The Price Guide to the Occult(25)
Nor left the shop without another word, eager to escape those ominous fern tattoos. She plopped down on the bottom step, not caring that the rain had picked up again or that the biting cold ate its way through her loose-knit sweater or even that what was left of yesterday’s eyeliner was smeared. She raised her face to the sky and closed her eyes. The rain cooled her cheeks. If only the rain could wash away everything else as well — the horrible sick feeling in her stomach, those green tattoos and purple clouds, and, most of all, her mother. More than anything, she wished she could find a way to sever her mother’s noxious grip on people, tightening like a noose with every passing day. She opened her eyes, but instead of finding a world clear of Fern Blackburn, she found Reed Oliveira staring at her.
“You know it’s raining, right?” he asked.
“Is it?” She tugged the sleeves of her sweater over her hands out of habit. “I hadn’t noticed.” His presence made her feel a little bit better. Thankfully, the only tattoo he had was that blackbird inked on his arm. “What are you doing here?”
He held up a paper bag. “Madge never picked up her order this week. For all we know, she could be dangerously low on peppermint and clary sage.”
“That would be a disaster. You are an unsung hero. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
Reed laughed. “I was going to go for a run after I dropped this off. What do you say about joining me?”
“Are you sure you’ll be able to keep up?”
“No,” he said. “But I am damn well gonna try.”
He gave Nor a silly grin that made her feel light-headed, and at that moment, despite everything else that was happening, she swore if Reed Oliveira asked her to build a ladder to the moon, she’d say yes.
“I’ll have to go home to change first,” she said.
She stood, and her sweater fell from one shoulder. Her face flushed with pleasure when Reed’s eyes settled on her bare skin. Then he frowned upon seeing the neat scars that lined her collarbone. She quickly pulled her sweater back into place, and her face flushed for a whole different reason. This was what it felt like to be around him — constantly pulled in two directions, wanting to be both seen and unseen, and not knowing which one she preferred.
A few minutes later, Nor left Reed waiting in the foyer of the Tower with Bijou while she ran upstairs to change. Reed Oliveira is waiting for me, she thought, her heart pounding as she threw on a pair of running tights, a clean sports bra, and a thick hoodie — all black, of course — jamming her thumbs into the holes she’d sliced into the cuffs to hide her wrists. She twisted her damp hair into a knot on the top of her head and grabbed her running shoes. At the bottom of the stairs, just for a second, she was certain she’d only imagined that he was there, in her house, waiting to go on a run with her. She was certain that she’d find only Bijou and her own delusion chasing each other around the kitchen. Please still be there, she thought, taking a moment to compose herself before she rounded the last few steps, just in case.
And he was, smiling that gorgeous smile of his with Bijou wiggling happily in his arms. Bijou had decided he liked Reed. Reed reminded him of sunshine.
Soon, Nor and Reed were running along the trail surrounding Celestial Lake. Antiquity trotted behind them, disgruntled.
For a while, they ran without talking. Nor tried to think of something to say, but thoughts came to her only in fragments, and none were worth saying aloud. Instead, she increased her speed, rounding the ridge on the side of the lake with quick strides, pleased — not to mention impressed — to find Reed pulling up beside her.
The only sounds were Antiquity’s heavy panting, the splash of Reed’s and Nor’s steps on the wet trail, and the roar of the waterfall at the far end of the lake.
The woods up here are quiet, Nor noted. Strangely so. It wasn’t until they crested the hill that Nor realized that the quiet was too complete. They hadn’t seen any wildlife since a pair of chipmunks had followed them for a short time, chittering, “Run! Run!” To Nor, it had sounded less like a cheer and more like a warning, a warning that Nor tried to tune out.
They stopped in the mist of the waterfall to catch their breath. More wide than tall, Lilting Falls dropped a mere twenty-five feet, skipping down a stairstepped cliff. The pattern the falling water made on the rocks was delicate, like the gossamer grace of a lace curtain or a bride’s wedding veil.
Antiquity, panting loudly, sank into a wet patch of moss by the side of the trail. Nor picked up a stone and rolled it around in her palm. It was an agate, the color of honey and smooth to the touch, like the round marble clutched in the tiny crow’s claw she had tucked in her sweatshirt pocket. Nor tossed the stone into the lake.
She allowed her eyes to fall on the tattoo on Reed’s arm. Every time he moved, the blackbird seemed to fly. He smiled at her. Following her gaze, his smile turned sheepish.
“I never noticed other people’s tattoos until I got one myself,” he mused, leaning closer so that she could hear him over the roar of the falls. “Lately, I’ve seen a bunch of people on the island with the same tattoo, some kind of plant or something.” He met her eyes. “Have you noticed? I wonder what the story is behind that.”
“Does there have to be some deep rationale behind every tattoo?” she asked, trying to mask her sudden anxiety. The last thing Nor wanted to think about right now was her mother.