Page 31 of For Love and Blood and Fury

Zuri’s dark eyebrows flew up her forehead. The universal sign foroh, you think that’s funny?“She’s two hundred and ninety-two.” She revealed in a way that sounded like a dig at Elena.

Dropping her smile but not her amused energy, Elena shrugged. “But I’ll never look a day over twenty-eight.”

Openly annoyed with Elena, Zuri stood. She cleared Marisol’s empty plate before Marisol registered her movements.

Suddenly exhausted and unsure of what to do with herself without the distraction of eating, Marisol’s gaze darted between Elena and Zuri.

What the hell happens now?

Chapter Twenty

Sleep had beenfitful and full of nightmares. All night, Zuri had relived the attack in the hospital. In her memory, the vampire’s face was massive and distorted by rage. His mouth was open abnormally wide. His jaw unhinged to swallow her whole like some mutant anaconda.

The moment the sky turned the barest pink before full sunrise, she was out of bed. Eager to get away from the shadows and lingering memories. While tiptoeing toward her small bathroom, Zuri almost felt bad for making Elena sleep in the closet.

She didn’t need stupid vampire senses to know the change in her house bothered Elena. But what had she expected? Their breakup had been irrevocably final.

Did she think Zuri would keep that damn window tinting forever? Did she want Zuri to think of her every time she took half her plants outside to get enough light? Inconvenience herself until she died?

While she brushed her teeth quietly, she decided that Elena probably wanted that. She probably thought Zuri would spend the rest of her mortal life pinning after her… Or maybe shehoped Zuri would change her mind. Rinsing her mouth, she decided even Elena wasn’t that delusional.

On her way out of the bathroom, Zuri avoided the parts of her wood floor that creaked. When she hit one inadvertently, she froze, attention turning to the lump on the floor. In the pale light only starting to illuminate the house, Marisol was a small, pathetic bundle under Zuri’s extra quilt.

She shouldn’t feel bad, she told herself. It wasn’t her fault that Elena couldn’t stop complicating her life, even with retrograde amnesia or whatever the hell was going on with her. It was Elena’s fault that there were one too many in the house. Was she supposed to share her bed with a stranger just because Elena had picked up a stray?

Zuri’s pain-free back tugged at her guilt. The bed was more than big enough for both of them, but that shouldn’t matter, she decided before pulling on her boots and slipping outside. None of this was her responsibility. Elena could whittle Bambi a bed out of sticks if she felt so strongly about it.

In the early morning, the mosquitos followed her while she went to check on her chickens first. From the small barn, she grabbed a bucket of homemade chicken feed. It was full of ingredients she harvested herself to make sure they were really organic.

By the time she finished cleaning, laying down new straw, and refilling the water containers, the sun was well and truly up. Despite being ready for a shower, Zuri decided to reinforce the wards around the property even if she didn’t have the extra power of the full moon.

Zuri had no reason to think they had been damaged, but she hadn’t prepared them to defend against an invading army. Without knowing who was looking for them, she couldn’t take any chances.

Instead of using the golf cart hooked up to the plug on the side of the house, Zuri walked up the gravel path to the huge greenhouse in a clearing surrounded by small citrus plants. For the first time, she wondered whether she should have insisted on taking Loba and Luna with her. She hadn’t seen the dogs when she was in Elena’s place, she realized belatedly.

A pit opened in her stomach. When she and Elena were together, the dogs loved being on the farm. They’d accompany Zuri on her chores and refused to sleep anywhere but next to the chicken coop at night, as if they understood that the dozen hens and one small but valiant rooster needed protecting.

Convincing herself that the viper’s nest would never harm the dogs, and trying not to wonder whether Elena’s most trusted had anything to do with the attack, Zuri opened the glass door to the greenhouse.

In the space most sacred to her, Zuri took a deep breath. The humid air of the greenhouse, thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine, welcomed her home. Weak sunlight streamed through the glass panels, illuminating rows of lush plants and fragrant herbs.

She moved with purpose, collecting first a handful of rich, dark soil from a pot of newly sprouted basil. The earth would ground her wards, anchoring them to the land and providing a sense of stability and concealment. She whispered a prayer to the earth, asking for its strength and protection.

Next, she moved to a rain barrel nestled near the back of the greenhouse, its surface shimmering with the reflection of the morning sun. She dipped a small clay bowl into the water, collecting the liquid that would imbue her wards with fluidity and adaptability, allowing them to shift and change as needed. She invoked the power of water, asking for cleansing and protection.

From a shelf near the entrance, she retrieved a small, fire-resistant bowl and a box of matches. She struck a match and dropped it on a small pile of dried rosemary and sage. The pungent aroma filled the air, chasing away any lingering negativity. Fire brought purification and strength, burning away the darkness. She whispered a prayer to the fire, thanking it.

Armed with what she needed, she set out to check the wards she had positioned at each cardinal point on the grounds. She hummed into the breeze, knowing it would carry her intentions, weaving them into the fabric of her wards. Even if it wasn’t her element, she whispered a prayer to the wind, asking it for clarity.

“Good morning.”

“Jesus!” Zuri cursed when she nearly dropped the heavy burlap sack.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you saw me.” Bambi charged toward her, a mug in each hand. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

In the morning light, Marisol’s eyes were the greenish brown of mystical forests. Her face was even more dangerously pretty and dripping with an earnest concern Zuri didn’t want to see.

“I, um, made you coffee.” When Marisol’s cheeks flushed bright pink, the mossy green around her pupils ignited and made her freckles appear to multiply. “I thought maybe you didn’t make any because I was sleeping, and?—”

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