Page 114 of Off the Rails

TESS

The slam of Cyrus’ door was the only comfort I could take. At least she was gone for now.

Blade reached across the table and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go to my room. Vibe’s are weird now.”

Nodding, I let her help me up as Nash cleaned up the cards — placing them back inside the ornate wood box and sealing them away.

Blade’s gentle hand on my lower back sent a wave of warmth through my body, a strange comfort after the absolute mindfuck that had just happened.

Guiding me down the hallway, we made our way to Blade’s room. She pressed open the door, revealing the entire space to me. Not just the peek I’d gotten when the lights were out.

Every wall was covered in crude graffiti and drawings, the walls painted a deep navy blue that was almost black. Blade flicked on two lantern-like lights from her nightstand before plopping down into her bed, a cable of rope in her hands.

The metal bed frame hardly moved as she fell down, the legs bolted to the floor.

My throat tightened. Why did she need all that?

Nash was right behind us, closing the door after she walked in. “Sorry, Sweet Lamb. Cyrus just reads a lot into the cards.”

Nodding, Blade patted the bed. “Besides, Death isn’t even really a bad card.”

“No card is bad.” Nash insisted as she sat on the edge of Blade’s bed.

Reluctantly, I crawled into the mattress and crossed my legs. Even in the dim light, I could see chains dangling from clips embedded in the wall. Coils of rope hung from hooks all over the room, varied colors and sizes.

Nash leaned back onto one of the metal bed posts. “That’s true.”

“Then what does it mean?” I asked, not really believing her.

“Rebirth, death of the old guard. Authority for change.” Nash’s gray eyes glowed at me in the dark room. My eyes followed the lightning down her shoulder toward her fingertip. Even during the reading, I’d felt like each card was imbued with power from her touch.

My chest hurt from the intensity of the moment. It was supposed to be a stupid game. Not a real indictment of my future.

My eyes caught on Blade’s hands, where she wrapped the rough gauge rope around her palm. She looped it first around her thumb, stretching the rope to the back of her hand, then around her wrist. She kept up like that for a while, pulling the rough cord around her palm and wrist in a tight figure eight.

Her winding tattoos lifted my eyes from her hands up her body.

Nodding toward Blade’s forearm where her brand was visible, I decided to shift topics. “Why the Three of Swords? Seems like a serious meaning.”

Blade shrugged, her eyes darting to Nash. “It was one of the first cards we pulled in a reading. It meant something then.”

“Does it now?” I asked.

But before Blade could answer, Nash cleared her throat. “Plus, the obvious connection. Three swords, three of us. Bonded forever.”

Reaching across the bed, I grazed the branded skin on Blade’s arm. A shiver ran over her as goosebumps rose on her flesh, her grip on the rope in her palm tightening.

“Did it hurt?” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the raised skin. It had healed over well, the skin matching the rest of her other than the slight lift.

Of course it was a silly question. Even tattoos hurt, let alone seering your skin into a pattern.

Blade laughed and nodded. “For sure. It’s a quick flash of pain at first, just intense heat. But once the brand pulls away…”

When her voice trailed off, Nash took over, “A deep, throbbing ache.” With a laugh, Nash looked at her elbow ditch. “This tattoo hurt worse if I’m being honest.”

She grabbed my hand and brought it to the divot, letting my fingers caress the spider web on her left arm. Meeting her gray eyes, I asked, “Is there a reason you picked spiderwebs?”

Nash was almost surprised, but she shrugged. “Of course.”