Captive

Captive by L. J. Smith Page B

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Authors: L. J. Smith
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great: thyme, mint, rosemary, and lavender. It smells wonderful, and it's tranquilizing, too." She scattered bright-colored dried flowers in the steaming water. "Now get in and scrub. Oh, this is good," she went on, sniffing at another bottle. "Chamomile hair rinse-it brightens hair, brings out the highlights. Use it!"
    Cassie obeyed dazedly. She felt as if she'd just been inducted into boot camp.
    When she got back to the bedroom, Melanie directed her to sit down and hold a hot washcloth on her face. "It's 'a fragrant resin redolent with the mysterious virtues of tropical balms,' " Melanie said, reading from a Book of Shadows. "It 'renders the complexion clear and brilliant'-and it really does, too. So hold this on your face while I do your hair."
    "Melanie's wonderful with hair," Laurel volunteered as Cassie gamely buried her face in the washcloth.
    "Yes, but I'm not going to give her a do," Melanie said critically. "I'm just making it soft and natural, waving back from her face. Plug in those hot rollers, Suzan."
    While Melanie worked, Cassie could hear Laurel and Deborah arguing in the depths of Suzan's walk-in closet.
    "Suzan," Laurel shouted. "I never saw so many pairs of shoes in my life. What do you do with them all?"
    "I don't know. I just like buying them. Which is lucky for people who want to borrow them," Suzan called back.
    "Now, let's get you into the dress," Melanie said, some time later. "No, don't look, not yet. Come over to the vanity and Suzan will do your makeup."
    Feebly, Cassie tried to protest as Melanie whipped a towel around her neck. "That's all right. 1 can do it myself-"
    "No, you want Suzan to do it," Laurel said, emerging from the closet. "I promise, Cassie; just wait and see."
    "But 1 don't wear much makeup-I won't look like me ..."
    "Yes, you will. You'll look more like you."
    "Well, somebody decide, for heaven's sake," Suzan said, standing by in a kimono and waving a powder puff impatiently. "I've got myself to do, too, you know."
    Cassie yielded and sat on a stool, facing Suzan. "Hm," said Suzan, turning Cassie's face this way and that. "Hmm."
    The next half hour was filled with bewildering instructions. "Look up," Suzan commanded, wielding a brown eyeliner pencil. "Look down. See, this will give you doe eyes," she went on, "and nobody will even be able to tell you're wearing anything. Now a little almond shadow . . ." She dipped a small brush in powder and blew off the excess. "Now just a little midnight blue in the crease to make you look mysterious . . ."
    Eyes shut, Cassie relaxed. This was fun. She felt even more decadent and pampered when Laurel said, "I'll take care of your nails."
    "What are you using?" Cassie asked trustingly.
    "Witch-hazel infusion and Chanel Flamme Rose polish," Laurel replied, and they both giggled.
    "Don't jolt my hand," Suzan said crossly. "Now suck in your cheeks like a fish. Stop laughing. You've got great cheekbones, I'm just going to bring them out a little. Now go like this; I'm going to put Roseglow on your lips."
    When at last she sat back to survey her work, the other girls gathered around, even Deborah.
    "And finally," Suzan said, "just a drop of magnet perfume here, and here, and here." She touched the hollow of Cassie's throat, her earlobes, and her wrists with something that smelled wild and exotic and wonderful.
    "What is it?" Cassie asked.
    "Mignonette, tuberose, and ylang-ylang," Suzan said. "It makes you irresistible. And I should know."
    Alarm lanced through Cassie suddenly, but before she had time to think, Laurel was turning her, loosening the towel around her neck. "Wait, don't look until you've got your shoes on. . . . Now!" Laurel said jubilantly. "Look at that!"
    Cassie opened her eyes and drew in her breath. Then, scarcely knowing what she was doing, she moved closer to the full-length mirror, to the lovely stranger reflected there. She could hardly resist reaching out to touch the glass with her fingertips.
    The girl in the mirror had

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