Page 31 of Holy Water
She sat beside me and offered Percy a serene smile.“A glass of Lotus Bloom Rosé, please.Chilled.”
Percy barked a laugh.“You want me to decant it into a mason jar and bless it under a waning moon while I’m at it?”
Zephyr smiled without blinking.“If it helps the bouquet, sure.”
I stared into my drink.“You don’t usually drink here.”
“No,” she said, accepting the wine with both hands like it was an offering.“But I felt a disturbance in the force.”
Percy snorted.“That handsome city boy drove our Jude to drink.”
Zephyr sipped.“I suspected as much.”
I groaned and put my face in my hands.“I am not talking about this.”
“You just did,” Percy said, leaning his elbows on the bar.“That’s what we in the biz call an opening.”
“He’s been like this since that night,” Zephyr added gently.“Julian comes along, throws a wrench into the cosmic gears, and you’ve been all off-axis ever since.”
“I don’t even know what happened,” I said, finally lifting my head.“One second we were talking.Next, he was kissing me like the world was ending.”
“Hot,” Percy deadpanned.
I ignored him.“I stopped it because I couldn’t… I wanted to.God, I wanted to.But I could tell he wasn’t present.Not really.It was like he was trying to distract himself from something.”
Zephyr nodded slowly.“Pain.I saw it in his eyes, too.Behind all that sarcasm and irony.Like he’s carrying around a wound he won’t admit is bleeding.”
“Exactly.”I pushed the bourbon aside.“I don’t want that.I mean, I want him, but not like that.Sex isn’t enjoyable to me unless there’s something real underneath.Something steady.I need to trust.To connect.”
Percy made a mock gagging noise.“Gross.Feelings.”
Zephyr scowled at him.
I stared at the back bar, at the shelves of bottles sparkling in the dim light.“And I think he took it the wrong way.Thought I was rejecting him.And then he left.”
“Without a word,” Zephyr said.“He returned to the inn, grabbed his things and hauled ass out of there.”She set down her glass.“Maybe he needs time to realize what you were offering.Maybe he wasn’t ready for something real.”
I dragged both hands through my hair and let out a long, low breath.“Why do I care so much?We barely knew each other.”
“Sometimes,” Zephyr said, “souls recognize each other before minds do.”
Zephyr reached into the canvas tote slung over her shoulder and pulled out a faded velvet pouch.She laid it delicately on the bar between us and began untying the cords with slow, deliberate fingers.
“Oh no,” Percy muttered, eyeing the pouch like it might contain snakes.“This is about to get weird.”
Zephyr smiled beatifically.“Only if you’re allergic to the truth.”She drew the deck out—large, well-worn cards, the gilding on the edges dulled by years of touch—and held them out to me.“Shuffle.Think of a question.”
I blinked at her, a little glassy-eyed, then looked down at the cards in my hands.They felt heavier than they should’ve.The backs were indigo and gold, covered in constellations.
“Zeph, come on,” I said, but there was no bite in my tone.Just weariness.“I’m three bourbons deep and five seconds from crying in public.”
“Exactly the right headspace for a reading,” she breathed.“Let your subconscious steer.”
I hesitated.Then, with a huff, I started to shuffle.The cards slipped between my fingers like silk, but not easily.They caught now and then, almost like they knew I wasn’t ready.
“Think of a question,” she prompted again.
So I did.
