Page 42 of Blood from the Marrow
A hand on her back, soft and warm, eased Zuri out of a stress dream. She’d been standing in front of her high school biology class, ambushed by a presentation she hadn’t known about—much less prepared for. A presentation that determined whether she passed or failed and all Zuri could remember was that mitochondria were the powerhouses of the cell. Information she certainly needed at crucial moments.
“Hey, we’re almost there.” Marisol’s voice was so soft against the shell of Zuri’s ear. Her lips even softer against the curve of her cheek.
Zuri reached back, pulling Marisol fully on top of her like a weighted blanket. She wanted to stay there like Schrödinger’s Zuri, both having survived this risk and never having left Miami. That’s how that worked, right? If she never opened her eyes. Never moved. All possibilities could exist at once. They could live in suspended safety if they never moved.
“You okay?” Marisol squeezed her tight like she understood what she wanted. What she needed. “This is going to be okay,” she said, even though she couldn’t possibly know.
Guilt rose in Zuri’s throat. She was the one who should be reassuring Marisol. Making her feel safe. Instead, she was perilously close to being in the fetal position and telling the pilotnot to land. To never land. To keep flying until they reached the end of civilization. Until she could take a complete breath again.
“We’re so close to having a plan,” Marisol muttered, nuzzling into her neck. “We’re going to get through this.”
Zuri squeezed her closed eyes until she saw a million silvery points of light. Until she subdued the tears she never said could form.
“When the fuck did you get so brave, Bambi?” Her voice was too thin. Too weighed down with her own fear.
Marisol kissed her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck. Zuri’s stupid body had apparently forgotten about being in danger, and her skin heated under Marisol’s attention. Her useless heart raced when her warm breath fluttered over her shoulder.
“I think…” She tugged aside the collar of Zuri’s T-shirt. “When we get back home...” She slipped off Zuri and slid in behind her, hooking an arm around her waist. “We should remind ourselves of all the things worth fighting for.” She grabbed Zuri’s breast over her clothes in a shockingly possessive move.
Zuri groaned, the muted contact setting fire to her skin beneath the fabric. Her nipples hardened like they’d been aching for Marisol’s touch. Her attention.
“What about it always being me and Elena?” she teased, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning while Marisol touched her. “Every time,” she added, embarrassingly breathless.
“Maybe I’ll make her watch,” she groaned, sinking her teeth into Zuri’s skin and rocking her hips into Zuri’s ass.
Zuri arched her back out of reflex. She urged Marisol to grind into her. Immediately, they were moving in the same rhythm as if Marisol were wearing something other than clothes.
“Come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner I can get you home.” Marisol ran her hand along Zuri’s side, following the curve of her hip before slapping her ass hard.
Zuri gasped in surprise, heat rushing through her body in a way she was sure she’d never feel again. “You’re fucking diabolical, Bambi.”
Marisol smiled against the back of her neck before whispering, “I know.”
Well, there’s one way to wake up, Zuri thought with a smirk when Marisol was gone. When the plane had landed, Zuri rolled out of bed with her underwear sticking to her body. She took a deep breath and prepared to meet what was next.
The first and last time she’d been in Venice, the only thing Zuri feared was falling in love. She’d been too late then.
Zuri’s attention floated to Elena climbing into the waiting Mercedes-Benz van, her dark hair pulled back in a severe knot, skin flawless and sharp beneath the streetlights. If Zuri didn’t know her, she’d never guess Elena had just spent endless days unraveling.
Zuri’s heart was a squeezed fist, punching the inside of her chest. She hadn’t stood a chance the second time either.
Mercifully, Elena, like Zuri, wanted to get the cult visit over with quickly. Instead of going first to her villa in the heart of the city, they were getting right to it.
When they left the mainland airport and exited the van near the docks, Zuri inhaled the salt and brine and diesel that wafted through the night. There was always magic in the stones of old cities. It called to Zuri and her warming blood answered, even if they didn’t speak the same language.
“This is so beautiful,” Marisol whispered while they stood at the dock and waited for Librada to return with their ride.
Zuri wished they had time for Elena to take them around the endless labyrinth of canals and waterways. To show them thehundreds of bridges in the city of islands. She didn’t let herself remember the moonless night she and Elena had spent drifting over calm waters, talking and laughing, blissfully unaware of all the bullshit that would come for them.
Librada arrived in a sleek speedboat, its dark, polished wood gleaming. Elena stepped forward, one foot on the boat’s bobbing ledge and the other at the end of the dock. Barely looking at her, like she was afraid to stare into the sun—afraid that the light would burn rather than purify—Elena gripped Marisol by the waist and deposited her in the boat.
When it was Zuri’s turn, she straightened, stomach tight. “We’re not fucking cargo,” she said, forcing Elena to look at her instead of just reaching out blindly.
When Elena glanced up, Zuri realized her mistake. Elena could polish up the outside, but she couldn’t hide the pain and exhaustion in her eyes. There it was, swimming beneath the surface like a mythical monster trying to swallow Elena whole. Its horrifying maw wide enough to take everyone who loved her into its acidic pit of a stomach.
“We must go,” Librada said, extending her own hand to help Zuri get on the rocking boat without slipping.
And just like that, Elena was gone. Retreated inside herself like they’d never left the penthouse. Zuri’s soul ached from her absence, but she shoved it down and got on the fucking boat.
