Ann couldn't believe she had read things so wrong from the minute that mysterious man had walked in the front door. She had pitied him, taking the position of caregiver as she did with anyone who came in needing help in such a rough neighborhood. But this man didn't need help, from anyone. It was clear in his arrogant mannerisms, fancy clothes, and those stunning features that could only belong to an aristocrat.
He was handsome. No, that was calling a lightning strike a small shock. He was blindingly gorgeous. He had high cheekbones, full lips, a hard jaw, and dark, glittering eyes with long lashes. His eyebrows had a slight arch to them, and his hair reminded her of a pirate; glossy and jet black, it waved perfectly to and past his shoulders. He stood at least a foot and a half taller than any normal man with thick muscles that were plain in the fashionable clothes he had hidden beneath his trench coat.
Was he some famous model who liked to trick downtown hairstylists by showing up in a grungy disguise? she wondered. She had fallen for it. Seeing him looking so lost, unkempt, and guarded, she immediately wanted to help him. She liked helping people.
It irritated her beyond words to see him staring at her, glaring, smirking even, as he looked, literally, down at her. At her own height of five feet and six inches, it felt like he was two feet taller.
"Fraud," she muttered, finally finding her voice.
"A fraud, you say?" he asked in that silky smooth, slightly accented voice that made him sound like a foreign aristocrat. "Why would you say that?"
She took a step back from him, "You know what I mean."
"I do?" he asked, daring to look amused.
"You do," she spat angrily, still feeling embarrassed.
"I am unsure as to how I have upset you." He extended a hand to her, "If you would come with me outside, we can discuss it."
"I don't have anything to discuss with you."
"Don't you want me to explain why I'm here?" he asked raising one of his perfect black eyebrows.
"Not really," she lied. "I can guess." She looked him up and down a few times, stating matter-of-factly, "I know your type."
Hot guys. Guys who thought they could play with people's feelings. Guys who treated people like they were beneath them. She could see it in the disdainful way he looked at the others in the salon. A disdain that had been hidden when his beard covered most of his face.
The corner of his lips twitched in a grin, but his eyes remained cold and dark. "Come with me," he said, it was more of a command than a request. She looked around the salon and realized walking outside for a moment would probably lead to less disturbance of the clients and her stylists. As manager of the salon, it was her job to take care of this as professionally as possible, and doing so in front of a packed salon was not taking care of it appropriately.
"All right," she said, opening the front door and motioning outside for him to walk out first.
He did, walking with a smooth gait and a lifted presence, like he literally thought he was some kind of gift to the world. Astoundingly good-looking. Astoundingly arrogant. Yep, she had him pegged.
When they were on the sidewalk, she folded her arms and cocked one hip out, rolling her wrist as she spoke, "Okay. We're here. Out with it."
"I am a shapeshifter, from a thousand years ago. A fraud, as you said, trapped in this human form you see." He touched a thick chain that she hadn't noticed around his neck, it looked old and worn yet somehow strong. "This keeps me bound until my alliance with humanity is assured. I have decided that you are my mate. You shall be my mentor and guide through this journey of learning to be kind to humans, to find my place in the world, and to finally have my powers and life restored." He blinked slowly and locked eyes with her in a way that made her shiver, goosebumps traveling over her skin. "You are truly fortunate."
She took a step back, unsure if she should feel guilty or laugh hysterically. When he had walked in the salon and acted the way he had, she assumed there was something odd about him or he needed help. Now that she knew he was actually one of the most delusional people she had ever encountered, she had no idea how to react to him.
The most beautiful man she had ever met was also the craziest.
She let out a startled laugh and clapped her hands over her mouth as his brows lowered and furrowed in consternation.
"What is so amusing?" he questioned. "I just offered you the chance of a lifetime."
She shook her head, holding back tears of hysteria. When she finally dropped her hand from her mouth, she had no clue what to do with him. What to say to him. Should she call someone to help him or send him to a casting call somewhere?
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"I told you, a thousand years ago," he stated without hesitation.
She swallowed a snort. "And where are you staying?"
