Chapter Four
I find the powder room and splash cold water on my face. I realize I’m still wearing Pax’s velvet jacket, softer and warmer than I wish it to be. I wriggle to avoid staining it with water droplets. I cannot afford a cleaning bill.
Julia’s Bureau. The warning. Exploration of the other world can be fatal.
I inhale a shaky breath. Even if it were fatal, I’d be with Daisy. I could beg her forgiveness.
My heart floods with warmth at the thought of my own death.
Why can’t I hear you, Daisy? Where are you? Deep in my soul, a flicker of fear catches flame. I’ve always wondered if I can’t hear Daisy because her soul ended up in—
NO.
I splash more water on my face. It brings my thoughts back to now.
Maybe if I join this Bureau, it will do some good. Right some wrongs. Maybe then Daisy will forgive me, commune with me. I’ve longed to talk to her. I’ve even thought that maybe, maybe, tapping into the Dark Legion would allow me to see her. The temptation is so strong.
Another splash. Pax knows I’m gifted. I’ve kept my skills hidden; the readings I give are a joke. Entertainment only. How could he possibly know?
Another splash, a memory: Daisy laughing. You’re the best, Stella. How do you know what to tell those people? You are gifted. Keep doing it! She jangled a bag full of coins, and her laughter tinkled in harmony.
This is a memory, I think, and not her voice, because I hear it dusty, coated with years, and not crackled, splintered apart by the realms of alive and dead.
I turn off the water. Spirit, ever the jokester, turns it back on. Off. On. I sigh. They laugh.
I flick off the lamp on the entry table. Spirit flicks it back on. Off. On.
“Cut it out, Spirit. I’m not going to do it, okay? I’m not joining Julia’s Bureau.”
The lamp flicks off.
I sigh and push out of the ladies’ room. I weave back toward our table, but halfway to our booth, I realize:
Pax is gone.
I glance around Zangheri’s, but there’s no sign of him. The rest of his aspic quivers on his plate.
First, he sneaks into one of my readings without pay, and now this?
The group of women who were seated next to us lean their heads together. Their eyes scrape over me. I can fully read the lips of one of them, pink and pouty, saying, What was HE doing with HER?
Our waiter, Frank, approaches. “About the bill, miss…”
That ass.