Chapter 12 Monroe
MONROE
Dozens of harbingers wander about The Warren, weaving in and out of storefronts and clubs, dressed in leathers, lace, and florals.
We’re headed to The Looking Glass, a swanky club with a large mirrored door encased in rich burgundy and peach ranunculi.
If it weren’t for the neon sign lit above it, it would be easy to pass by on the street and think it’s just a mirror.
“Password,” a grumbly voice filters through the wall.
“Witzend,” Roxy replies in her most saccharine voice, the one she reserves for her customers at Novel Nibbles.
The reflection ripples within the gilded frame. Roxy takes its handle and instead of turning it, uses it to steady herself and steps through the entrance. The mirror wobbles around her and reforms, appearing solid once more.
Cherri gestures for me to go next. I’m not sure what to expect, but the moment I grip the handle, I feel as if I’ve been tossed through a pool of translucent Jell-O.
Cherri lands beside me as I inspect my asymmetrical mini dress with black lace cutouts on the sides, tugging the longer end down and checking where the neckline clasps at the nape of my neck.
Once I’ve ensured that everything is in place and dry, I shake off the strange sensation and follow Roxy down a winding corridor lined with mirrors, light spilling between them and giving the space an eerie glow.
Eventually, the hallway forks, and Roxy veers left.
“Where do the other two lead?” I ask, my voice echoing through the small space.
She glances over her shoulder but keeps striding ahead. “Middle goes to the powder rooms and right takes you to The Nestling Fields.”
“What are The Nestling Fields?”
Cherri smirks at Roxy, then turns to me. “It’s where Bloom claiming ceremonies take place.”
“What’s a claiming ceremony?” I ask, watching two Blooms make out against the corridor wall.
“It’s when mates publicly accept the bond set by Fate.” Roxy twirls her midnight-green hair over her collarbone.
“Is that when the flourish marks get those rose-gold accents?”
Roxy nods. “Exactly. Those come after they’ve bitten each other. It’s public and tends to get pretty wild with Blooms paired off or in groups.”
Cherri blows out a breath and fans herself.
“Guess they don’t call it fucking like rabbits for nothing.” I titter, ignoring the warmth spreading across my cheeks. They laugh along, and I flick my gaze away from the couple heading down the other corridor before curiosity latches its roots in me. “Is there a ceremony tonight?”
“No. Those only happen at the end of spring, twice a year. When The Nestling Fields aren’t in use, it’s a public place for intimate gatherings for Blooms…if you catch my drift.” Cherri adds that last bit with a smile so wide it’s clear she knows from experience.
“Caught it.” I swallow thickly. My throat is dry as sandpaper, has been most of the day. No matter how much water I’ve drunk since I got home from Novel Nibbles, nothing quenches my thirst.
“Here we are!” Roxy says as the hallway opens out to a huge mirror-clad room.
The first place I head is the bar, grabbing three bulbs of fizzing green liquid and chugging them at the counter.
Behind me, in the reflection, people dance to sultry instrumentals within glass cases that jut up from the ground.
Each is filled with creeping vines, flowers, and a large lamp spilling golden light over them.
“They can be rented for the evening,” Cherri whispers, “though they usually book up before most Blooms are out for the night, so you have to get here early.”
I scan the room and land on a rectangular box where long mint-green legs tangle with leafy vines. The harbinger swings her hips hypnotically to the rhythm, lost in the music. Dressed in a bubblegum-pink romper that matches her lopsided bob, it takes me a moment to recognize her.
“Skylar?”
Cherri grabs my hand and drags me over there. Reaching up, she taps on the glass.
Skylar startles a moment, squints, and bends down. Recollection brightens her expression and she reaches for the corner of the box, pressing a button. “Hey, Cher!”
The box squeaks open, and Skylar’s eyes shift from my roommate to me, skimming from my heels up my bare legs and short dress before landing on my face. “Didn’t recognize you outside of class.”
“Could say the same for you,” I say appreciatively.
She taps her chin. “Monroe, right?”
“That’s right.” I’m impressed she remembers, but I guess running out of class on the first day is hard to forget.
“Well, now that you’re here,” she waves at Roxy who’s come up behind us, “any takers to join me in the booth—for dancing, that is.”
Skylar’s eyes flit to a few booths over where two harbingers are dancing seductively, the taller one with his arm banded around the other’s middle, hand tucked beneath the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans.
They move so gracefully, the flowers twine their limbs like a living art display, it takes a few moments to register what’s truly taking place.
My chest up through my neck burns. I busy my hands, tucking the strands of the mint green plastered to my forehead back behind my ears.
I must zone out from the hypnotic duo because a moment later, I’m tugged into the booth. As soon as the door shuts behind me, it’s clear these are made for only one or two people. The four of us make do, though, and I close my eyes, pretending there’s no one else here, and dance to the music.
By the time Skylar’s session is up, we are all dripping with sweat, tripping over each other as we step out onto the dance floor.
“Water,” I say, fanning myself and making a beeline for the bar. I grab four glasses and pass them out, draining mine in six long swigs. Skylar’s brows furrow, but then her attention snags on something.
I crane my neck, and Cherri catches my chin. Cradling my jaw, she twists my attention back to her. “Just look anywhere but behind you, okay?”
