Page 43 of The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck

“Nope.”

She cocks her head. “Are you two involved in a more than friendly way, by any chance, and you forgot to tell me?”

“Still just friends.”

“But you almost crashed into him the day after Willow told you about being soulmates. The timing is amazing.” Rebecca blows out a breath. “Though I refuse to believe that any of it’s real. That these predictions are anything more than uncanny nonsense. It’s important to keep a grip on reality.”

“I honestly have no idea anymore.”

“Which of the wish-list items can I do with you?”

I instantly perk up. “Which ones would you like to do?”

The bedroom door swings open, and Lady Helena appears with her cell pressed to her ear. “Sweetheart, I’m guessing you’re probably not comfortable with casual nudity?”

“Um. No. Not really.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve had your tits out on a beach in Europe. Such a feeling of liberation. Just don’t forget the sunscreen. I suppose whatever swimwear you have will do for tonight,” she says before returning to her call. “We’re going to need lavender for purity, rosemary for cleansing, lemon balm for healing, and cedar for protection. And I want a big-ass chunk of clear quartz, Dougal. The biggest you can get.” She disappears back into my bedroom and slams the door closed. What is it with this family and slamming doors?

“This should be interesting,” says Rebecca. “Are you sure you’re up for being spiritually cleansed by Her Ladyship?”

“That’s a really good question.”

A hint of a smile curves the corner of her mouth. “I asked her earlier if I could call her Helena. You should have seen the look on her face. She was horrified.”

No idea which of us started giggling first. And I’m not even entirely sure what we’re giggling about. But neither of us stop for a good long time.

When I tried to envision what Lady Helena might be planning, standing in my shower in a bikini while Her Ladyship used a pump-action water pistol to spray me with a combination of essential oils wasn’t one of them. Not even close. Same goes for having Himalayan salt thrown at me intermittently. The way it stings when she accidentally gets me in the eye. I don’t start to lose my temper, however, until I stub my toe for the third time on the boulder-size chunk of quartz sitting on the shower floor.

“Motherfucker,” I cry.

“Focus, sweetheart. You’ve got to say the mantra,” says Lady Helena. “Repeat after me: I am whole. I am healthy. I am calm. Or reasonably calm, at least.”

Rebecca leans against the bathroom counter. “I’m pretty sure calm left the building a while back.”

“Aye. So did common sense,” mutters Dougal, standing in the bathroom doorway. Like I need an audience for this event. He scratches at his gray beard and says, “Perhaps I should give the lad a call.”

“Absolutely not, Dougal.” Lady Helena turns the Super Soaker on the man with a warning look. “You know Alistair doesn’t believe in any of this. He’ll just be in the way. I know what’s best for Lilah in this particular situation.”

Dougal mutters something beneath his breath.

Lady Helena turns back to me and lets loose with a jet of liquid. It gets me right in the left breast and hurts like hell. Trusting Her Ladyship with such a powerful water pistol was a mistake. One of several I may have made regarding her tonight.

I cover my chest with my arms. “Ouch. Not the boobs.”

“Sorry, sweetie. Turn around and I’ll do your back.”

“I think we’re finished,” I say, pushing my damp and oily hair out of my face. My eyes are still stinging and watering and yeah. “Thank you for trying to help, but I’ve had enough.”

“Oh.” Lady Helena’s face falls. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you. I really appreciate you going to so much trouble. But yes.”

“All right, then.”

“Eighteen minutes of water torture isn’t bad,” says Dougal. “Good effort, lass.”

I give him a thumbs-up.

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