Chapter 16
MONROE
Fortunately, I didn’t get lost on my way to the Radix Headquarters.
It’s smack dab in the center of The Nest, twice as tall as any of the cottage-style mansions in the burrow.
Bunny topiaries hop in a zig-zag between beds of vibrant flowers leading up the stone path toward its entrance.
A large basket sits to the left, piled with shoes.
I frown at it and then continue on, my heels clacking against the raised wooden floor.
Squares of dirt are carved into the floor, a few budding with greenery.
Not sure what they are for, but from the small wrought iron fences set around them, it looks as though they are not meant to be touched.
Equally spread along the walls are rose-gold frames, green vines wrapped around them.
They hang from oversized dowels piercing the creamy floral wallpaper, and in each one is a photo of Florezca’s Radixes.
I recognize my instructors immediately, refusing to linger over Briar’s picture despite wanting to.
There’s an obnoxious curiosity to search for any semblance of him being the soft and sweet Sir Thumps-A-Lot I looked forward to coming home to before my death.
Flicking my gaze away, I land on another face I recognize, squinting because…
Surely there must be some mistake…
Feet shuffle across the wood, and I spin, finding the same face staring back at me. “Dani?”
“Welcome, Monroe,” my classmate says, lips pursed. “Though around here, it’s better to refer to me as Radix Daneel.”
“Well, isn’t this perfect,” I groan.
Of course they’d be the one I need to go to when shit hits the fan. This day couldn’t get any worse.
Dani cocks their head. “What do you need help with?”
Despite their words, there’s no genuine concern. If anything, they’re amused by my plight.
Asshole.
“I’d like to speak with a Radix.” Anyone but you. I resist scratching the fresh ink between my breasts, and take a deep breath. “Unless you’re able to help me get in touch with Fate.”
“No can do.” Dani shakes their head and tugs the lapels of their leather jacket, their green-gray gaze flitting toward the wall. “Unfortunately, I’m on a bit of a sabbatical.”
Interesting. My curiosity is piqued but not more than the pressing need to fix this whole mate situation. “In that case, are any others here?”
“Yes.” They nod down the hall where a pair of large double doors are shut. “But they’re in a meeting right now.”
“How long will they be?”
Dani shrugs. “No clue. Got somewhere better to be?”
“Not really.” I click-clack over to a bench in the corner, and Dani winces with each strike of my heel against the wood. The corner of my lip lifts. At least something’s satisfying right now. Plopping down, I cross my arms and wait.
With a pronounced roll of their eyes, the James Dean–wannabe Bloom saunters behind the desk on the opposite side of the room.
Minutes pass. I stop myself from scratching a few times, unsure how tattoo-like this inked mark is on my skin.
For some reason, the only thing worse than having it for eternity is the idea of screwing up the artistry. Hopefully, that won’t be an issue.
I just need to make Fate understand.
In the meantime, if Dani’s pretending to ignore me like they’ve got better things to do, I’m happy to fill the silence. “You know, the whole class asshole thing got old in my lifetime. What is your deal?”
Twin gray-green irises snap up in my direction. “Excuse me?”
“You goof off in class like you don’t even care.”
“I don’t.” They lift their chin, mulberry strands tossed back for a zero fucks emphasis.
“Then why are you at the Conservatory?”
“Believe me, it’s not by choice.” They press their palms onto the desk like they’re about to push up and stand. “I’d literally rather be anywhere else.”
“Guess that’s something we can both agree on.” I sit back and cross my legs.
I’m not a therapist in Florezca and this Bloom’s not my client. Dani’s not even my friend. A huff escapes my lips. I don’t need to understand them, so why waste my energy trying to.
A rumbling of shuffling feet fills the hallway, and I scoot toward the closest end of my bench, peering down the corridor.
“Ah, there you are, Radix Daneel.” The deep feminine voice startles me back against the bench. A tall, willowy woman with flaxen hair and evergreen skin steps into the foyer, stopping at the desk. Dani straightens up their posture, appearing attentive in the span of two seconds.
I fight off a smirk. Look who’s not so smug after all.
“Good afternoon, Radix Corrigan,” Dani says, nodding to her and the shorter, curvaceous woman next to her. “Radix Laurel.”
The pair of Radixes glance in my direction, their frowns pointing straight at my heels. I tap one against the floor, making it clear I’m waiting on something and it’s not their approval.
“Do make sure you’re helping our guests, Radix.” Corrigan draws her unhappy expression from me to her colleague behind the desk. “We’d hate to prolong your punishment.”
Well, well, well. I wonder what can get you punished in the afterlife. Scratch that, I have no interest in getting in trouble. I just want to erase this mark and its meaning.
“Did you have a preference of who to talk to?” Dani calls over from the desk, speaking loudly for the ladies’ benefits, as if they want to help me.
I get up and cross the room, steepling my fingers in front of me. “Can either of you—”
“Radixes Corrigan and Laurel are on their way to another meeting,” Dani says, effectively cutting me off.
“Nevermind then.” I grit my teeth and smile at the pair of Radixes who wander toward the door. Only the shorter, curvy Radix—Laurel—returns it. Ignoring the nastier of the two, I circle back to why I’m here. “Can you point me in the direction of someone who can get a word in with Fate.”
“Second door on your left.” Dani nods toward the hall and picks up a pen, making it clear they’re done with me.
On the paper in front of them, a sketch of a woman’s outline takes up the page. It’s long and willowy, distinct despite the lack of detailing. A palm slides over the image, and they glare up at me. “Is there something else you need?”
“Nope,” I say, emphasizing the p and casting my attention away from the secretive drawing. “Thank you for your help.”
If I had a pulse, it would be ramping up right now, each thud pronounced within my rib cage. Instead, I focus on the punctuated beat of my heels against the wood.
I pass a few doors, finding the second one on the left. Already open, I stride straight inside, chest held high, ready to sweet talk this Radix into presenting my very valid, very reasonable case to Fate.
The room is blanketed in shade. But the moment the desk light snaps on, illuminating the office, I’m faced with the only person I’d rather have help me less than the jerk sitting at the front desk.
Briar fucking Bloom.