Currency in Flesh

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

S he freed my wrists, and I collapsed forward into her. I tried to get my balance, but my legs shook and I couldn’t help but to sag against her chest. “I’m sorry,” I began, but she silenced me with a quiet shhh. My skin was an inferno, each inch that made contact with Lady Cora feeling like it had split anew. Feeble whimpers tumbled from between my swollen lips and for a moment I questioned if I would be able to walk at all.

Strong, cool hands helped to reposition me so my arm was slung over her shoulder. Immediately, the pain in my breasts lessened, and with Lady Cora supporting a bit of my weight, we were able to walk from the cross to her bed, where she lowered me onto the soft mattress. My eyes fluttered closed, and I sank into the cool silk.

I heard the sound of running water and Lady Cora’s footsteps. “This will help,” she murmured softly as she draped something heavy across my chest. I hissed at the icy cold, but within a moment, it had started to dull the edges of my pain. The rim of a glass pressed against my lips. “Drink,” she said, and I gulped down almost an entire cup of water. The mattress sank down, and I felt the weight of Lady Cora settle beside me. Gently, her arm slid around my waist and her head leaned against my shoulder. “You did so well.”

We lay like that a long time. I may have nodded off briefly, but each time I came back to coherency, Lady Cora’s quiet, steady breaths were still right there. My thoughts drifted between the past and the present—Sean backhanding me, me slicing his cheek open, Sean forcing me to have sex with him, Cora making me come without even touching me. Yes, I was essentially dead. My career aspirations would never happen, I would never grow old, I would never use a cell phone or eat at my favorite restaurant again. My world as I knew it was gone. But this? This was something I never could have imagined. I could never have dreamed up the Underworld or the way Lady Cora made me feel. I had never felt this attracted to anyone—how just the sight of her had me ready to do anything to possess her.

I had never wanted to taste another woman, now it consumed my thoughts.

If I had a chance to return to the life I knew, would I even consider it? I didn’t think I could.

I shifted in the bed, rolling slightly to face Lady Cora. Her eyes were open and heavy-lidded, serene. She looked like she wanted to be here beside me.

“I do,” she said. The words were simple, but I couldn’t help the way they made my breath catch in my throat.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I feel… alive. Which is a bit ironic I guess, since I’m basically dead.”

Her lovely mouth curled into a smile, and she pulled me closer. “Allow me to heal you this time.”

I nodded, and she lifted the ice pack that was no longer cold, and carefully moved her hand over my chest. The pain disappeared like it had never existed, the marks fading back and leaving only a smattering of ordinary freckles. Except, on my right breast, where a perfectly rendered, deep indigo rose seemed to have bloomed across my skin. My gaze flitted to Lady Cora, brow lifted.

“I told you, blossom, that all would know you belong to me.” She shrugged. “I thought it fitting.”

I ran my fingers over the flower. “A tattoo?” I had considered getting one about a million times, but had gone from my mother’s brand of purity to Sean’s with little in between. There was always someone ready and willing to be angry with me for making a choice they disapproved of. “It’s beautiful.”

“As I said,” she smirked, “fitting.”

She sat up, and moved to the edge of the bed, bare feet finding the floor. Her arms lifted above her head in a fluid, dancer’s stretch, and it was such a normal thing for someone to do I found myself staring at the way her muscles moved. Everything she did felt otherworldly, even something as simple as loosening tension in her back. When she stood, I felt a twinge of self-consciousness, but I knew she spoke honestly when she complimented my body and told me I was beautiful. Somehow, the most stunning woman I had ever seen found me beautiful. She turned, looking over her shoulder at me, and every word I had wanted to say evaporated like mist beneath the rising sun.

“You look good in my bed.” Her eyes slid over every curve of my almost naked form. “Spend some time in the mineral springs today. Even though I have healed your wounds, your body will appreciate a hot soak.”

“Where will you be?” I knew I was doing a shitty job of hiding my emotions and my face showed every insecurity, but I didn’t care. She had tattooed herself on my skin, I was allowed to be needy .

“The Underworld never sleeps, Grace. Neither so may I.” She stripped off the skintight dress and changed into a black on black suit, smoothing her hair back into a high ponytail, and applying garnet red lipstick. I liked seeing her do things the “normal” way rather than using whatever power allowed her to manipulate reality. It made me imagine a world where we were just two women, living an ordinary life together. We would pay the electric bill and make grocery lists, run out of fabric softener and disagree on the best way to load the dishwasher. It could be the life I might have had if I had worn a different skirt to my job interview all those years ago. I felt suddenly uneasy, a secret grief for a person I never had the chance to be churning in my gut.

Before she could say goodbye, I slipped out of bed and down the steps to the hot spring.

The residents of the meadows smiled cheerily, their eyes lighting upon the rose emblazoned across my chest. Somehow, they all seemed to understand its meaning, and a few souls even bowed slightly as I passed. I had emerged from my soak to find an outfit laid out upon the crisply made bed, and a single daffodil. I smiled, despite myself, liking the way the scents of jasmine, warm amber and smoke seemed to be woven into the very fabric. It was Lady Cora, wrapped around me, and I had no doubt of it being intentional.

