’ll both have dinner tonight.
4
Becca ordered a salad for her entrée. Bones, used to the baffling tendencies of women on first dates to pretend they didn’t eat, said nothing. He just ordered the large prime rib with three sides and cajoled Becca into eating half his food. Aside from being thinner than he preferred, Becca could also use the extra iron from the red meat, since Bones intended to lower her blood count by a pint before the evening was finished.
After dinner, they walked along the streets of the Quarter. Bones gave Becca his coat, since her short dress with spaghetti straps did little to keep out the chill. Around them, the crowds were getting livelier as alcohol mixed with the veil of darkness, and the primal vibe of the city urged people to lose their normal inhibitions.
The hum of energy and excitement coming from the writhing banquet of humanity brought out the undead in force as well. Bones, under the pretext of joining in the festivities, bought masks for himself and Becca. His hid half his face, but hers was a silly little thing with feathers that covered only the area around her eyes.
With his aura of power carefully in check, new hair color, mask, and persona of being just another blood drinker strolling with his future meal, Bones was as disguised as he could be. Somewhere in this seething mass of people, the LaLauries could be hunting, choosing their next victim. Time for Becca to assist him.
Bones drew her a few feet into the next alley they came across. Even above the raucous noise around them, he could hear her heartbeat speed up as he leaned down.
Instead of kissing her, however, Bones brought his face close to hers, letting green spill out of his eyes while he spoke low and resonantly.
“Remember the girl, Becca? The dark-haired one you saw that night walking with the murdered boy, can you see her face in your mind again?”
Bones knew she could. Determining that Becca had seen Delphine with Eric was the first thing he’d done when he arrived at her house earlier. A few flashes of his eyes, some help regressing her to that evening, and Bones was sure Becca had gotten a clear view of the female ghoul. Now to focus Becca on Delphine’s image, so she’d recognize her on the spot if she saw her again.
Becca nodded, transfixed by his gaze. Bones caressed her cheek.
“If you see her again, you’ll tell me at once. If I’m not with you, you’ll ring me straightaway, but you will not go anywhere with her, ever.”
“Ever,” Becca echoed.
“You won’t remember this conversation, either; you’ll only remember to act as I’ve told you if you see her. And no matter the circumstances, you won’t notice my eyes being anything but brown, or my teeth being anything but normal, right?”
Another nod. “Right.”
“Good.” Bones smiled. The emerald light left his eyes. Once free of their entrapping glow, Becca blinked, her awareness returning. Her gaze flicked to his mouth, and she licked her lips.