Steadying her breathing, she cautiously reached out to the Nymph who’d been half hauled onto the floral shore. ‘Are you okay?’
The creature looked up.
You didn’t use his attack as a distraction to grab the flower.
‘What? No. I didn’t come here to steal it. I came to ask if I could have it. I need it for—’
The painting of secrets.
Nicole blinked at the phrasing. ‘Yes. I suppose so.’
You passed the test, she said.Your drive is to protect, not conquer.
One of the Nymphs swam closer, scooping up the lily with both hands and raising it to Nicole, soaked arms sparkling.
Nicole put down the knife and reached out carefully. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed, a minor shudder rippling through her at the touch of the Nymph’s cool, moon-pale fingers.
The glass flower was set in her palms, exquisite and glistening with glade water.
Greet your mate with a kiss from us.
Suspicion darted through her stomach. ‘How did you know about—’
Before she could finish, they grabbed her and hauled her back beneath the water.
Nicole barely had time to breathe and close her fingers around the flower, before she felt herself being spun andpushed.
She gasped as her head breached some invisible boundary, air rushing back into her lungs.
The gallery—
Nicole hauled herself through the painting, pushed by a wave, and fell onto the table as water crashed to the gallery floor.
‘Mother of gods!’ Remi cursed, fighting through the small flood rushing from the piece and dragging Nicole off the table as she coughed. ‘Are you all right?’
Hair plastered to her face and shoulders, water pooling at her feet, and the great wet palm of a lily pad draped over her shoulder, Nicole held up the glass flower.
‘I got it.’
Remi’s eyes were wide. Then, the timer on the device went off. She hauled Nicole up. ‘Time to go!’
Water still poured from the painting, making them slip and stagger against the flow.
Already, there were shouts of surprise and concern from the humans and staff running past them.
‘Your coat,’ Nicole gasped, as Remi grabbed her under the arms and helped her walk.
Remi laughed. ‘Dylan would never let me live it down if I let you get eaten by a painting.’
A rasp of relief broke out of Nicole’s throat in the form of a laugh as Remi hauled her to the doors. Her legs still felt unsteady, her body reeling as the sweet, cloying scent of the Nymphs followed her.
‘Why aren’t the Centaurs after us?’ Remi asked.
‘I didn’t steal it,’ Nicole said, ‘they gave it to me.’
People pointed and a few children gasped as they passed.
‘Live art piece!’ Remi explained. ‘So amazing!’ Then, to Nicole. ‘Tell meeverything.’