I didn’t have a real plan for this visit, but I felt like I needed to clear my head and it wasn’t like there were many options available to me. I’d enjoyed my last trip to the meadows, and I figured I could at least find something to distract me from the absolute chaos that filled my thoughts.

There seemed to be a lot of shops that focused on what I would have considered to be hobbies in my former life. Ceramics, quilting, cooking, stained glass… All things I gladly purchased, but didn’t ever think of as viable career choices. I wondered if maybe so many souls were using this time to do what they had wanted to do in life instead of what they had to. What would I have enjoyed, if given the time to pursue hobbies?

I tried to remember what I liked doing as a kid. I liked to read, but was that just because my mother didn’t let me watch television? Books with magic always drew my attention—dragons, witches, vampires, women with powers that made them strong. I didn’t have many strong people in my life as a child. My mother did her best, but she shrugged off responsibility in favor of faith. I didn’t remember my father at all. I wasn’t close with any of my teachers, and in college, I kept to myself for the most part. I only had one real friend, and Sean had ruined that relationship. God, I was fucking boring.

But what would I want to do? Now, it seemed, I had nothing but time, and I got the feeling that Lady Cora would let me chase any dream I might have. I passed by the cafe I had visited, and came to a stop. The same woman was inside, the same bright expression on her face, the same clothes. It didn’t make sense to me that Lady Cora would be so invested in a sense of justice while allowing the good people in her realm to become husks of what they once were. Did she know? She had to. Nothing down here existed without her. Even if the brothers took care of the day-to-day minutiae of Underworld operations, she shaped reality itself.

But maybe I was wrong, and the woman was an outlier. I hadn’t spoken with many souls yet, and it was very possible that I was jumping to conclusions without any real basis. Then I remembered the young girl, Anna. She hadn’t remembered meeting me. It could be nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I recalled how good the coffee had been. I guess it was worth another shot .

The door jingled as I entered, and the barista gave me a little wave. I slid into a seat near the counter. “Hi!”

“Welcome in!” she replied. “We have some great new pastries in today!”

I glanced at the pastry case and spotted an eclair that made my mouth water immediately. “Ooooh! Let me get that eclair and an iced raspberry white mocha!” I searched her eyes for any sign of recollection, but found only the kind smile of someone who enjoyed customer service. She got to work on my drink and I scanned the cafe patrons, curious if the man and woman from before were repeat customers. The man was absent, but the same woman sat in the same seat, still writing. Feeling emboldened, I rose and walked over to her table. “Hi there,” I said in greeting. “I saw you last time I was here. Are you a writer?”

The woman looked up at me, her eyes a bright hazel ringed in gold. “Oh, hello.” Her attention wavered between me and her notebook, and I fought the urge to lean in and snoop.

There was an awkward pause in which I waited for her to answer my question, but when she didn’t, I went on. “I used to write a lot in college, and recently was thinking about maybe starting up again! What are you working on?”

She glanced down again and back up and unease began to prickle my skin. Was she like the barista? Did she even know what she was writing?

“It's… um… well, it's a romance,” she murmured, somewhat bashfully. “It’s a little spicy.”

I let loose a little squeal and slid into the seat across from her. “Tell me everything!”

She laughed, and her olive cheeks darkened to a deep rosy shade as she dipped her head and hid behind her salt and pepper curls. “Um, it’s about a woman who meets a man at a restaurant. Except she never really meets him, she’s too shy. Instead, she has wild dreams of a future between them. But little does she know, she’s a long-lost fae royal, and has the power to turn dreams into reality!”

We fell into easy conversation while I waited for my treats. The barista brought me a small plate with the eclair and some raspberries, and my drink looked divine—thick red syrup drizzled down the sides of the glass and a big dollop of whipped cream. As I sipped and snacked, I learned the woman’s name was Eva, and she had been sixty-six when she came to the Underworld. She had been an English professor and loved Earl Grey tea. She didn’t mention her death, and I didn’t pry—unsure what amount of understanding the souls here retained after passing on. I felt a pang of sadness, realizing this is how my mother and I could have been, had she not died, and I wondered where she was, and if Lady Cora would tell me.

“It was lovely to meet you, Eva,” I said. I meant it, and definitely planned to return to the cafe another day to hopefully get a chance to meet the man I was now certain she was writing about.

Bringing my empty plate and glass up to the counter, I put a hand to my stomach dramatically. “That eclair was divine!” The barista beamed with pride. “Last time I was in, I thought that was the best coffee ever, but you proved me wrong!” I watched her face carefully, hoping she’d give some indication she remembered, but she just smiled. I pressed on. “Did you remember your name tag this time? I never did get your name.”

She looked down and reached for my dishes. “It’s been a long day.” With an awkward laugh, she turned, heading to the back.

I reached for her without thinking—not wanting her to leave without giving me some sort of answer. When my fingers wrapped around her wrist, she jerked backward like my touch had burned her. There was terror in her eyes, and guilt washed over me. The last thing I wanted to do was cause these souls harm. “I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, releasing my grasp. “I just?—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she stammered. “I just need to get these cleaned up. Can I get you anything else?” She avoided my gaze.

“No,” I said quietly.