“Why?” I frown between her fingers cupping my face.
“Your Sir Thumps-A-Lot is here.”
I rear back from her grasp.
“What?” Before I can stop myself, I turn and spot Briar fucking Bloom standing in the doorway. He looks annoyed, like this is the last place he wants to be. “He’s not my anything. Unless you’re referring to him being a nuisance.”
He’s well over six feet tall and looking at him makes it hard to reconcile that I’ve held him on numerous occasions—in his bunny form, of course, but still.
“Maybe they are here looking for someone to join them?” Cherri sighs as Kitt and Tess peer out from behind him.
“Are you volunteering?” I can’t help but laugh at how not subtle she is. “They’re our professors.”
“True, but they’re also adults. Who knows…maybe we’ll be one of those triad mate instances. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s possible.” She brings a palm to her chest. “I mean, look at them.”
“I’d rather not.” They’re standing far too close to the last person I want to see tonight.
Snapping out of her lusty haze, Cherri’s tone turns serious. She takes my hands. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
I watch the professors head into the crowd and then tear my gaze away, not wanting Briar to see me here. Replaying the mortifying moment in class when I realized who he was, I step back. “No, that won’t be necessary. I think it’s too soon for me to be out.”
Cherri frowns.
“You should stay.” It’s clear she wants another shot with our professors and Roxy’s busy shaking her tail on the dance floor with Skylar. “Both of you. I’ll call it a night and see you back at the cottage.”
If I have to deal with Briar, I don’t think I’ll be able to regulate my emotions. I don’t want to embarrass myself again. Showing my face in class tomorrow is going to be hard enough.
“Are you s—”
“Absolutely.” I hold up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry, I know the way back.”
I did not know the way back.
After wandering along the absolutely wrong corridor and seeing The Nestling Fields up close, I sprint down the dimly lit hall of mirrors and run straight into a wall—of muscles.
A tight black shirt outlines every divot and dip that I’ve unfortunately committed to memory.
My face is already hot from all the banging Blooms I’ve encountered this evening, and it flushes further as I drag my stare up the weaving vines climbing out from the V-neckline of Briar’s shirt. His tattoos stop at a sharply tense jaw that’s covered by a trim deep-purple beard.
“Are you following me?”
“What if I was? I wanted to speak with you after what happened today.” He crosses his arms and glances down the dark corridor toward The Nestling Fields, then arches a brow at me. “Though I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Why’s that?” I lift my chin for emphasis. “Don’t think I’m wild enough to be screwing my brains out like the other Blooms?”
“I’m sure you are, but somehow I highly doubt that’s what happened.” He presses his lips together, stifling whatever he really wants to say.
“You could have told me who you were. When we spoke after orientation—” I press the pointy tip of my nail between his pronounced pecs. “You could have warned me.”
“I tried to—”
“Don’t.” I shove my palms against his chest. Briar doesn’t move, rooted in place, but his eyes drop to the ground between us.
His lips part—
“There’s nothing you can say,” I scoff, spotting the exit and walking straight through the mirror, not sure if it’ll work or I’ll slam into it. Fortunately, it’s the former.
I land with my ankle tilted, tripping over my heel that’s caught between two cobblestones. Just as I’m about to slam my knee into stone, a sage hand catches under my arm and hoists me back up.
“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?” I growl at Briar as he releases his grasp, not caring that he helped me. I wiggle my foot back and forth until my heel comes free and then trudge ahead, my glasses half hanging off my nose.
I need to get out of here. Now. But Briar’s boots pound faster than I can manage in heels. Halting, I spin toward him, pushing my glasses up.
“Did you think I’d get over it because I live here?” I gesture wildly around the courtyard. “Yes, it’s beautiful and impeccably lit and full of stunning flowers, but I didn’t ask for this. This is the last place I want to be.”
“I know.” He lowers his voice, eyes darting toward the harbingers who have stopped their revelry. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Why would I go anywhere with you? You’re the last person I want to talk to.” Crossing my arms, I trace my fingers up and down the lace and focus on keeping my voice level. “You’re the reason I’m dead.”
The ball of his throat works, inked vines rolling along his neck. “I know.”
The admission halts the next round of venom I was prepared to spit at him.
His lavender gaze is penetrating and he takes a step toward me “And I’m so—”
“Sorry?” I step back, and he stumbles forward. Every ounce of rage boiling within me rises to the surface and I shake my head at him. “Sorry does nothing for me now.”
I storm away from him, eager to get the hell home and not embarrass myself further. The last thing I need is an emotional outburst in front of a bunch of strangers. I’ve been humiliated enough for one day.
Briar’s palm wraps around my upper arm, and I jerk away from him. “I told you to leave me alone.”
He drops his hand and points toward the opposite direction of where I was heading. “The exit is that way.”
My cheeks flame. “I knew that.” Pivoting, I try to ignore the gossiping onlookers. “Just stay out of my way. I need to complete my training, and I know you’re my professor, but outside of class, you don’t exist to me.”
“If that’s what you want,” he says and steps aside.
Without giving him or any of the busybody Blooms another glance, I stomp off toward the cottage, ready to erase the last few weeks and Briar Bloom completely from my mind.