“Don’t start the party early, please.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
Laughing, I threw a pillow at him. “Get out of here. I’m going to shower and dress and then start setting up.”
As Aegis darted away from the pillow and slipped around the door, I padded into the bathroom for a shower. The first thing on my renovation list for the mansion had been to hire the Alpha-Pack—the local werewolf pack that owned the main contracting company on the island—to revamp the bathrooms. They had reno’d all six of them first thing after I moved in. Now, in my en suite, I had a huge spa tub, a walk-in shower, and a two-sink vanity.
I turned the water in the shower and slipped beneath the rainshower showerhead as the pulsing side jets beat a welcome tattoo on my body. Leaning my head back, I settled in as the warm water washed over me. The day had been long and chilly, sex had been sweaty, and there was nothing like a shower of warm water and amber-scented soap.
As I loofahed my arms and legs, exfoliating everything I could reach, a faint click caught my attention. The bathroom door had just opened.
What the hell? Had Aegis forgotten something? Bubba couldn’t open doors, at least not that I knew of. I cautiously wiped away a patch of condensation from the shower door and cupped my eyes to peer out. Sure enough, there was somebody in the bathroom with me, and it wasn’t Bubba. No, whoever this was was bipedal, at least.
I considered my options. I was stark nekkid, but I didn’t need clothes to use my powers. I could attack first—send out a nasty ball of energy to whap whoever it was, or I could try a paralyzing charm.
The former would hurt anybody who wasn’t immune to fire and lightning, but if it was a friend, they’d be fried. Not that most of my friends came creeping into my bathroom, but I wouldn’t put it past a few of them. The latter would only work on humans, and there just weren’t many humans on Bedlam. As I squinted, trying to figure out my uninvited guest’s motives, I detected the scent of musk and wine beneath the lingering fragrance of the amber bath gel I was using.
Hell. Musk? Wine? Those scents were all too familiar. I slammed open the shower door, almost breaking the glass, as I managed to startle the satyr. Standing there large as life, his denim shorts sporting a tent pole that would do any male proud, Ralph Greyhoof was holding my hairbrush in one hand, a plastic baggie in the other.
I stepped out of the shower, planted my hands on my hips, and barked out, “What the hell do you want in my house, Ralph? And what are you doing with my hairbrush? You have ten seconds to answer before I fry your freaking ass right into the hospital.”
Chapter 2
RALPH DROPPED THE brush. His erection deflated immediately. With satyrs, everybody knew when their cocks were crowing a wake-up call—the scent alone was enough to floor you. Being around a horny satyr was like hanging out with an elk herd during rutting season.
I’d dated one many years ago—a satyr, not an elk—and I’d had one of the sorest pussies around. Satisfied, but sore. Satyrs were huge—they couldn’t help it, but not a lot of women dared take them on. There were times when I looked back on that relationship and wondered why I had left him. After the vampires caught my sweet Tom and turned him, I’d let myself off the leash. And when my friends and I finally walked away from the carnage, we had thrown ourselves into playing wild and free, taking multiple lovers and paramours. The wine and magic had run rampant. But after a while, the madness diminished and Sandy, Fata, and I had moved on.
“I’m not doing anything.” Ralph Greyhoof shifted his eyes. He was lying, of course. I knew him from way back and I knew that he wasn’t prone to telling the truth. Satyrs were smart and they were sneaky. Underhanded? Not necessarily. Sneaky? Always.
He leaned against the vanity, eyeing me the way a hungry kid eyes a candy dish. It suddenly dawned on me that wandering around naked in front of a satyr might not be the best idea. I reached for my robe and slipped it on, belting it tightly.
“Then you tell me what the hell you’re doing in my bathroom.”
“You didn’t answer the door.” Ralph frowned, staring at my boobs. Well, at the chest of my bathrobe.
“Eyes on my face, Ralph!”
He grumbled, but met my gaze.
“I didn’t answer the door because I was taking a shower. You don’t just walk into someone’s house if they don’t answer their door, you idiot.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t mean it, of course. “I’ll go now.” He started to backtrack toward the door.
“Hold it right there.” I leaned down to pick up my brush and place it back on the vanity. As I saw the hair in the bristles, it dawned on me just what he had been doing. “You were after some of my hair, weren’t you? What are you up to, Ralph?” I shook the brush at him. “And don’t you try to bullshit me. I’m one of the most powerful witches on the island and you know better than to fuck with me, Greyhoof. Why were you stealing hair from my brush?”
He froze in his tracks, letting out a sigh that sounded more like a snort. He was tall and imposing, but he was afraid of me and that’s the way I wanted to keep it.
Around six-three, his biceps gleamed, and the fur that clung to his goat-like legs was silky, brown, and plush. Ralph was a fairly handsome guy. His eyes were wide and slanted ever so slightly. A rich, dark topaz, they gleamed with Otherkin light. His braid hung down to his butt. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a muscle tank.
“Somebody asked me to.” He spread his hands. “Honest. Business has been slow and I figured it couldn’t hurt to take a side job.”
I tapped my foot. “I don’t believe you. You’re up to something, Ralph Greyhoof, and I plan on finding out what. But for now, just get out of my house and don’t you ever come in again without permission.”
He shuffled his hooves, his pretense at innocence falling away. He pressed his lips together but then bluster took over. “Yeah, well quit trying to pinch my customers! We were here before you. You just saunter over here to the island, take up with a vampire, and then try to put us out of business? You’re a leech, Maddy Gallowglass. A leech!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Not this again.”
Ralph Greyhoof and two of his brothers—George and William—ran a B&B a few miles away. Or rather, a bed-and-brothel, I liked to call it. The satyrs offered more than just a nice room and muffins for breakfast. They catered mostly to women, mostly, and their weekend specials came with a smile and a little sumthin’-sumthin’ extra. We weren’t really competition, but the Greyhoofs didn’t believe it and they were convinced we were aiming to put them out of business, even though the Bewitching Bedlam B&B was a lot more innocuous than the Heart’s Desire Inn.
I confiscated his plastic bag and motioned to the door. “Out of my bathroom. Get your ass downstairs to the kitchen and we’ll talk.”
He gulped—I saw his Adam’s apple move—and, after a brief stare down, turned tail and headed downstairs. I followed, deciding I’d better search him for stray strands of my hair before he left. Hair made for powerful magic. Blood was better, but hair worked just fine when you wanted to cast a spell on someone. Which is why I still had a plastic sandwich bag full of hair and bloody tissue from my ex, Craig. While we were married, every time he cut himself shaving, I fished a few of the toilet paper shreds out of the garbage and tucked them away for insurance.