"I have yet to find lodgings for myself," he said.
"Right. Lodgings," she said, trying to keep her tone calm. She never thought she would encounter such an arrogant man with these kinds of delusions. Worse yet, he thought, somehow, she played into them. She sighed, "Is there anyone I can call for you?"
He folded his arms, making the muscled bunch and the leather of his trench coat crackle. "Only an ancient oracle who will immediately feel I have failed my mission." He raised an eyebrow, "You would not wish that upon me, would you?"
Despite knowing he was delusional, she couldn't help feeling a magnetic attraction to him that, probably, ever other woman, maybe even every other person, experienced. She folded her arms, unsure what to do.
"Perhaps you could help me find lodgings and we could talk again in the morning?"
She sighed and looked back at the salon. Her next appointment would be arriving any minute. She needed to get back inside and didn't have time to figure out what to do with him. He was saying crazy things, yet he didn't seem crazy. Then there was something curious about him. Something she couldn't place a finger on. Maybe she could find someone for him to stay with, even though she was probably stupid for doing so. But she had a soft heart, and never turned down someone in trouble. Not until she knew his circumstances a little better.
"Okay," she said. "Come back in the salon until closing and we'll talk after."
"Sounds great, love," he said, opening the door for her.
She felt tiny as she walked under his arm, scowling at him. "I'm going to help you, but I'm not your love."
"We shall see," he commented with a grin. He took his seat and leveled his dark gaze on her as she went to help her next client, prickles went up her back.
What have I gotten myself into?
***
Ann tried to focus on her clients, chatting pleasantly with them as she gave them what they wanted in regards to their hair. Pink highlights for a sweet old lady who had been a client for years. A buzz cut for a guy who was headed to the military. Normally, she was able to immerse herself in the world of her clients, lose herself in cutting their hair and looking forward to the end result. But all she could think about was the handsome man awkwardly staring at her from his seat in the corner. Sitting there with his long legs spread like he owned the place, a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.
With his edgy clothes, long, silky black hair, and pirate-like demeanor, she could imagine him being something supernatural, if it wasn't the craziest thing she had ever heard. Was he just messing with her? Whenever she looked over her shoulder, or into the mirror, and caught him staring, he would give her a little smirk, like they were sharing a secret.
He didn't actually believe what he said, right?
He was obviously the type that enjoyed screwing with people. He came down to this part of town when, with those clothes and that jewelry, he could probably go wherever he wanted. She was comfortable with people who needed a hand up. She wasn't comfortable with cocky-as-hell men who seemed to think they owned the world.
After her third client, she had a break, so she went to the counter and sat on the stool to balance the register and look over the employee schedules to see if there were any changes to be made. Although she basically ran everything, and had for years now, it wasn't actually her salon, and the owner would hold her accountable for anything outside of perfection.
She felt the stranger's gaze again and a prickle of irritation ran up her neck. "If you're going to be staring at me like that, you could at least tell me what name I should be cursing in my head," she snapped toward him.
He raised an eyebrow and leaned back lazily, "Elric."
She sighed, "Odd name."
"Only to you. Is Ann short for your full name?"
"Yes."
"What is your full name, Ann?"
"Rhiannon," she said, letting out a long breath and trying to release her tension with it. She wasn't sure if she was angrier with him for putting her off guard or for making her attracted to him when she didn't want to be. But he was just that hot.
"When do you close?" he asked.
"A few more hours," she replied. "Why?"
"Just wondering."
"You could go do something else if you want. And we can talk after."
He leaned back in his chair, lazy once again. "No thank you, I would rather continue my observation."
"Observation of what?" she asked.
"Humanity," he said. "Whether they are worth fighting for."
"Right," she said under her breath for only him to hear. "Because you're some kind of prehistoric shapeshifter here to save us all."
"Not prehistoric." He scoffed, "Medieval. And I never said I was saving anyone yet. That was never supposed to be my job."
She gave him a sidelong glance, not sure how to react. He was the oddest person she had met, and that was really saying something. "Anyway, as I said, we'll close in a few hours, and there aren't really observation hours, but if you behave, you can stay there."
