She sighed, grabbed herY’all Means Allsweatshirt from the end of the bed and shoved it over her tank top and sleep shorts, stuffed her feet into her boots, and headed toward the kitchen’s back door. She grabbed a knife out of the block by the stove before opening the door as quietly as possible. She certainly didn’t need Simon or her grandmother waking up and freaking out about what was probably nothing but a bug zapping against the window.
Outside, the air was cool, the grass already dewy. She crept along the side of the house until she reached her bedroom window, but onceshe got there, she didn’t see anything. She didn’t hear anything, either, other than the slight rustle of rosebush leaves in the summer breeze, a softshhsound that must’ve been her own feet over the grass.
She’d just turned around, ready to go back into the house, when she saw it.
A small rectangle lying on the grass, the moon’s light reflecting off the surface, turning it bright and silver.
She walked over to the spot and picked up the item—a card—and angled it into the light so she could see it clearly. It took her a second to register what it was.
A Tarot card. But not just any Tarot card.
A Two of Cups.
She’d never seen this one before—the art was bohemian in style, two hands intertwined and facing downward, colors pouring off their joining hands and into two golden bowls. She glanced up, confused as all hell as to who could’ve left this here. She was about to call out, when she saw the second card.
It was about fifteen feet away, lying in front of her workshop. She ran to pick it up and was greeted by another Two of Cups. This one was a black-and-white sketch, the only color from the red petals of two roses crossed over two goblets. She stared at it, her breathing suddenly so hard and fast, she started to feel dizzy. She tucked this card with the first, then scanned for any sign of who—
There.
About twenty feet away from her workshop door, in the direction of the inn, was a third card. Her legs felt like water, her fingertips fizzing with too much oxygen as she picked up another Two of Cups, this one with two women’s faces in profile, stars dappling the background.
Jordan’s mouth was dry. She was shaking, and something that felt very much like tears clouded into her chest. She dropped her knife in the grass and gazed up at the inn.
A light was on in the Lapis Room. Or, at least, some kind of light.It was amber-colored, soft and flickering, but she kept walking, heart crashing like a cymbal against her ribs.
On the front porch steps, she found a fourth Two of Cups—all white except for a delicate charcoal illustration. When she pushed open the inn’s front door, which was disturbingly unlocked, she turned on her phone’s flashlight and found a fifth Two of Cups in the foyer, a sixth halfway up the staircase, a seventh in the hallway, and an eighth right outside the Lapis Room.
She scooped this latest one into her hands—a watercolor illustration of two lovers entwined on a misty beach—and joined it with the others. The barest glow of what had to be candlelight flickered from the space underneath the Lapis Room door.
She placed her hands on the refinished wood—closed her eyes, breathed—and pushed.
INSIDE, JORDAN TURNEDoff her phone’s light. She didn’t need it, as there were at least ten candles illuminating the room, all various shapes and colors, some in jars, some dripping wax onto their holders.
And in the very center of the room stood Astrid Parker.
Jordan knew she’d be here. Maybe she even knew after picking up that first Two of Cups, but she was scared to trust it.
She was scared to trust it now, like this was all some dream or hallucination.
But shit, Astrid looked real. She also looked gorgeous, dressed simply in a pair of dark jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt, her hair shaggy, bangs just brushing her lashes. Her eyes were bright, candlelight turning them almost amber—she didn’t look nearly as wraith-like as she had the last time Jordan had seen her.
She looked different somehow. Less haunted.
And she was staring at Jordan with a card in her hands.
“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and a little raspy.
“Um... hi,” Jordan said. She tried to breathe normally, but she was huffing and puffing as if she’d just run a marathon.
“Do... do you need some water?” Astrid asked, canting her head.
Jordan laughed. “I mean, if you’ve got it. Some lady just sent me on a wild Tarot card chase in the middle of the night.”
“Sounds weird,” Astrid said, smiling as she turned and dug a bottle of water out of her bag. “Sorry it’s not cold.”
Jordan waved her hand, then gulped the water down her parched throat. She was grateful for the emotional reprieve, a second to get her head on straight. She drained the bottle and set it on the floor, then waited for Astrid to say something... anything.
“Are you really going to make me start this conversation?” she finally asked.
