Page 7 of Spelled By Truth and Tresses

In my dream that night, as always, the man was there, but this time the shadows didn’t conceal him from me. Instead, he stood with his back to me and stared down at a silver chalice. Surrounding it were candles.

I reached out to touch his shoulder and, to my surprise; he didn’t disappear. “Who are you?”

I stumbled backwards, and my heart raced as I steadied myself. “Jax?” I asked cautiously. Ridges of thick, pink scars covered the right side of his face, textured with pockmarks. A deep gouge replaced the socket where his left eye should have been, its edges jagged and black. I raised my hand toward his face, but then curled my fingers into my palm and lowered my arm to my side. Something about this version of Jax was more dangerous than normal.

“What happened to you?”

“It’s your dream,” he answered, but his voice held no inflection. “You tell me?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. We really were sharing dreams, or at least, having dreams of each other. It could’ve just been our conversation earlier that made me dream of him. “Is this real?” I asked, and as soon as the question left my lips, the room spun like a vortex and my chest heaved.

I jolted upward in bed and looked around frantically. I rubbed my temples and took a moment to calm myself down.

On the nightstand, Jax’s number sat crumpled. I grabbed it and typed the number into my phone. Hesitantly, I typed a message. What was I supposed to say to him?

Hey, Jax. I had a dream about you.

I deleted it, not wanting to admit he was right. Also, I couldn’t be sure if the dream was just because he’d planted the thoughts in my mind yesterday.

Fine. We can talk–Zellie, from the academy.

Ugh. I needed coffee desperately. Sometimes when I was in deep relaxation, the strange place between awake and asleep, I felt like the world was spinning so fast around me and my brain was locked within the swirling winds of a tornado.

I jumped, my hand flying to my chest. Lalita walked over and sat on my bed. The soft beach waves styled into her hair glowed with health. “Morning. I brought coffee.”

I raised a brow at her. “Letting yourself in the house again?” I joked, then yawned.

We sat in silence for a few moments and drank our coffees. My belly warmed with each sip I took. I leaned my head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight my mother when she banned you from the house this summer. I was barely surviving and living under her roof again made everything so much fucking worse. I…I should have known better than to fall for her manipulations.”

She huffed and rubbed her hand over my foot on top of the covers. “Oh, Z. I wish you’d just spoken to me. Anything would have done. Look, I’m here for you. I know everything feels a bit broken, but you’re my best friend. We’ve known each other our entire lives. You’re like my sister.”

My chest tightened. “Shit. I fucking missed you, L.”

I didn’t even realize I could still care. I told myself it was a good thing.

“Same. I just couldn’t feel anything for the longest time.”

Her expression set into a frown. “What do you mean?”

I swallowed hard. “Nothing. It’s just been a weird couple of months.

She pinched my pinky toe, then stood. “You can tell me more about it on the way to the academy.” Cool air washed over me as she tugged the blanket off me. “Come on, get up.”

I shook my head. “I really don’t want to face everyone again today. It was bad enough doing it yesterday.”

She rolled her expressive brown eyes. “Put your war paint on and let’s go face them!”

I half-smiled. I eyed my bat and spider web print makeup bag and sighed. “Fine.”

“I’ll go distract your mother while you get ready.”

My golden hair was so thick and long it was difficult to style. As always, I separated it into three sections and braided each before weaving each part into one thick mass. At least with it contained like this, it only brushed my lower back and not the floor.

I turned to my makeup bag, pulling out my black lipstick.

“Hurry!” Lalita shouted up the stairs.

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