Chapter 11 Monroe
MONROE
My hand slams over my mouth.
Did I just call our professor Sir Thumps-A-Lot in front of the entire class?
My eyes dart around the classroom, and yes, everyone is staring at me. The chestnut bunny stares up, long ears flopped by his sides. The expression drawn across his muzzle is one I can’t quite decipher because—
No, this is crazy.
Did our professor really just turn into a bunny? A bunny that looks exactly like the one I cared for the last two months?
The same bunny I chased into the street before I…
The rest of my classmates seem concerned. And Sir Thumps— Professor Briar wriggles his tiny pink nose, his whiskers flicking in silence.
What in the fresh hell…
My hands clench my skirt, fingers digging so hard into the fabric I’m certain I’ll find bruises later. If I even bruise anymore. Maybe I don’t. I’m dead after all. Dead because I ran after the bunny staring up at me, an immortal who didn’t even need my help.
This has got to be some cruel joke.
“Ha!” I’m unable to contain the single laugh, though nothing about this is funny.
My cheeks flame and I take one shaky step backward.
Then another, my footsteps whispering along the soil until I’m out of the room and pressed against the corridor lined with roses.
Pricked by their thorns, I hiss and slump onto the dirt floor, twisting to inspect my skin.
Red sprouts up from the sting, and I swipe it with my finger, staring at the droplet.
I still bleed. I still feel pain.
What the fuck kind of immortality is this?
Rocking onto my knees, I reach for one rose, then another, plucking them from the wall and tossing them to the ground. I want to rip them all away and pound at the wall without the cover of beauty. It’s too much. Too much hiding the truth beneath it.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should be home, helping my clients, my grief group, painting, chasing Jessica around the apartment—if she’s truly a bunny. How many of the seemingly innocent little beasts are actually immortals?
Maybe he never needed my help at all? Maybe I should have left him tangled with that fence? He would have been fine.
Not that I would have known from the little boy shouting for help, the crimson-smeared chestnut fur punctured by the metal prongs of the fence, or from shushing the scared bunny whose eyes were wide with fear as I got him free of the wiring.
He’d passed out on the way to the emergency vet’s office, clutched in my arms with a tourniquet I’d made from the fabric of my skirt.
I blink and shake away the memory, staring at the blood on my finger. Trailing my attention where my shoulder was pricked by thorns. I watch it close up, the angry red spot slipping back into pink quartz skin. I ball my fists.
He could have healed right back up.
I’m such an idiot.
The thorns prod my exposed skin and I continue leaning against the rose-covered wall, welcoming the sting.
I’m not sure what I expected in death, but this—something—makes me feel human, even if I’m not anymore.
I savor the pain and pretend that I’m alive.
Why not let the denial swallow me up, just for a moment, so I can drown in the echoes of everything I’ve lost?
I don’t notice Cherri come up until she’s crouched in front of me, a hand on my shoulder. “Monroe? Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Lies. “Just surprised…” After a few slow inhales, I’m calm enough to clarify. Brows furrowed, I blink a few times, replaying what I witnessed. “We turn into bunnies? Did you know that?”
“…I assumed you knew, but now I know how stupid that sounds. I am so sorry,” she says with a grimace. “Didn’t you wonder why there are so many bunny things around?”
“I thought they were cute décor for the spring aesthetic.” My mind flits around all the parts of Florezca I’ve seen so far. The fountain and bunnies hopping up the steps of City Hall—
“Is everything alright?” Both our heads snap in the direction of the main entrance.
The dean hurries toward us. Her eyes lock with Cherri behind me, and something in their silent exchange has the harsh lines of her face softening.
“It’s perfectly normal to be a bit shocked and nervous during your first transformation lesson.
But if this is all too much for you, we can defer your enrollment until the next session. ”
“When is that?” I rasp.
“Six months from now.” She glances at Cherri, and I follow her focus to my new friend.
Cherri’s trained her expression into something unreadable, like she doesn’t want to influence my decision.
But I already know what I’ll choose. Nothing anyone can do will sway me, not even learning that the bunny I brought back from the brink of supposed death is actually an immortal who’s my professor. My very attractive professor—
Briar’s naked body hops into my mind, every inch of inked-sage skin. He could have warned me, but he didn’t. He didn’t say a thing.
