There were three people seated at the table—a very pretty blond woman, and two men, one dark and one blond. All three rose at once to greet them as Elvi said, “This is my best friend Mabel, her life mate DJ and a dear friend of ours, Harper.” She gestured to each in turn as their group came to a halt and spread out a bit in the dining area. “And this lovely young lady is Stephanie, who will be staying with us for a while.” She beamed a smile at the girl, then added, “And Mirabeau and Tiny, who were kind enough to see her safely here and miss out on the wedding party after the ceremony.”
“You didn’t miss much,” DJ, the darker male, assured them as he moved forward to shake hands. “There was no drunkenness or bawdy jokes, just a bunch of dressed-up people wishing they could go home and get naked.”
“DJ” Mabel shook her head, but she was smiling at the man, obviously not really upset by his words.
“Well it’s true,” DJ said, unrepentant. “What’s the first thing we did when we could finally leave and go back to our hotel room?”
“Dear God, they’re everywhere,” Stephanie muttered.
Knowing she was talking about new life mates who couldn’t seem to do anything but “lust after each other or do it” as she’d put it earlier, Mirabeau turned her back to the group to give a warning look to the girl and heard a horrified gasp behind her.
“Child, what happened to your hair?”
Mirabeau turned back around, a hand going self-consciously to the back of her head at that exclamation from Mabel, but the woman hurried forward and immediately turned her around to get a better look at it.
“What on earth,” Elvi’s friend breathed, and Mirabeau felt her plucking at the hair left on the back of her head.
“A homeless guy ripped some of her extensions out,” Stephanie said helpfully, and Mirabeau didn’t miss the amusement in her voice as Elvi and Mabel crowded around to examine the damage.
“Well, we’ll have to fix that for you,” Mabel decided firmly.
“Yes,” Elvi agreed, and began to urge both Mirabeau and Stephanie out of the dining room and toward a winding staircase in the front foyer. “Come along. Tiny can call Lucian while we fix your hair.”
“Yes, you can’t go around looking like that. I thought you’d been scalped when I first saw it,” Mabel said from somewhere behind her, then asked, “Are there supposed to be pink patches in your hair, or is that a result of the extensions?”
“She had fuchsia tips before Marguerite took her to the hairdresser,” Elvi explained in a hushed tone.
“Oh, my, well…that’s…interesting, child,” Mabel responded weakly, and Mirabeau felt a bubble of laughter at the back of her throat. It was obvious the woman wasn’t sure what to make of it, but then despite her youthful looks, Mabel was somewhere in her early sixties and probably not into the new styles. Of course, Mirabeau was even older still, but had been born immortal and had never looked or even really felt old. These two ladies were new turns who had been gray-haired and grandmotherly before their turn. Which was probably why Mabel had called her child when Mirabeau was actually her elder. The woman hadn’t gotten used to the idea that, at least physically, she was now a young woman.
“Here we are,” Elvi said cheerfully, steering them into a large room with a king-sized bed and sitting area. “This will be your and Tiny’s room while you’re here.”
Mirabeau was blinking at the announcement, when Mabel explained, “Marguerite told us she felt sure the two of you were life mates when she had Lucian put the two of you together to bring Stephanie here. And it’s obvious she was right.”
“It is?” Mirabeau asked with dismay, sure she hadn’t said or done anything that might give away her feelings for the mortal.
“You don’t have to say anything, dear,” Elvi said gently. “Your thoughts are pretty loud. They must be. Mabel and I haven’t quite got the hang of reading thoughts yet. We can barely read mortals, and only then with a lot of effort, but you and Tiny are like a pair of radios playing at top volume.”
“And you’re broadcasting a porno station,” Mabel announced with a grin. “Every time you glance his way, your mind is undressing and doing delicious things to him, and he’s no better.”
“I told you you were screaming your thoughts,” Stephanie said with vindication.
Mirabeau merely closed her eyes and wished she were dead.
“You can hear her thoughts then too?” Elvi asked with surprise, and Mirabeau opened her eyes to see Stephanie nod.