Elena tipped her head to the side, watching Marisol. Studying her with endless interest. “Markedly different things. If I wanted it dead, it would be dead.”
“Just like that?” Marisol drifted closer to Elena. She wanted to turn away. To tell her she didn’t believe in killing anything.
“Does that scare you?” Elena’s voice was dripping with every dirty thought Marisol had ever had. She was the fingers she slipped into her underwear when she just couldn’t find any other way to sleep. The darkest fantasies Marisol would never let out of the confines of mind. “DoIscare you?”
“No,” she lied, because she couldn’t explain exactly what was triggering her heart to race against her rib cage.
“Are you sure?” Elena beckoned her closer with nothing but a look and the way she parted her legs, inviting Marisol to straddle them again.
Holding her breath, Marisol had to tell herself that it was stupid to kiss her again. That despite how very much she wanted to taste her, she shouldn’t. Right? No. She definitely shouldn’t. It had been reckless once and insane twice. God, why did she want to?
The back door in the kitchen opened, stopping Marisol’s terrible judgment from gaining traction.
“Come on, Bambi,” Zuri said, pulling Marisol back to her body. “I have an idea.”
Eager not to make a mistake, Marisol followed Zuri out of the house, her gaze lingering on Zuri’s curves while she walked fast in front of her.
Really? Out of the frying pain and desperate to find the fire?
She forced herself to look away from her, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun and looking at a tree in the distance. There was no way she was going to let herself think about Zuri’s lips on her neck, or how good her arm felt around her. Nope.
They walked in silence, the crunch of gravel beneath their feet the only noise. Zuri led her to a small clearing under ancient oak trees, where sunlight dappled the earth. A tiny man-made pond lay still, its dark water filled with plants.
“This is one place that helps me feel closest to my power,” Zuri said before producing a tartan blanket Marisol hadn’tnoticed. “Water and life together are kind of my thing,” she added, eyes avoiding Marisol’s in a way that made her regret having pulled her closer.
Accepting that she couldn’t change what had happened that morning, she took a deep breath and tried to be present. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine, a calming fragrance that eased the tension in her shoulders.
Zuri sat and gestured for Marisol to sit across from her. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to explain it,” she said, her brow furrowed in concentration. “How I access people’s memories. It’s not like reading a book, more like... projecting myself into their minds. Becoming a part of their experience.”
Marisol nodded and wished she understood. “Maybe if you can put it into words? I can try to follow?”
“Imagine a golden thread,” Zuri said, her voice low and steady.
Closing her eyes, she visualized Elena broken and unconscious in the hospital. Tried to remember every detail from the trauma room.
“A thread that connects me to the person whose memories I want to access. I reach out with my mind, feel for that thread, and gently pull it towards me.”
Trying to follow her instructions, she imagined a thread, shimmering with light, extending from her hands when she approached Elena. Let it mix with how badly she’d wanted her to wake up. To give her a chance.
Marisol’s heart strained against her chest, her stomach tight and muscles tense. She reached out, her pulse pounding behind her eyes. She tried so hard she forgot to breathe, but she felt nothing. No connection, no spark, no thread.
She opened her eyes, disappointment dropping her shoulders. “I don’t feel anything,” she admitted, letting her irritation show.
Zuri nodded, her expression surprisingly understanding. “It takes practice.”
They tried again, and again, but Marisol couldn’t summon her power at will. The frustration gnawed at her, making her feel inept and useless.
As the afternoon wore on, Zuri’s patience waned. “Let’s take a break,” she said before standing. She didn’t wait for Marisol to agree before she was already walking away.
Marisol laid back on the blanket instead of following her. Eyes closed, she cried on her own so that Zuri didn’t have to be subjected to her failureandher emotions.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Inside,Zuri chugged a glass of water before refilling the filtered pitcher. It was so fucking hot outside and she was exhausted and angry at her inability to show Bambi the simplest thing. How did she expect to run a fucking coven if she couldn’t even do this?
“I’m going to start taking it personally that you’re having all the fun out there without me,” Elena said from the armchair she’d been in all day. A different book she wasn’t reading sat in her lap.
She poured another glass of water and put it in the freezer to hurry up the cooling process. When she stepped into the main room, Elena was looking up at her with so much fucking amusement painted on her face.