Whisper (Riley Bloom 4)

“You can’t just rush in, Riley. If you want to reach Theocoles, you must first understand Theocoles. You have to become familiar with his world, the time that he lived in, the reason he chooses to linger in the way that he does. And, as it just so happens, I can help you with that.”

She extended her hand once again, her gaze serene, her smile gentle, but unlike the last time, I didn’t accept it. I just stood there and stared at the way her hand hovered before me, acting as though she had all the time in the world for me to make up my mind.

I glanced between her and Theocoles who was kicking up a thick cloud of dust as he put himself through a series of jumps and kicks that were soon followed by crouches and rolls before he returned to the jumping and kicking again. Totally oblivious of her, of me, of everything around him—tuned in only to the vision that played in his head—leaving me with no doubt that my options were few.

I was in foreign territory in more ways than one. So what could it hurt to take her hand once again—to accept her offer of help? It’s not like I hesitated the first time around, so why was I suddenly so filled with doubt?

Because it could hurt plenty! The thought lodged itself in my head. You could get stuck and never find your way out—just like all the Soul Catchers that were sent here before you!

Still, as much as I knew that to be true, it wasn’t enough to stop me from mashing my lips, meeting her gaze, and saying, “On one condition, and one condition only.” Knowing it was a little weird for me to be the one making the ultimatum when I was dependent on her.

She nodded, her face appearing so beautiful, so kind, so trusting, so open, I almost felt bad for continuing.

Almost, but not quite.

I cleared my throat, kept my hands firmly by my sides, and added, “The condition being that you will not trap me, terrorize me, taunt me, or … or anything even remotely resembling that. You will help me to understand Theocoles, his world, his motivations, and whatever else I need to know so that I can get through to him and convince him that it’s time to move on. And when it’s time for me to leave—I leave. I’m not like the other Soul Catchers you’ve met. I mean, no offense or anything, but I’m not all that fond of this place. I’ve yet to see one good reason to stay. Which means I will find my way back. There’s no way you can keep me here any longer than I want. No matter how hard you try.”

She paused. Her bottom lip pushed into a ridiculously pretty pout, her expression rearranging itself into one of deep contemplation as her brown eyes met mine and she said, “And what makes you think that I’m responsible for the fate of those previous Soul Catchers?”

I narrowed my gaze, not missing a beat when I answered, “My gut.” I kept my voice stern, businesslike, wanting her to know I’d meant what I’d said. “My gut tells me you’re not all that you seem. And, just so you know, my gut is rarely, if ever, wrong about these things.”

She ducked her head, allowing a bird’s-eye view of the beautiful ruby pinned in her hair. Then lifting it again, she smiled as though she really did mean it when she said, “You have a deal, Miss Riley Bloom.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to travel even deeper into Theocoles’ world?”

She thrust her hand before me, palm open, fingers beckoning, and just like the first time, I didn’t hesitate. I just gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and once again, took her hand in mine.

6

The second before I opened my eyes, I cringed. My jaw clenched, my shoulders pulled in, my entire being on high alert, bracing for the scene I was sure I would find myself in: me, cowering inside the Colosseum, caught smack dab in the middle of some grisly, blood-soaked battle fought to the death—one that involved pitchforks, swords, horse-driven chariots, and, just my luck, a gang of ferocious, ravenous lions.

So imagine my surprise when instead of finding myself immersed in some gruesome s

cene of slaughter, surrounded by a cheering, bloodthirsty crowd, I found myself standing in the most luxurious dressing room I’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” I murmured, not wanting to appear overly impressed, but still, I couldn’t keep the word from sneaking out. I’d never seen anything even remotely like it, except for maybe on movies or TV, but never in real life, and certainly never in the afterlife. “Where are we?” I turned toward Messalina, wondering why she saw fit to bring me here—not that I was complaining, but still, it didn’t seem to make any sense.

Messalina laughed—that lovely, tinkling sound bouncing off the elaborately carved marble columns and walls, echoing all around. “This is my home,” she told me, clearly amused by my reaction.

“You live here?” My eyes grew wide as I strained to take it all in—the chaise longue strewn with colorful silk throws and piles of elaborately embroidered pillows—the jumble of combs and jewels and scented oils and crèmes that littered a nearby table—the shiny, sparkly heaps of what could only be described as “girly-type-things” that draped over every available surface and spilled out of an assortment of ornately painted trunks.

“And is that—is that an indoor swimming pool?” I gestured toward a shallow, mosaic tiled pool, off in its own separate room—the water strewn with lovely pink rose petals that floated along the top, as the flickering torches glittered brightly against the white marble walls.

I couldn’t keep from gaping. Couldn’t keep from wondering why I’d never thought to manifest something like that for myself. Vowing to remedy that as soon as I returned to my home in the Here & Now.

“This is my room, and that is my bath.” Messalina cracked a slow, careful smile. “Though I wouldn’t exactly say that I live here. This is the place where I was raised, Riley. It is also where I met my death, many, many, many years ago.”

My gaze strayed from her to her things; there was so much to look at, it was hard to take it all in. “Well, I guess I can see why you stay.” I shrugged. “Unlike those gladiators down in the barracks, this is a pretty chichi place you got yourself here.”

“It is nice, and comfortable, to be sure.” She shot me a stern look as she added, “But make no mistake—it is not why I stay. Not even close.”

I turned toward her, my attention claimed by the unmistakable edge in her voice. “So why do you stay?” I asked, knowing it was time to get down to business. Time to be a little less impressed by my luxurious surroundings, and a little more focused on the reason I’d taken her hand and followed her here.

But Messalina had her own agenda, and instead of answering, she just shot me another stern look and said, “Still trying to rush this along, are you?” She shook her head, brought her hand to her temple where she sought to tame a renegade curl by tucking it back behind her ear. “You will learn everything, Riley, all in good time, I give you my word. But first, if you want to learn about Theocoles’ world, you will have to make some adjustments to fit into that world.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice pitched high with suspicion, watching as she pressed a long, delicate finger to the tip of her chin as her eyes narrowed in study—rapidly traveling the length of me, up and down, back and forth, over and over again, stopping only when she’d reached some sort of conclusion.

“Well, for starters, we must do something about your clothes.” She wagged her finger at my outfit as though she found it both sad and offensive. “I’m sorry to have to say it, but this sort of attire just will not do.”

I was outraged. Stunned speechless. I mean, seriously, if she found my outfit offensive, that was nothing compared to the offense I took to the sneer she wore on her face.