"Behave?" He scoffed again, "Are there rules for sitting in a chair and watching people?"
She folded her arms and stuck one hip out, "Yes, don't be creepy."
"It is creepy to look at you?"
"The way you do, yes," she said. "Like you're going to devour me."
"No, no, I have no intention of eating you. I am not one of those shapeshifters that enjoys eating humans."
She blanched, her pale skin turning lighter, "What?"
He frowned and looked away, "Never mind."
"Anyway, I meant metaphorically. You look like… you're after me."
He crossed his legs at the ankles and put his arms behind his head, "Maybe I am." His dark hair had dried to soft waves that framed his face and made him look like a medieval knight, or a pirate.
"For what?" she inquired.
"I told you," he said, his fingers brushing the metal chain around his neck. "I need you to help me understand humanity and perhaps save the world. Though, I am uncertain I care about either."
She gave him another sidelong glance, "But you care about me?"
"You are different," he said.
The bells above the door jingled and she glanced up as a man walked in. She scanned the schedule for any new appointments with clients she hadn't met on the calendar. The man was tall, head shaved, pale, and he had a bandana obscuring the bottom half of his face. Elric glanced over at him, bored, then turned back to her and continued his staring.
"Hello. Can I help you?" she greeted and casually asked the man, staying behind the register. Several of the other stylists had left for the day, and two others were cleaning their stations and not paying any attention. The bells jingled again as two men followed the other one inside. All tall, muscled, wearing leather, and with bandanas obscuring their faces.
A chill went down her spine. She pulled out her phone beneath the counter and started texting the other two stylists as she pretended to greet the men like she would anyone else.
Go to the back room and lock yourself in.
"What can I help you gentlemen with?" she asked in a slightly high voice, smiling at the men.
The one in the front grinned; she could see it in his meanly sparkling eyes and the way his bandana moved over his covered mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her two staff members send her a confused glance and then head, together, to the back room. When they were safely in, the door quietly closing behind them, she held back a sigh of relief. She needed to keep the men distracted, and call the police.
She glanced at Elric, who looked cool as a cucumber. Like he didn't sense anything wrong with the situation at all. Maybe he really was from a different world, or time, than hers.
The salon had been held up before, and she inwardly groaned at the bad location and the fact that the owner scoffed at putting in better security measures. That same owner would hold Ann accountable for the robbery and probably dock her pay.
"I said, what can I help you gentlemen with?" she asked gently but firmly.
The man in front strode forward, the men behind him chuckling. Elric leaned slightly forward in his chair, curious now. Was he actually out of his mind, or could she depend on him? Or should she be defending him? Who knew? This day was getting weirder by the minute.
"I think you know what you can help me with," the guy said, shoving a bag toward her and gesturing toward the cash register.
She saw Elric look around the salon, noticing everyone else was gone. His eyes widened slightly then focused on her. His head cocked in curiosity. She grabbed the bag from the man and began filling it. One of the men from behind him stepped forward, a metallic clink of an opened knife drew her attention. He held his weapon out threateningly, pointing it at her.
"Don't try to trick us," he said. "No funny business. And hand over your phone."
"I don't have one."
"Bullshit," the third guy said, coming around the counter. As he approached, she grabbed the phone and chucked it as far as she could across the room, shattering it on the wall. The man growled and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in.
Elric stood with a snarl, "Unhand her."
"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it, princess?"
Elric's face twisted and he stared at the man's offending arm on Ann, "Let her go."
Ann didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the situation. The man who thought he was a shapeshifter, whatever that meant, was going to attempt to interfere in an armed robbery. What if he was hurt?
"Be careful," she said. "They've got a knife."
Elric looked around the empty salon, then grinned at her. She was surprised that despite a good amount of anger, he didn't seem to feel the slightest bit of fear. In fact, she could swear she saw some sort of feral satisfaction as he eyed the robbers around him, cracking his knuckles.
"I should thank you guys. After the week I have had, I need this," he said.
The man who held her tightened his arm around her. The man with the knife turned on Elric, switching his weapon from hand to hand in a threatening manner.
