Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(4)

“Well, he’s not scooping anything out of me.”

“On that note, better avoid alcohol. I know how you love your wine, but—”

“No vino, no fun-o.”

Wyatt laughed. “Be sure to take pictures.”





Chapter 3





“I must be crazy for letting Gem talk me into this.” I stared up at Claude, who hovered over me with a hungry look in his eyes.

The kind of look a hairdresser gives when they see a head of long hair walk into their salon.

He continued spraying a stream of water through my hair and massaging my scalp with his other hand. It felt so good that I’d almost forgotten about the cold sink pressing against my neck. Claude had the gaze of a savage lion, his golden eyes rimmed in black. “It’s about time you checked out my salon. Razor Sharp is where the magic happens.”

“So this is what you do all day to fight crime?”

Claude gave a tight-lipped smile and continued the sensual massage. There was no denying the man had magic fingers.

That afternoon, Gem had decided to get a touch-up on her roots. Claude could have done her hair at home, but I gathered she liked the attention he lavished on her in front of all those women, who wanted him for themselves. I also suspected that she and Claude had ulterior motives to talk me into chopping and dying my raven-black hair.

Claude had a fascinating operation. He owned the salon and mostly booked preapproved clients. He didn’t go so far as to do full background checks, but he made sure everyone was either an elite member of society or obscenely rich. At the end of the day, if he didn’t hear any juicy gossip that might link to a case, at least he received a generous tip. Most people were careless enough to speak freely in his presence, assuming he was no different from hired help who kept secrets. Especially when they would invite him to their house for a private appointment. Claude said the upper class was like that, and servants were privy to some of the greatest secrets in history.

But Claude was no servant. He stood at six and a half feet tall and looked more like a cross between a Viking and Adonis, with sexy curls of blond hair and sensual lips that were made for exploring a woman’s body. Whenever he’d lick those lips, women would fan themselves. Claude was as Chitah as they came, evident in the way he moved with feline grace and the way his eyes hooded when staring at people. Sometimes he growled and made other catlike sounds that could make a person’s hair stand on end.

I’d seen that behavior toward him in clubs. Except here in his salon, they had to abide by his rules. So they sat obediently in their chairs, black capes fastened around their necks while they watched his every move. Claude could make combing hair look sexy.

He only hired women to work in his salon, which was clever since it never took attention away from him. That allowed him to get close to almost any customer he wanted.

I peered up. “Don’t chop it all off. I know how you guys love to turn two inches into seven.”

Claude stirred with laughter. “Actually, it’s eight. But don’t tell anyone.”

He led me to my chair and lowered the headrest as I got situated. Then he excused himself to check on Gem, who was seated farther down to the left.

“Complete makeover or just a touch-up?”

I swung my gaze toward the man sitting to my right, his medium-length hair covered in foil at the ends. “Would you believe me if I said I just came in here to get my hair washed?”

Still staring ahead in the mirror, he replied, “Only if you believe I’m dying the tips of my hair pink.”

I played with a strand of wet hair. “I’m going to a dinner at some big shot’s house, so they want to polish me up.”

“They?”

“My boss.”

He closed his eyes. “You didn’t strike me as a woman who does what she’s told. Guess I was wrong.”

“Do I know you?”

He chuckled quietly. “I hope your hairdresser doesn’t cut off too much.”

I slouched in my chair, having second thoughts about all this. It was a ridiculous idea, but my black hair was part of my identity. Chopping it off or dying it would make me feel like an imposter.

“Take my advice,” he continued. “Be your own boss in life. Once you get rid of people dictating how you should live, the world is your oyster.”

Claude returned and began soaking up the ends of my hair with a towel.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said.

He gazed at me through the mirror, a smile hovering on his lips. “Too late.”

“I’m serious. I just want a trim.”

He leaned over my shoulder, eyes still centered on mine. “We agreed on highlights.”

I lowered my eyes, thinking about my plans to see my father. It wasn’t as if a few highlights would alter my appearance entirely, but I wanted to look the way he remembered me.

“Claude, I know you can do amazing things with your hands, but I’m not ready for amazing just yet. Snip off the split ends and let’s call it a day.”

He shook his head, but his nostrils were twitching. Claude was trying to figure out my emotional scent, and probably the only thing he could pick up was my resolve. “Female, I wouldn’t do anything but enhance the beauty that’s already there.”

“You gave me some layers last month. That’s progress.”

Claude folded his arms. “I fixed a catastrophe involving duct tape.”

“Don’t give me that look,” I said, lacing my fingers together. “I’m not going to be guilted into something I’ll regret. I’ve already got too many oddities going on; maybe I need something plain in my life.”

Claude growled and reluctantly grabbed the comb off the counter. I should have felt guilty for wasting his time, but I kind of liked seeing him all flustered.

When I looked to my right, the customer beside me was gone.

Claude combed out my hair and sectioned off a piece. “You’re going to have to do a lot of things you don’t necessarily like, but that’s our job.”

I glanced around.

He bent down next to my ear. “No one can hear us. I usually don’t allow Vampires in my shop.”

“Maybe you should. Christian could use a trim.”

“What Christian needs is a lawn mower from the neck up.”

“I wish Viktor had chosen someone else. How am I supposed to carry on a conversation with Shepherd? The man barely grunts at me when passing in the hall.”

“He grows on you.” Claude snipped another section and resumed combing. “If you run out of things to talk about during dinner, rich people like to discuss travel and politics. Given you’ll probably say something offensive on the latter, you might stick to asking him about Paris.”

“What makes you think he’s been there?”

Claude pushed my head down. “They’ve all been to Paris. Some of those European countries have a long Breed history. Most of them have old friends they like to visit.”

I peeked through my hair at his reflection in the mirror. “What exactly does Patrick do?”

“He serves on the panel. The higher authority has officials in every major city, and they take turns rotating who’s going to sit in on trials. They know more about what’s going on in their district than anyone.”

I yawned noisily. “And I have to chat with this guy for how long?”

“If Shepherd has more than four drinks, it’s time to go home. Maybe if you bring up something innocuous like lager or stogies, it’ll give them a topic to discuss. Shepherd isn’t the most talkative male, but careful not to pick the wrong topic or he’ll get on his soapbox.”

“Lovely.”

After a few more snips, Claude circled in front of me where I could see him. The other employees wore black button-up shirts, but not Claude. He had on a black tank top with the store logo RAZOR SHARP on the front, a pair of scissors snipping off the bottom of the P. His tank top showed off his amazing shoulders—the kind a man is born with and doesn’t need to sculpt. Claude could ascend our rock-climbing wall faster than anyone in the group… and using only his hands.

“How are you getting along with Poe? Feeling better about Viktor’s decision to pair you up?”

I shrugged. “He’s okay.”

Claude arched a single brow, and that’s when I remembered he could smell my emotions. Lies, truths, doubt, fear—the only way to avoid Claude sniffing out the truth was to avoid answering questions.

“I noticed earlier you’re still wearing that heart-shaped necklace. Didn’t he give you that?”

I could almost feel the stone burning against my skin. “Don’t read into it or else I’m going to have to spread rumors about all the snuggling you do with Gem.”

“Gem likes my cuddles.” He smirked while snipping the ends of my hair at an angle. “It’s good to see you loosening up.”

I furrowed my brow and shook my hair away. “What do you mean?”

Claude crossed around to the other side and trimmed a few ends. “When you first came into the house, your guard was up. It’s like that for everyone. I have to admit, when I first heard about the Shadow killing people in Breed bars, I never imagined the ruthless killer to look like you.”

I leaned my head back and grinned. “A lot of sleepless nights?”