Page 159 of Fury In Death

“Thanks. I had no idea it would hang over a table Sam made the year his DeeDee was born. Fate finds a way, and I’m not ashamed to say we both shed a tear over it. This house, it couldn’t be more what our girl needs, like the job couldn’t be more what she wants.”

“She’s a good cop.”

“Yes. Trina, you’re a magician.”

“Fucking A,” Trina agreed. “When I’m done, she’ll look like she spent the day at the spa instead of getting her ass kicked in an elevator.”

“He’s on some kind of super ’roid. And he ambushed me. I don’t need lip dye.”

“It’s not just lip dye, in a very natural tone, it has soothing properties. So quiet. We trust you to take down bad guys. Trust me with face and hair.”

A woman came in, one who looked as if she’d walked runways in Paris, in Milan. Trina had probably done the hair in the fancy braid that swept back from the high-cheekboned, almond-shaped amber-eyed, gold-dust-skinned face.

“Circe, meet Eve. Eve, this is Sam’s mother, Circe.”

One of Peabody’s “grannies”? Eve thought. How?

“At long last,” she said in a voice as smooth as her face. “We’ve been worried about you. And since we took time to watch some of the media report, had reason. I see Trina’s working her magic. I’m going to work some of mine.”

“Circe’s a healer,” Phoebe told Eve.

“Okay, listen, I—”

But the woman already ran long, slim fingers over Eve’s rib cage.

“Ah, very well treated, but still some pain here. You block it well. The shoulder . . . we’ll draw some away. Breathe out now, brave girl, breathe out the dark, breathe in the light.”

Outnumbered yet again, trapped by manners, wrapped in confusion, she breathed.

Then Mavis came in, a short purple dress scattered with glittery silver stars stretched over her baby mountain, silver boots rising up under the swingy skirt.

Her hair, also purple and scattered with silver stars, spilled in curls out of a high topknot.

“Oh, you look good! You look good hitting mag! Do you feel good? Do you?”

Because tears threatened eyes dyed as purple as the dress, Eve would have lied, but she didn’t have to. “Yeah, all good.”

Rubbing circles on the mountain, Mavis moved closer, closer, until her nose all but bumped Eve’s. “You can hardly see any bruising, even this close. Trina, you’re the ult of all ults.”

She kissed Eve’s cheeks as Bella had.

“Hair next.”

“She’s just snipping it some.”

If she hadn’t actually felt Trina’s eyes roll over her head, she’d have seen it in Mavis’s smile.

In the end, though she couldn’t claim her body hit mag, it hit good, and that was more than enough. Trina may have fussed with her eyes, smudging stuff, but she’d also managed to conceal the shiners. And maybe she’d done some of the fussy stuff with the hair, but no strange colors added.

“My work is done.”

Relieved, Eve stood. “I appreciate it.” At Trina’s snarky look, Eve repeated, “I appreciate it. Sincerely.” She turned to Circe. “And I appreciate whatever you did.”

“We all have gifts. They’re ours to give or withhold.”

“And here’s mine.” Phoebe handed her a glass. “Champagne cocktail.”

“Come down, come down, everybody come down.” Mavis grabbed Eve’s hand. “So many people are here, and we’re already having the mag of all times. You have to meet McNab’s family. They’re triple cartwheels.”