“He broke it,” I blurt out before adding, “on accident!”
“He?” Her lips press into a line. My heart races, waiting for her to nod along with mock understanding or suggest I check myself into a facility. “So he’s the spirit you were communicating with?”
“Sort of.” I take another sip, the wine burning as it slides down my throat as I search for the right words. “He’s not a ghost. Well, he’s dead but also…not. He’s a harbinger, a winter one.”
She sets her glass on the side of the hot tub. “So less Casper and more Jack Frost?”
“Yes! Exactly.” Steam rises up around us, highlighting the slowly darkening sky. I put my empty glass next to her partially drunk one. “Funny story… Jack Frost is actually real. He’s retired now, but the idea is similar enough. Jax has only met him a few times.”
“Jax?” She cocks her head to the side, as if testing the name in her mind.
“Yeah. That’s his name.”
The seconds stretch on for what feels like forever, only the sound of the jet spinning bubbles through the warm water filling the silence.
“And you and Jax are still communicating?” Each word is slowly enunciated, like she can’t decide how she feels about what I’m saying. Not that I can blame her. She should be more panicked right now. Shouldn’t she?
She places a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Jojo. You’ve gotten this much out.”
She’s right. I’ve already told her most of the crazy parts, what’s a little mate chat between friends at this point? I clear my throat. “We are still communicating, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“How complicated?”
I grimace. “Complicated enough that I’m pouring us each one more glass.”
“Then you better get pouring, Jojo, because I need to know everything,” she says, lifting her glass up and nodding toward the half-empty bottle of wine.
I spend the next thirty minutes talking her through everything until we’re out of wine.
“So you can call him?” She blinks at me. “Do it.”
“I mean, it’s not always immediate.”
“Just try it. I want to meet him!”
Is this some sort of trick? Does she not believe me?
“Um. Okay.” Sliding my hand to my mark, I glide my fingertips over it. “Jax, are you there?”
For a few moments, all I hear are the sounds of my breaths. My pulse kicks up beneath my hand. Then, in a rush of wind, he appears, pale-blue skin glimmering against the dimming backdrop, the moon faintly glowing within the dark-purple sky scattered with stars.
“Hello, Tempest.”
“You came.”
“I said I would.” His gaze turns to Lark who’s staring at him. Like she…
“Do you see him?”
“If you’re talking about this very attractive guy with platinum-and-blue streaked hair, yes.”
“Nice to meet you, Lark,” Jax says with a small bow.
She smirks at him, slipping a hand under my chin to shut my mouth that’s hanging open. “Likewise.”
“How?” I gape at her. It took me months to see him and here Lark is, chatting with Jax in a matter of minutes.
“You said yourself that you needed to believe.” Lark shrugs like this is just a casual hang out between friends. “I followed your lead.”
