With a guilty crash, Hetta came tumbling out. “I’m sorry!”
The skunk’s tail flew up.
And Conleth—disappeared.
A sudden gust of wind whipped Paige’s hair around her face. She blinked at her abruptly empty arms, then at Hetta, who was looking equally startled.
“Where did it—” the girl started.
A distant scream floated through the open door.
“…Go,” Hetta finished.
CHAPTER 24
Conleth was not entirely sure he was a shifter at the moment. His pegasus had retreated so far in disgust, it felt like his animal spirit had left his body entirely. He only wished he could do the same.
“Conleth?” Paige came into view around the corner of the shower block, a laundry basket in her arms. “Are you out here? I’ve brought you some towels and?—”
She stopped dead, mouth dropping open.
He grimaced. Normally, he would have welcomed an opportunity to be dripping wet and mostly naked in front of his mate. At the moment, however, the last thing he wanted was for her to come any closer.
“Stay downwind.” He switched off the hose, water running down his bare chest. At least he’d left his boxers on in case any campers wandered past—not that there was much chance of anyone voluntarily coming within fifty yards of him for the foreseeable future. “Leonie took one whiff and banned me from setting foot in the showers until the worst was off, so I’ve been trying to decontaminate myself outside. Just leave the towels over there.”
Paige didn’t move, still staring at him. Though it didn’t seem to be his exposed body that had captured her attention. Instead, her gaze seemed riveted to his…head?
“Conleth,” she gasped, and not in a good way. “Your hair!”
Like an utter idiot, he looked up, as though this was going to help him inspect the top of his own head. “What about it?”
“It’s…” Paige appeared to grasp for words. “Orange.”
“Of course it’s orange. It’s always been orange. I’m a natural redhead, as should currently be obvious.”
“No, I mean…” She jerked her chin at the tin bucket at his feet. “Reallyorange.”
Conleth looked down at his reflection. She was not wrong. If anything, ‘really’ orange was an understatement. He would have gone for a different adjective.Violently, perhaps. Orhideously.
He sighed. “Well, Callum will be delighted, at least. No one’s going to be able to get us confused now.”
Paige set down her laundry basket, still goggling at his hair in fascinated horror. “What happened?”
“I did.” He flipped his washcloth at the bucket. “Buck mixed up a concoction that’s supposed to neutralize the chemicals in skunk spray. I was so fixated on dunking myself as fast as possible, I didn’t stop to consider what was in it.”
“Which is?”
“Dishwashing soap and baking soda, in part.” He ran a hand through his bleached hair, wincing at the dry, crisp texture. “But mostly, rather a lot of hydrogen peroxide.”
“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have put that on your hair.” Paige handed him a towel. “How long did you leave it on?”
“I have absolutely no idea. How bad is it?”
From the way Paige hesitated, she was trying to think of a tactful way of phrasingYou look like a walking traffic cone.“Well, if anyone can pull off that color, it’s you.”
“No, I mean the stink. I can’t tell. My sense of smell shut down an hour ago, much to my relief.” He ducked to offer her the back of his neck, which had taken the worst of the blast. “Here, smell me.”
Too late, it occurred to him that this was not a good idea for more than one reason. Paige’s cheeks flushed, but she stepped closer. Stretching up on her toes, she inhaled deeply.