What a jerk.
He’s the reason I’m here. The fact that he’s hot enrages me further. He’s lucky he’s already dead because I’m tempted to kill him.
Deep breaths, Monroe. Anger isn’t going to get you anywhere.
“I’m okay,” I lie and clear my throat, brushing dirt off my skirt as I stand. The dean cocks her head at me, her lips in a flat line. She’s not buying it. I swallow down my rage and force a smile across my lips. “It just startled me. As you said—first lesson and all.”
I lift my chin for emphasis.
The dean frowns. “Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? Come back bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say, shaking my head.
“I insist.” She places a hand between my shoulder blades and guides me toward the door, tossing a glance behind us. “Why doesn’t Ms. Cherri escort you?”
“I’d love to,” Cherri says before I decline.
She loops her elbow in mine and leads me outside, not letting me stop moving until we’re at the edge of the grounds, hair rain-soaked against our scalps.
We trudge toward City Center, soiled toes stepping across the cobblestones as we pass the street vendors, heading in the direction of The Warren.
It’s the only burrow you can’t see from City Center, and the fact that it’s the adults-only section, makes me curious why that is.
Twenty minutes later, the rain has stopped and we’re standing in front of a rounded door flanked by a thick hedge wall.
Both still barefoot. Cherri takes pity on me and twitches her nose, summoning my floral combat boots from earlier.
She steps on the widest cobblestone, slightly set apart from the rest, and some hidden mechanism jolts to life.
With a groan, the oddly shaped wooden door opens slowly, and I follow her inside.
Caped in darkness, we stroll down the archway of thick greenery. Rose-gold lanterns hang at varying intervals and lengths, leading us along a narrow path that opens out into a vibrant city loop. Shops line the rim, including a winery, a few clubs and restaurants, and a sex toy shop.
“Come on,” Cherri says, pointing toward the bookstore café up ahead. “We’ll get something to eat at Novel Nibbles. Roxy’s working today.”
Pink, white, and green hydrangeas curve over the awning and sit in planters spanning the long windowsill outside the quaint café.
There’s a Wait to be Seated sign, but Cherri forges on and grabs a table near the burbling fountain at the café’s center, another sculpted tower of lopsided teacups filled with bushels of hydrangeas, floppy bunny ears peeking out from a few of them.
The ceiling is swathed in them as well, aside from a handful of square windows that draw in sunlight, offering peeks of a rainbow across the droplet-kissed glass.
“I’m so sorry you had to leave early,” I manage once we both sit down. “It’s the first day and I know how much you were looking forward to starting class.”
“It’s no big deal.” She waves her hand for emphasis. “The dean was right, you’ve taken on a lot in a short time. No one would judge you for deferring. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“No. I’m glad you did.” Otherwise, I wouldn’t realize how close I was to having a way home.
I don’t even give myself the opportunity to doubt my decision.
I can’t. If I let Therapist Monroe loose, it’ll paralyze me.
That’s the last thing I need when there’s a way out of here, so I push back the thoughts and redirect my energy at my friend across the table. “I’ll get through it.”
I fidget with the mismatched bunny salt-and-pepper shakers between us.
“Okay. Well, I can’t say I’m not glad.” Cherri watches my hands twitch with the condiments, brows furrowed, then her gaze glides up to mine. “It’ll be so much more fun together.”
“Agreed,” I reply with a firm nod.
All I need to do is figure out how to get my magic working and make it through this course.
Cherri’s fingers wrap around my wrist, halting my nervous energy.
She wrinkles her nose, weighing whatever’s on her mind.
“I have to ask…and no judgment, truly, but…Sir Thumps-A-Lot?” She clamps her lips shut, stifling a laugh.
“Did I miss something after the mixer? Is that a new mortal kink I haven’t heard of? If so, tell me more.”
I can’t help but smile.
“I wish that’s what it was, believe me.” Sucking in a breath, I shake my head. “I sometimes fostered injured bunnies before—”
The image of a chestnut tail followed by an orange bus slams into my mind, and I halt the vision there. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow down the painful memory, tears burning behind my lids. I blink them away and breathe in and out until the sensation disappears.
“I see.” Cherri nods slowly a few times and arches a brow. “And Professor Briar was one of these bunnies? Sir Thumps-A-Lot?”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him that name?”