Page 60 of Power Shift
Ash laughed and easily batted it away. “You look like your old self again. Dirtier, but healthy.”
“I feel good,” I admitted. “Really good.”
My muscles were the kind of sore you get after a good but not too intense workout. The unending well of magic inside me slumbered like a tuckered-out kitten, and even the vicious Chimera’s power felt quiet and still. Ash was right. I did feel like the old me, the one who existed before the Lords had come into my life.
But today I was less afraid, and I couldn’t explain why. Maybe because I was coming to accept that I wasn’t just one thing. I wasn’t only a Floromancer, or only a demi-god, or only a Chimera. I was Evie, mixed up and still learning as I went.
And that was okay.
I’d spent the entire day avoiding thinking about Caelan and the hurt in his eyes when I told him what I needed. But I wasn’t sorry about it. My confession was the truest thing I’d ever said to him. I wouldn’t marry someone who didn’t know me. But I wouldn’t allow someone to know me until I had complete control of this thing living inside me. Even then, I wasn’t sure I’d ever relax and open myself to trusting again.
Not after the divorce and Finn, and what happened to me afterward. Too many terrible events in such a short time had left an indelible mark on my soul.
Maybe in another life, I would give into my impulses with Caelan.
But not this one. Not now.
Ash reached over and touched my arm. “You’re going to be okay.”
I put my hand over his. “As long as you guys stick around, I’ll be great.”
Moira scooted closer. “You’re never getting rid of us. We’re like ticks, burrowed inside you.”
“Gross,” Tess said with a shudder. “Ticks live in my nightmares.”
“Mine too,” Ash said.
“I get what you’re saying and thank you. You’re stuck with me, too. Like peanut butter and jelly.”
“Much better!” Tess grinned.
A shimmer of magic appeared in the air before us seconds before a scroll dropped into the middle of our grouping. Everyone froze.
A red satin ribbon with a thistle and a small bone kept the scroll together. The scent of a familiar woman floated up.
“Shit. It’s from Rhona.” But I made no move to collect the scroll.
“Can we ignore it?” Ash asked, brow furrowed in a wrinkle of distaste.
Tess reached over and snatched the scroll, carefully unwrapping the parchment.
“Broken keys still open doors,” she read.
When she said nothing else, I frowned. “That’s all it says?”
Tess turned the note around and showed us.
No signature. Only those few words. “I’m not sure what to make of that. Is she threatening me?”
Moira’s lips pursed. “A broken key. Do we have one of those?”
“Not that I know of. Everyone has keys in their junk drawer to doors they no longer use. But keys are hard to break, aren’t they?”
“Unless she’s not talking about an actual key,” Tess said. “Maybe Rhona is trying to open something.”
A contemplative look stole over Moira’s face. “Spells open things,” she mused. “What could Rhona want to open and why would it concern you?”
The sound of breaking ceramic clattering in the greenhouse halted their conversation. I rose to my feet and put my finger to my lips. On silent feet, I crept to the greenhouse. The door wasstill open, and I poked my head in. Rustling greenery to the left caught my attention.