Elric laughed, folding his arms over his broad chest, one black eyebrow cocked inquisitively, "That little thing?"
She bit her lip. Why would he be so stupid? At that point, she wished he really was some mythical creature. It would help, probably.
"This would not have been a problem before today, but I am feeling newly protecting of humans, especially that one. I fear, because of this, you are all going to be injured. This is your final warning."
The guy with the knife looked at the one holding her, "This dude is nuts."
Elric growled, "Face me."
The guy lunged forward with his blade as Elric dodged blindingly fast to the side, "I'm gonna kill this psycho!"
Elric laughed and knocked the knife out of his hand with a swift slash of his bare hand. It skittered across the floor. He didn't attempt to go after it, just blocked his opponent from doing so. The man took a step back. His friend, who had been ordering her to empty the register pulled out a knife from his waistband as he walked forward behind his friend. Elric was busy taunting his first opponent. Ann tried to warn him, but it was too late. She winced as she watched the man lunge forward, blade aimed for Elric's midsection.
Her heart seemed to stop in the moments she waited with her eyes closed, listening. Elric let out a loud laugh grabbing the man's hand which held the knife with one hand. The other used to lay the assailant out with a single punch. Elric held up the knife. It had bent like an accordion.
What in the actual hell?
Elric tossed the knife aside, stepping forward with eyes blazing like black diamonds in firelight as he stalked the man holding her. He was no longer amused.
"Let my mate go," he said.
The gut who first attacked Elric with a knife looked at his friend, "This dude is fucking psycho man. I'm out!" He wasted no time scrambling out the front door, dragging his downed friend with him. The guy holding her seemed to consider his options. He released her, stepping carefully around the tall, muscular, pissed off man in front of him to scoot out the door. The bell jingled and she let out a stressed breath leaning into the counter for support while Elric went to the door and stared after them.
"I wish I had my powers. They would not have walked away for such transgressions." He turned to her, "Are you okay?"
She pushed around him, striding to the door and locking it quickly. Without a word, she went back to the counter and slumped on the stool. She didn't know what to say. Should she have chased the guys? Report them to the police? She didn't have any facial descriptions. They didn't have security cameras.
Would they be back? Panic ripped through her as she tried thinking and she felt a large, warm, steadying hand on her back.
"Calm down," Elric said softly. "I would never let anything happen to you."
She pushed away from him, "Who the hell are you? You… bent a knife?"
"I already told you," he said, folding his arms. "Yet even when presented with visible proof, you are determined not to believe it."
Her heart pounded. Was it possible?
He turned to face her, his back to the empty salon as he unbuttoned the front of his shirt. She squealed and put a hand up, "What are you doing?"
"Proving it," he retorted. "Actually, I am lucky, because I would not be able to show you this if I was not in mortal peril. My collar assures that."
She gaped seeing something pale beneath the buttons. Too pale, several shades paler than either of their skin, like white marble. It looked like a sculpture, cold and stone, then before her eyes, they melted back into smooth, tanned skin over hard, rippling muscles.
Did I imagine it? Is this a crazy dream I'm going to wake up from?
She pushed back against the wall, leaning as far back as she could on her stool.
"You have nothing to fear from me," he said. "As I told you, that is unusual. You may be the only human who could truly say that."
"So… you're here… to test us?" she asked. "But you, also, hate us?"
"I hate most humans. They are selfish and petty. The men who were just in here threatening you proves my point."
"But why me? Why am I the one you're staking all your hopes on?"
He went silent at that, his handsome face considering. "I suppose we shall discover this over time. However, as I am, I follow my instincts. My instincts tell me that you are the one I need to stay with. I am not leaving your side."
She ran a hand through her hair as her employees began to trail out of the back room. "We have to talk about this after closing."
"Of course," he said. "But you are not going home without me. You could be in danger."
He tossed the last comment over his shoulder as he went to sit down again. She watched him go, wondering if it was really possible there were mythical shapeshifting beings in the world, hiding among people, questioning if they should help, or kill them.