Page 82 of Inked in Bloom
“How’d you find Painting Hope?”
“My former roommate. She was a patient of Dr. Tanner’s.” I swear Lark’s brown eyes flick in my direction. “There was a flyer pinned up in the apartment.”
“Did your roommate come to group?” The flower falls off and Phoebe frowns, trying to reattach it. “Maybe I met her.”
“No, I don’t think she ever did.”
Leaving the discarded petals, Phoebe pushes back from the table. “I’ll go grab us some more clay.”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” The moment Phoebe walks away, Lark looks over at me and beckons me with her hand.
Is she…waving atme?
There’s no way that’s possible, but when I look around, no one else is in her sight line. I move to the opposite side of the table from her. While she keeps her head down, she whispers under her breath. “Dr. Tanner? What are you doing inside?”
“Wait.” My throat dries, stinging as I manage to swallow. I wave at her. “You can see me?”
“Of course I can.” She waves back. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” Lark glances around the room, lifting up onto the balls of her feet. “Is there someone you’re trying to reach? Did Delilah send you?”
“I’m sorry, she didn’t. I just wanted to check in on my old class.” The fact that I’ve given her some false sense of hopemakes me feel terrible. I’ve probably made things worse for this grieving widow.
“It’s okay.” She continues working, glancing at me every so often. I wonder why she’s unphased by talking to a dead person. “I’m not even sure she’s a harbinger.”
“How do you know about us?”
“From my best friend Jolie, your patient.” I can’t help but feel a bit smug that I’m not the only harbinger who’s been back to check on folks. “If Delilah had passed before winter was over, I would have asked her. Figured maybe you were here to get a message to me?”
“Sadly, I’m not. Though I wish I were.” It’s true. The first mortal who sees me in months and I’m utterly useless to help her. “But I’m happy to get word out and see what I can find out. If she’s one of us, they don’t normally allow us to serve where we lived—at least not for a while. Also, she’d be going through training. Might take a few years, depending on her ability to cross back in our world.”
“A few years.” Lark draws out a sigh, then continues to work. “Well, I’ll be here. When someone’s your soulmate, a little patience goes a long way.”
“May I ask… How are you able to see us? I haven’t met anyone who can.”
Does she have a sixth sense? Some sort of clairvoyance? I run through the logical possibilities, but all reason disappears the moment her brown irises meet my stare.
“All you need is for them to believe.”
35
MONROE
Iprepare to summon my floracycle, but swirls of movement glint between clouds in the darkness, stunning me in place.
Storms.
With neon-blue hair and matching eyes, their body glows next to their fellow harbingers. They swarm in a blur of orange, red, and pink, rays of their heat radiating from them, rippling like waves. A pink rose’s petals shrivel, withdrawing into the bush beside me, its green thorns yellowing. According to our classes, their work depends on the region. In a city like DC, they’re tasked with making it sweltering, driving folks to escape for weekends at the beach or to other amusements to cool off. For the Storms near the water, some assist spring’s work—with certain flora fully blossoming in the summer months. Others prefer tearing down our creations and replacing them with their own. And while spring Blooms brought rain, summer Storms brought wild weather, living up to their name. Their temperaments, from what we’d been told in class, were bold, destructive, and haughty.
Now I was in summer’s territory.
Thankfully, they hadn’t spotted me yet. I needed to keep it that way. If the Storms see a spring harbinger,they’ll notify Fate, and I’ve already broken enough rules by returning to the mortal world. The last thing I want is get the Blooms in trouble and worsen whatever this feud is simmering between them. My floracycle would save time but also put a target on my back.
I wiggle my nose, shrinking down into my earthside form. Eachpopof bone sears, unusually painful for the shift. I could go from harbinger to bunny almost seamlessly after a season in the mortal world, but my skin cracks and every part of me is inflamed. It hurts even in this form.
Just blend in and get to the metro.
Scampering across the grass, I halt at the intersection and stare at the red pedestrian signal, waiting for it to turn white and countdown so I can cross. My entire body throbs from the shift, and my eyes flutter, the world blurring. I’m tired. So tired and thirsty. If I can just find some water and a spot to rest…
Stay with it. This is your chance to see Charlotte’s parents.
