My chest felt like it had been clawed open, my heart exposed. Even as Ronan rubbed slow circles on my back, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and all around me the world tilted sideways, rocking and spinning until I could no longer tell what was up and what was down.
More memories of Sophie flickered through my mind like a hundred little movies: Eating Chinese takeout on the floor the first night in our rental house, wondering what people without access to Chinese takeout did on moving day. Painting her bedroom a pale lavender and mine a sunny yellow, only to switch rooms when we realized we each liked the other one better. Finding one of her cheerful painted rocks in the pocket of an old coat I hadn’t worn in months, wishing me a beautiful day; snuggling together under her daisy comforter and binge-watching romantic comedies on her laptop during a rare snowstorm that had kept the entire city indoors for two days. And of course that first night we'd met during a delivery to Illuminae—the instant connection I’d felt the moment she smiled at me across the bar.
I’m new here,she’d said, signing for the order.Don’t tell anyone I have no idea what I’m doing.
Since that night seven years ago, I hadn’t gone more than a day without seeing her.
Now, I’d never see her again. Never find a rock in my pocket, painted with one of her encouraging Sophie-isms. Never draw Tarot cards with her over a pot of tea after a long work shift. Never climb up onto our garage roof at midnight to watch a meteor shower.
Never tell her how much she meant to me.
A trembled rolled through my body, starting in my legs and rumbling up through my chattering teeth. Tears leaked unbidden from my eyes, and I squeezed them shut and tried to follow the sound of Ronan’s voice, a faraway beacon in the fog of this wretched misery.
“Just breathe, baby,” Ronan whispered again. “I’ve got you.”
I don’t know how long I stood there falling apart in his arms, but when the fog finally dissipated and I felt like I could stand on my own two feet again, I looked up into Ronan’s eyes and smiled. Not a happy grin by any stretch, but a grateful one.
Grateful for Ronan. Grateful for our friendship and his unwavering loyalty. Grateful that no matter how short Sophie’s life had been, the universe had seen fit to give us seven years together.
In that moment, I was even grateful for grumpy Asher—not that I’d sharethatparticular sentiment out loud.
“There you are.” Ronan returned my smile, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Hey. When was the last time you ate? Toast doesn’t count.”
“I… don’t remember.”
He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together and giving me a reassuring squeeze as Asher resumed his place on my right. “Come on. We’re making a detour.”
* * *
Johnny's Seaside Pizza was a tiny place on Water Street with a three-stools-wide counter up front, a kitchen in the back, and a side room the size of a shack for placing takeout orders. Despite the meager setup, it was the best damn pizza west of Seattle, and only four blocks from home.
Ronan was buying, so Asher and I waited under the awning outside, watching the rain pelt the pavement in front of us. Across the street, two crows argued over a soggy pizza crust.
Watching them fight for that scrap of food weighed me with deep sadness.
“Hey, Asher? I… Thanks,” I mumbled, needing a distraction. “For before. I don’t usually…”
I trailed off, not sure how to finish that. In the last two nights, I’d gotten a young girl killed, half-resurrected her, saved another girl from a life of vamp slavery, found my best friend murdered in her bed, gotten a proposition from Death, and gotten officially banned from a coven. Something told me there were quite a few more ‘I don’t usually’ moments in my future.
Asher nodded once, but didn’t say anything. Didn’t even turn to look at me.
Wow.If Ronan was enigmatic, this guy was downright impenetrable.
When I couldn’t take another minute of his stone-cold silence, I turned to him and said, “So, what’s your story, Asher O’Keefe?”
“Which one, Gray Desario?”
“Any one. I don’t know. How did you and Ronan hook up?”
“Wouldn’tyoulike to know?” he teased.
“I was just trying to make conversation.”
“Hot tip, Cupcake.” He turned to me with a condescending frown. “Maybe you should stick to making your fluffy bunny potions or sparkly charm bracelets or whatever it is you flit around doing all day.”
“Potions and charm bracelets? Please.” I let out a low chuckle. “I’m more of a poisons girl myself. Never know when you might suddenly need of a gruesome yet completely untraceable cause of death for that special someone in your life.”
Ronan cocked an eyebrow, and I swear I caught a flicker of appreciation in his sea-blue eyes.
