Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Weak sunlight streamed through the small gaps in the blue tarp covering the windows. As soon as it touched Marisol’s face, she turned to her other side, running away from the intrusion.
It was one sluggish heartbeat before her eyes sprang open. Shame, hot and suffocating, flooded her system as soon as she registered her surroundings. She’d fallen asleep in Zuri’s bed.
Alone and disoriented and drowning in embarrassment, Marisol cringed with her whole body. It hadn’t been a fever dream. She’d actually made a fool of herself in front of two women who’d probably never looked stupid in their lives.
Deciding that she might as well deal with reality head on, she rolled out of Zuri’s shockingly comfortable bed. A bed in which she’d slept like an actual corpse. A bed that Zuri hadn’t slept in because she was on the floor using the pillow and blanket combo. A combo that Marisol knew sucked and was nearly impossible to rest on.
In the chair a few feet from Zuri, Elena’s head was tipped back and her arms were crossed over her chest. They’d both been uncomfortable all night while she’d slept in a huge bed by herself like the freaking Princess of Monaco.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Marisol tiptoed to the kitchen. She needed to be useful. To make up for having subjected these strangers to the mess inside her head. She shouldn’t be here at all, she decided. She was the one-too-many. If Elena and Zuri were alone, there was no doubt they’d be sharing a bed.
In the fridge, there was almost nothing other than condiments and a few things Zuri had brought in from her greenhouse. Remembering the chickens outside, Marisol prepared the percolator for Cuban espresso and set it on the very edge of the burner on the stove.
The old school coffee maker reminded her of her grandmother. Of how proud Marisol had been when her grandmother asked her to make cafecito for guests when she was a kid. She’d always make a big deal about how Marisol made it even better than she did. It was a lie, but it always made Marisol feel like a rockstar.
What she wouldn’t give to go back to such simple times. To the days of feeling like she knew exactly where she belonged. When there was nothing to be afraid of except pop quizzes and whether she’d make the swim team.
She slipped out the back door, unprepared for the bright morning. With Zuri’s gorgeous windows covered, it was like they were living in a cave. As if the situation wasn’t already disorienting enough, now her internal clock didn’t even know the time.
As soon as she arrived at the huge, shaded coop near the house, Marisol found the fault in her plan. What the hell did she know about picking eggs? What if she took one with a chick in it? The notion was horrifying and made Marisol consider going from vegetarian to full vegan.
She’d left her dead cell phone inside the house and couldn’t even consult the internet for help. So freaking useless. She shut her eyes tight and decided maybe she could feed the chickens, since she couldn’t feed her host.
In the little barn, she was relieved to find the chicken feed that Zuri apparently made herself. She’d do something at least.
“Good morning, ladies,” Marisol said because she was losing her mind. As soon as she opened the door, a handful of little brown hens wandered out. The rest stayed in their roosts.
Talking to them in a soft, low voice so they wouldn’t be scared of her, she cleaned out their water containers before refilling them. She was outside and tossing handfuls of feed to the hens pecking at the ground a few feet from the coop when Zuri’s voice made her jump.
“Oh, shit! You let them out!” Zuri was rushing toward her in a blur.
Heart leaping into her throat, Marisol dropped the feed on the ground and ran toward the hens who predictably squawked and fled from her. “I’m sorry! I thought?—”
“I’m just fucking with you,” Zuri replied with a delighted laugh, a mismatched espresso cup in each hand.
Hand to her pounding heart, Marisol closed her eyes to catch her breath.
“Here. Drink the coffee you left on my stove and thankfully didn’t burn my house down with.” Zuri handed her one of the small cups.
Marisol had never felt so incompetent in her life. “I was coming right back.” She met Zuri’s dark eyes. “I just wanted to grab some eggs to apologize for stealing your bed, and then I realized that I didn’t know how?—”
“Don’t be a martyr about it, Bambi.” Zuri took a sip of the espresso, expression too relaxed for someone who’d been accused of attempted murder the night before. “My back pain will forgive you eventually.”
