I laugh. “But, sir, how else am I supposed to keep my virtue safe?”
“It just means a rake like me has to be completely devoted to the destination.” His responding kiss is deep as he lifts my body so I’m sitting pressed against him. “You are the only destination in my life, and I’ll burn this dress to the ground when we get home to show you how wonderful the journey can be.”
I shoot up in bed, my body flushed and hot.
Cat is sprawled beside me, hugging the stuffed bear, aptly named Honey Bear, that she’s had since childhood. She left it behind for the weekend but found it sitting on her bed, another pleasant surprise provided by Essos and Sybil.Evidence like the bear and my grandmother’s rings helped the two of us start to come to terms with this.
After thoroughly inspecting her room, we went back to mine to look deeper, mostly in the closet to see how they outfitted us both. Surprisingly, all the clothes were things I would have grabbed for myself, but maybe it’s not surprising. It’s clear Essos and Sybil did their research. We stayed in my room for the rest of the night, even after hearing the other girls start to trickle upstairs to their own. Neither of us wanted to talk it out with anyone else.
We struggled to fall asleep last night, both of us trying to put on a brave face for the other. Still, Cat’s sobs shook the bed until she cried herself to sleep and I wound around her like the big spoon.
I ease out of bed and slide on a pair of slippers, then grab the robe that’s hanging behind the door before sneaking down the stairs. My steps are silent as I walk down the grand staircase, and I try to imagine doing so in one of the dresses from the dream closet upstairs. I pinch myself, something I’ve been doing periodically to make sure this isn’t all a strange dream. The memories of dying are there, the feeling of the water in my lungs. The despair, the pain, lingers in my mind. I could barely stand to wash my face before going to sleep.
I walk through the foyer and into the ballroom before going out the back door to go to the pool, and I come to an abrupt stop. A dark figure stands on the deck facing away from me, but the silhouette is a dead giveaway of who it is. My pulse skyrockets at the idea of having alone time with him.
I study his back for a moment, undetected. His dark hair is slicked back, but I can see curls at the nape of his neck. Somehow, with the knowledge of who he truly is, he seems larger than before.
“Well, do come on. I don’t bite, I promise,” Essos turns toward me, a coffee cup in his hand. When he smiles at me, he gets little crow's feet beside his eyes, but I can see the weight of the world resting on his broad shoulders. The impulse to reach out and run my hand along his strong back, as if I could unburden him with this action, is almost overwhelming. Instinctively, I know that if I did that, I would feel the raw power in his body. I step closer to him, wanting to do something to make him smile again. He doesn’t do it enough.
“And if I wanted you to?” I say. I have no idea where the words came from, but they’re out there and, rather than be ashamed, I stand up taller.
Essos, on the other hand, was mid-sip of coffee, and he coughs, raising his eyebrows at me over the brim of his mug. “Then just say when.”
I blush and walk to stand beside him. I stop at the railing and look at the beach, admiring the view. “How does it work? Are we actually here? Are we in California, or is this all fake and magic or whatever it is that you do?”
“Ah, it wouldn’t be any fun to give all my secrets away on the first day, would it?” He gives me a wink before leaning against the railing and studying me.
“I would consider this the second day, wouldn’t you?” I lock eyes with him, daring him to look away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches toward the violent purple bruise on my face, stopping just short of contact. He takes a step closer, and I feel like a flower opening to the sun. While the swelling on my face is mostly gone, this bruise is something I will carry for days as a reminder. Of course, I’m making an assumption that I’ll heal the way I did in the mortal realm.
Essos’s hold over me releases when he clears his throat, but he doesn’t step away, and neither do I. “It’s a boring combination of both. My world exists beside yours. My power allows the world to be more condensed, more concise than your world. In the land of the dead, people crave what they know—it helps them to transition. You don’t know this house, but you know California; you know the beach.” He pauses, thoughtful eyes studying my face. “Would you like me to do something about your bruises?”
I reach up to where he is gesturing, and my fingers brush his before I touch the bruise around my eye. I contemplate his offer. I’m not entirely convinced that the way the swelling rapidly resolved wasn’t Sybil’s doing. “It’s not going to heal on its own?”
“It will. You are dead, but because you haven’t passed into your afterlife, you still maintain the damage you sustained before you died.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, as if it causes him actual pain to say, “You…you drowned, so I imagine there have been a few moments where it’s felt like you’re drowning again. It won’t feel like that again, but it’s your body’s way of trying to reconcile your death.”
“Is that why I’ve been so cold?” My words are low, barely a whisper. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, and I don’t know if it’s due to the chill from the morning air or something else, but I’m gravitating toward him as if I’m seeking him out.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t still feel that way. I can’t say from experience, but usually once you’re aware of your death, your body compensates. Think of it like a pressure chamber for divers.” This time when he lifts his hand to my cheek, I can feel the featherlight brush of his knuckles on my skin. “You never answered my question—would you like me to heal you?”
I lift my hand again, not to touch the bruise, but to touch where he’s touched me. His blue eyes are studying my face so intently that if a dinosaur in a tutu danced by, I don’t think either of us would look at it. “No. It’s the only thing that feels real right now.”
My hand lingers there before I bring it back down and pull the robe tighter around me. The chill is back, sending a shiver down my spine. Essos lifts his hand once more, but this time, he gently drags the back of his knuckles down my arm, warmth spreading from the point of contact. It’s so light that if I hadn’t watched him do it, I could have convinced myself I imagined it.
“That was you, yesterday? Warming me?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Essos winks, looking young and boyish when he does. “Don’t tell Sybil. I’m not supposed to give any preferential treatment.” I stare at him, looking at his face, finally able to see him up close. His features seem unreal, like something Michelangelo created from marble and chiseled to perfection. His blue eyes are light, almost like thick ice over water. His stubble from yesterday is gone; instead, his skin is smooth, as if freshly shaved with a sharp razor. He has a distinct face, and I’m sure I would recognize him if I had seen him before. All the same, he feels comfortable, familiar, as if Ihavebeen here before, standing on this very deck as we sipped coffee and got ready to face the day together.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”I promise.
“Honestly, talking to you now, unchaperoned, is also against procedure,” Essos warns me with an eyeroll.
“Procedure?” I ask, curious about who set all these rules.
Before he can respond, the dogs appear, their tails wagging happily. The same grey dog that licked me yesterday nuzzles my hand for petting.Essos must be prepared for the onslaught, because he perches his coffee precariously on the banister.
“What are their names?” I ask, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
Essos pinches and pulls up the legs of his pants before he squats down to their level. Two of the dogs rush him, nearly knocking him to the ground in their attempts to lick him. The grey pit bull settles down at my side. “Well, Spot is the white one and Shadow is the black one, and at your side is Dave.”