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She stares into the trees, her gaze going dreamy and distant. “The colors. When mates kiss, the world goes from black and white to these beautiful, vibrant shades. It’s like a rainbow was hiding behind everything all along, only you couldn’t see it. But after a true mate’s kiss, your perception changes. You change.” When she catches me staring at her, she huffs a soft laugh. “Sounds crazy, but it’s true. Emotions from your mate ripple through your vision like stormy worry grey or candy-apple anger.”
A chill runs through me, winding around my spine like a vine and squeezing my heart like a root ball wound too tight. “What’s spiky gold? Like Gorgon yellow but jagged and broken?” The colors that spooled out of Nolan to wrap around me in the hallway last night.
“For me, gold’s love, though I’ve never seen it anything but smooth. Why?”
My chest goes tight. Love? I can’t. He couldn’t. We couldn’t. Not with the past between us and a future of him in Nashville and me bound to Syn City. “I thought I heard Kiva mention it once. I must’ve been wrong.”
She stares at me, narrowing her eyes. “Any other colors she talked about?”
“Nope.” I nod toward the pointed yellow petals on the arnica flowers. “She probably just wanted a way to make sure I didn’t dose the healing balm I sent home with her and Stone.”
Her glance follows my gaze. “Spiky yellow. Poison?”
“Lethal to certain shifters.”
“Well, that’d be a good reason for her to ask.” She sounds as if she bought my lie. “At least if Nolan kissed you, then you would know why his attitude changed.”
“It’s more like he’s just an asshole.” Because I don’t want to talk about that kiss even though it’s all I can think about this morning. “His brother was at least a sweetheart before he snapped…or didn’t.” If Nolan’s being honest with me now, then the marshals covered up the actual truth years ago. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Only you can make that decision. He didn’t lose his entire family and get forced into this life. You did. Kiva and I will stand by you no matter what you choose.” Her vehemence melts the sharp edges from my anxiety.
Damn, at least one thing’s still going right despite the chaotic mess that Nolan has made of me since his arrival. “The immortals knew what they were doing when our mothers chose my sisters in this life.”
She flies forward as if coming at me for a hug, big tears dripping down her cheeks. “Aww, Sadie, you made me cry.”
“Not on the opium poppies,” I warn her, throwing up my hands in the universal whoa gesture. “They soak up the tears and pass on the sadness in any brews.”
“All right.” She covers her mouth as if trying to smother her laughter. “No expressing emotions on the plants. Got it. I’m sure the stoic rule has nothing to do with the gardener.”
I toss a clump of dirt at her, the soil that doesn’t stick to my fingers or under my nails spraying in an arc.
This time she doesn’t bother hiding her giggles.
She laughs and flies up through the trees before dashing away almost as fast as she can skate. The woman may be a walking accident waiting to happen, but she’s a speed demon on the track. If only roller derby was back in session.
If only Syn City could reopen.
If only I hadn’t kissed Nolan. And gotten caught.
Coach has a direct connection to the Syndicate as the leader of our House. The ruling board doesn’t mess around once they’ve handed down a decision. My stomach churns with the idea of the Huntresses turning our home into some kind of shooting gallery for sport. But it’ll happen if Nolan doesn’t solve his case.
The case that I can’t help with because I don’t remember anything about my murder. Which is why I’m hiding in my garden.
I failed to protect my family, can’t seek a Fury’s revenge, and don’t know how to make the current problem go away. So I plant and water, call on the earth to nurture these seeds into sprouts, and switch the order of the stones to best encourage deep roots and lush growth. I work until long shadows stretch across the wolf’s bane borders, no closer to answers of what to do about Nolan than when I started.
“Hope I’m not disturbing you.” Nolan’s voice—rich and smooth with a depth and weight I don’t remember—has me flinching. He stands at the edge of the woods, leaning against a tree as if he’s been there a while. “I used to imagine you in a garden like this.”
Suspicion spirals through me, making me wish I couldn’t see ribbons the grey-green of storm clouds unraveling from him. Worry, Dottie had said that color represented. What could have a cocky wolf marshal worried? Worse, why does his being bothered trouble me so much?
“How’d you find me?” I ask. “This spot’s warded with cloaking spells and protective magic so thick that no one outside my sisters can pinpoint it.”
He lifts his chin skyward. “I followed the butterfly Fury.”
Dottie. That makes sense. If he could see her above the treetops, he must’ve tracked the most likely location from there. Except the spells should have confused him when he came closer.
“I brought you something,” he says.
“Thought I was clear about no mating gifts.” I brush my hands against my black apron that has little skulls embroidered on it, a present from Kiva who says I shouldn’t have to sacrifice my famous style for the sake of some dirt. “No food, no nothing.”