Had she and Elena made up? Images of Zuri and Elena exchanging breathless apologies while they kissed and clung to each other punched her in the gut. As if she needed another reminder that she didn’t fit in there. That she’d never fit in anywhere again.
Knocking back the very hot and perfectly sweetened coffee like it was laced with courage, Marisol made a decision at the same time her burnt lips started moving.
“I’m going to leave,” she said, gaze drifting from Zuri because she was too intimidating to look at directly. “I don’t belong here.” She forced herself to look at her again so Zuri would believe her when she said, “I’m not trying to steal your girlfriend or be the third wheel.”
Zuri sipped her coffee, expression completely unreadable. She was so quiet for so long that Marisol lost touch with her body. She was nothing but a pounding heart and seared tongue sticking to the roof of her obliterated mouth.
“Whatever you and Elena have going on is fully none of my business. We’re absolutely, under no uncertain terms, never getting back together,” Zuri said without blinking. “As to leaving…” She shrugged. “You’re not a prisoner here, Bambi. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
At Zuri’s unexpected response, Marisol stepped back. There was something in Zuri’s tone that wasn’t matching her words. She hadn’t figured out the disconnect before Zuri finished her coffee and palmed the small cup.
“You haven’t asked me for my opinion, and despite the misconception that I’m a bossy bitch, I tend to keep my nose on my face and out of people’s messes.” Her expression didn’t exactly soften, but something in her energy did. “There’s so much you don’t know, and I don’t know where to begin to explain. It’s like that movie where the caveman defrosts and wakes up in modern times. There’s more shit than time, but I can promise you you’re safe here.” She paused, attention darting toward the far-off gate obscured by trees. “I can’t promise you that you’ll be safe out there. Whoever the hell sent that goon is probably very curious about whatever you’ve got going on.” She repeated the gesture of outlining wings with her hands. “And one thing that witches and vampires get right is the importance of keeping a pack. We’re only as strong as the people watching our backs.”
Fear and worry swirled in her belly like a disorienting mass. “You think there’s more than just that one vampire?”
Zuri nodded. “Never tell her I said this or you’re dead to me, but Elena is a big fucking deal. Someone took a huge swing by trying to take her out. It’s not going to be one ineffectual loser who ran off and left us alive. Plus, this thing with her healing.” She shook her head, brows drawn together in worry. “There’s something deeper going on here.”
Picking through what Zuri had said, Marisol posed another question while a hen picked at a flower by her foot. “Why aren’t the witches in your coven here? If what you said is true about strength in numbers, why not have them here as backup instead of a broken vampire and question mark nurse?”
Zuri’s full lips pulled into a smile that disappeared almost immediately when she responded to the serious part of her question. “I know my coven would never be involved in this, but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t try to exploit the situation. I don’t want anyone to know Elena is weak. Despite all their talk of detente, vampires can be ruthless.”
Marisol was going to ask her to tell her more, to start somewhere and just start talking, but Zuri’s expression changed like an idea had struck her like lightning.
“You’re not totally a question mark,” she said, eyes bright. “You’re obviously a healer. What if we gave Elena your blood? There could be something in your actual blood that’ll help, and I can’t imagine it will make things worse.”
Marisol’s skin turned icy despite the hot, humid morning. She’d been so ready to let Elena take whatever the hell she wanted when they were in the hospital, but in the light of day and with so much already in turmoil, she wasn’t sure she could do it.
“She’s not going to bite you,” Zuri assured her, even though Marisol wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she was afraid of. Her medical curiosity wanted to be bitten, to understand how it worked, but she was too embarrassed to ask.
“Okay,” Marisol agreed, unsure of what awaited her inside. “Why not?”
Zuri’s expression flashed with something unreadable, making Marisol’s stomach clench. “It’s a lot easier to stay in control without the bite.”
As they started for the house, Marisol’s anticipation pounded in her chest. An image of Elena tearing her neck like an animal made her knees weak and pace slow. What the heck was she about to get herself into?