Page 39 of Inked in Bloom
Briar’s trimmed facial hair trails the stiff line of his jaw, his mouth drawn tight. Everything about him is severe, not the carefree instructor who carelessly strips in front of the class, demonstrating how seamlessly he’s adapted to harbinger life. He doesn’t glance up at me, instead keeping his focus on the notes scribbled on his desk.
“Too sick to teach but well enough to be here working?” Iclacktoward the chairs in front of his desk and take the right, crossing my leg over my knee.
“Meeting was too important to reschedule,” Briar says with a frown. His voice is strained, lacking its usual authoritative finesse.
He glances at my heels, then his attention is back on the notes he’s reading over. The corner where his jaw meets his neck tenses, moving the final sweep of ink that snakes along his throat. He taps the papers together a few times and sets them to the side of his desk, bringing his face up.
Dark crescents curve beneath his lavender eyes. He looks like shit. Still handsome, but shit, nonetheless.
I should have known he’d be the one Dani would send me to. Next time I’ll keep my annoyance with them to myself.
The nauseafrom earlier intensifies, anxiety bubbling in my gut.
I could leave. Try to find someone else, anyone else, to help me with my issue. Logically, Briar didn’t purposefully put me in harm’s way or want me dead. But it’s really hard to listen to logic when my emotions are vivid splatters of paint tossed onto my already frazzled composure.
“Is there something you wished to discuss with me, Dr. Tanner?”
His use of my last name and former title make my chest pinch. No one here calls me anything other than Monroe. Like I never existed before this—my past clipped away. But he saw me. Glimpsed my life in a way no other harbinger, no other person has. I can’t tell if he’s being kind or taunting me with the honorific.
Blinking back the heat building behind my eyes, I focus on the task at hand. “Yes. I’ve run into a bit of a problem and Dan— Radix Daneel said you would be the best person to talk to.”
Briar’s face hardens. “What’s the issue?”
It isn’t lost on me that the last time I saw him I was yelling at him and making him agree to stay out of my way. He’d kept his word—didn’t even show up to teach. Regardless, I need his help, temporarily.
Be direct. Professional. Don’t think about this large, tatted, bristly man as Sir Thumps-A-Lot who you used to pet while watching Smash or Pass.
“I need to talk to Fate, but I know I can’t do that directly without a Radix.” I clear my throat, readjust my glasses, and lift my chin.Briar being the one to handle this for me is frustrating, but it also presents a unique opportunity, and I’m not above playing the guilt card. “Can you speak withher on my behalf? I think that’s fair, given the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” The veins beneath his viny throat jump.
Heat flares between my ribs. I almost lift my hand, rub away what feels like extreme heartburn, but I ball them at my sides, not wanting to draw more attention to my mark.
“Well, as I see it, I’m in this predicament—you know, being dead and all—because I was chasing after what I thought was a sweet, innocent bunny that needed my help and not a”—I bite back on the snark, not wanting to overplay my hand—“very capable immortal who didn’t need me at all.”
My chest heaves in the silence and the lack of a heartbeat, of that anxious pulsing I’ve grown so accustomed to, stings more than admitting I’m dead. Than admitting this isn’t a nightmare dressed up in pretty florals, lace, and tatted harbingers.
“You made that very clear last night.” Briar’s words are clipped, and he doesn’t miss my grip on the wood of the chair, nails digging into the grain. He blinks a few times and then adjusts his dove-gray button-up. “What do you want me to talk to her about?”
Be direct.“I have a mate mark, and I need to speak with Fate about how to remove it.”
Briar’s jaw goes slack. He looks like he’s about to say something, but I stick up a hand. “Before you try to make it sound wonderful, don’t. Maybe they are. Maybe this person is the best Bloom to ever blossom. Someone who actually has magic. Regardless, I don’t want to be tethered to someone. I just got here. I’m still dealing with the whole being dead thing and focusing on getting through my training.” I hold his stare. “Having to be tethered to some perky littleBloom who’s going to be so excited to have a mate seems rather unfair—to them, that is. Don’t you agree?”
Silence unfurls in the space between us. There’s only the tapping of my heel on the wood, thetickof the clock on the flower-clad wall, and the distant echo of harbingers walking down the hallway outside.
“Dr. Tanner,” Briar says, eyes pitying and dull. At least I’ve hit the emotional appeal of making him feel guilty enough not to reject my request outright. “What do you know about mate marks?”
I sigh. “They are created by Fate. Supposed to be a blessing.”
I drip a heavy dose of sarcasm over the last part.
“Mates are meant to fortify you.” His instructor-smooth voice returns, but it’s low, gentle. Getting up from behind his desk, he comes and leans against it in front of me. “Not be some sort of anchor you’re dragging around. Someone you can count on.”
“I’ve never needed to count on anyone but myself. Why start now?”
“There’s more to it than that.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a distinct edge to it that wasn’t there before. Like I’ve somehow offended him.
“I’m sure there’s some weird sex thing too.”
