Page 73 of Inked in Bloom
I have no words. The silence says them all.
Maybe I am meant to help from right where I am? But wouldn’t that mean giving up on everyone who relied on me in life?
I’m not sure I’m ready to.
We say our goodbyes, make a tentative and noncommittal plan to meet up in the off season, and part ways. She dances over to Jax, leaping into the trees and disappearing with him, but her words linger, a chill skating through my veins. Unlike the thin coating of frost shifting into dew across the blades of grass below me, their significance doesn’t so easily melt away.
APRIL
30
MONROE
“It’s time,” Skylar says, squinting into the distance. The last drop of sunlight drips into the golden pinks and majestic purples rippling through the April horizon. “See you on the other side.”
“See you there.” I nod and we wait for the ground to open for us. A moment later, Skylar shifts and dives down the rabbit hole. I’m alone despite the crowds mulling about Keukenhof’s gardens. Their murmurs amplify the nerves vibrating through my body. Only the veil currently separates me from the answers to questions that have been hopping through my head over the last few weeks.
What updates would Cherri have for me?
Once we debrief, I’ll know what happened after my death. It’s a bit daunting to think about, but knowing everyone is okay is worth it. Surely I’ll be able to give Cherri some small tasks to help them out. I doubt that would count asinterfering in the affairs of mortals. Technically, bringing spring influences them, so a few physical manipulations that our magic can handle shouldn’t be an issue. Besides, Cherri’s happy to do it. I’d do the same for her, after all.
Settling my hand over my sternum, I gently brush the markings beneath my top, ones I pretend don’t exist most times. Just like I pretend there’s no one on the otherside of my unclaimed bond. It’s better that way. I trace along the stems, and a shiver skips down my ribs. With my eyes closed, I think of City Hall, picturing every detail I can catalog. I shrink into my furry form and jump into the hole. The world around me folds in on itself as I whiz through the veil, snapping back into Florezca and staggering on thick paws atop the auditorium’s dais. A bit dizzy, I manage to shift and catch myself, gripping my knees for stability. I scan the room once I’m upright. “Skylar? Cherri?”
The room is dim, completely empty as far as I can tell. I descend the staircase, halting at the silhouette looming in the doorway.
Briar.
Frustration ripples from him, bounding into me while my body bumbles, off balance from its trip through the veil. I stumble and Briar catches me. He searches my eyes for something then unfurls his hand where a tiny potion bottle with blue fizzy liquid sloshes back and forth. “Drink this. It will help with the nausea.”
“What are you doing here?” I slur out, stifling the urge to throw up. I peek over his shoulder where harbingers mill about City Center.
He pops the cork and hands it to me, waiting until I’ve gulped it down before he takes it. I wince at the syrupy sweetness.
Briar guides me back into the auditorium and gestures for me to pick a seat. Once I do, he takes the one next to mine. “I came because I needed to speak with you.”
“Why?”
“I think you know.” His voice is stern in a way that would be hot if I weren’t dreading what was coming next.
Has he figured out he’s the mate I rejected?
“Have you seen Cherri?” She should be here, and I’d really rather change the subject.
“That’s why I came.” He lifts a hand, and I almost think he’s going to place it on my shoulder, but it detours, resting on the back of my seat. “Unfortunately, her transportation privileges had to be revoked. Fortunately, it’s her first time out in the mortal realm, so the Radixes agreed no further punishment was necessary.”
“Revoked? Why?” My nails dig into the wooden seat.
“For interfering in the affairs of mortals. It’s our most important rule—with good reason.”
I don’t know why I ask when I already know the answer. It’s my fault she’s being punished. Here I am thinking I’m so clever, but all I’ve managed to do is get one of the people who makes the afterlife bearable in trouble. Nausea churns in my gut, only this time whatever’s in Briar’s little potion bottle won’t make things better or shrink the immense guilt I feel.
How could I be so selfish?
“I was the one who asked her to do it. She was just being a good friend.” My chin dips and I stare at where my nail snags at the seat cushion.
I shouldn’t have brought her into it. I’m such a jerk. All she’s ever done is help and encourage me since I arrived.
“Of course you asked her to do it. No one thinks she randomly decided to seek out specific mortals of her own accord. But whether or not she came up with the idea, she chose to work around the rules.” There’s a harshness to his tone I’m not used to, and I’m not certain whether the heat spreading through me is from his anger or my own. “We have to be able to trust you out there. You may not understand the intricacies as to why, but the rules exist for a reason.”
