Page 85 of Inked in Bloom
“Jessica!”
She shuffles backward until she bumps into the wall, her cloudy eyes looking cornered.
There’s a long, definitely annoyed sigh that comes from behind me. I nod toward Briar, and Jessica cranes her tiny neck. “See, nothing to be scared of. It’s just me and Sir Thumps-A-Lot.”
Briar huffs and mutters something under his breath.
I shrug. “Sorry.”
“You aren’t,” he says, shaking his head.
The corner of my mouth lifts into a lopsided grin. “Not even a little bit.”
Jessica inches forward and stares up at me. I’m not sure if she can truly see me, but I’m certain she senses ourpresence. If only humans could be so aware. I’m honestly amazed she’s still alive and kicking. At least one of us is.
“Their bedroom is upstairs.”
Briar steps in front of me. At first, I think he’s trying to block me, but then he turns around and bends down as low as he can without kneeling. “Hop on.”
I cross my arms. “You can’t be serious.”
He glances over his shoulder. “You’re in pain. Weak. And you’ve barely been able to walk since I found you. There’s no way you’re getting up those stairs by yourself.”
I hiss a breath between clenched teeth. “Fine.”
Wrapping my quivering arms around his neck, he slides his hand under my thighs and counts to three. I barely have the strength to jump up. He releases a low grunt and adjusts us so I can cling to him.
“Prefer—not to—be—choked,” he growls, taking a few steps forward.
I loosen my elbows from pinning either side of his throat.
“How was I supposed to know you aren’t into that?” I tease as he starts up the stairs.
He makes a strangled sound, and I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t fill me with a heady sense of pride. Especially when it takes him a second to keep ascending.
The skin around his neck is clammy, and a chill skates down the nape of mine. “Are you okay?”
“Just dandy.”
“That is the first adjective that comes to mind when I think of you,” I grumble.
His teeth chatter, but he huffs out a laugh. “So you think of me?”
I ignore the question. The last thing I need to recall are mymanythoughts about Briar Bloom.
I point at the open doorway ahead. “In there.”
Briar takes us over the threshold, and I suck in a breath, bracing myself for what I’ll find.If Beth’s alone, at least she has Jessica, I tell myself, preparing some preemptive solace.
Briar sets me down by the bed. It takes me a moment to get my bearings. Leaning over, I stare at the peacefully sleeping forms of Richard and Beth, his arm slung across her torso. I exhale a shaky breath.
They are both here. Happy.
My eyes burn, and I wipe my cheek, expecting to come away with tears, but there’s nothing. My skin is dry and the pads of my fingertips scrape like sandpaper. Briar spins me to face him, his brows pinched beneath his glasses. “Richard and Beth are safe. Jessica is downstairs. It’s time to go. We need to get you back before?—”
I hold up a hand, stopping him, and turn toward the two people who raised my best friend and treated me like an extra daughter. My chin wobbles.
Whenever I imagined immortals, reading about them in stories, I envisioned fearless, powerful beings who never felt pain. The reality of being an immortal is the opposite. Yes, we’re gifted powers, but a lifespan doesn’t change one’s ability to experience regret, hurt, or guilt. We just carry those burdens with us beyond the veil and into the afterlife. Maybe they’d fade over time, but emotional wounds still bled through immortality.
