Page 57 of Blood from the Marrow (Lilith’s Legacy #2)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

It had taken days of scouring every journal, notebook, and random note scrawled on the back of a pharmacy receipt for Zuri to learn the exact spell to enchant the binding ribbon.

It had been Avani’s great-great grandmother who’d written enough of it down that between the three of them, they’d pieced together the rest. So there she was, standing ankle-deep in rushing ocean tides with a sliver of moon staring down at her like a celestial smirk.

Holding her wooden bowl, she tried not to feel stupid waiting for Elena and Marisol.

What if they didn’t come? Zuri gripped the bowl holding the shockingly few items needed to bind three souls together.

On top of the box of matches was a long, white ribbon.

She’d steeped it in a mix of rose petals, lavender, rosemary, cinnamon, basil, and honey before sealing it in a jar and burying it in the ground for three nights.

The rose quartz she’d placed with it must have been a treasured find in the days before online shopping. She tried to think about the magic, about the work of the binding rather than the act, Instead of giving oxygen to the burgeoning fear that Marisol and Elena were going to change their minds.

Zuri shifted her weight, feet sinking deeper into the sand. She’d gotten used to the temperature until cold water rushing over a new segment of skin shocked her back to her body. Why had she chosen such a short, thin dress? It was practically just a bleached Ace bandage wrapped around her body.

The scent of Marisol’s blooming roses joined the fragrance of the spelled ribbon and slapped Zuri in the face.

This was crazy. Stupid. Elena and Marisol were going to realize that, and Zuri was going to be the only moron who followed through and stood in the ocean in the middle of the night like a maniac. A naive—

In the dark, it was impossible to see who was walking toward the beach from the house.

Backlit, all Zuri had was an outline of a person.

But she felt her presence nearing even before she distinguished wild, wavy hair swaying like kelp in a current.

Felt the confidant swagger in the heat racing over her goosebump-covered skin.

Elena, in loose white linen pants and a matching untucked button-down, was heart stopping.

Eyes fixed on Zuri, the smile that crept onto her moonlit face was more magic than Zuri was holding.

It was the reason grunting cave-dwellers evolved into poets so they could translate the indescribable feeling warming Zuri’s chest into words.

Why musicians invented new instruments because rudimentary tools couldn’t capture the song in their minds.

“You’re early,” Elena said, voice like soft leather and strong bourbon, soothing and intoxicating at once.

Her voice reminded Zuri that she wasn’t diving off a cliff—she was wading into comforting waters. She was choosing the only home that ever fit.

Elena slipped out of her loafers while pinning Zuri down with her gaze. Her eyes were as dark as the midnight sea and just as deep when she walked toward her. She didn’t stop to roll up her pant legs before she met Zuri in the ankle-deep water.

“You’re absolutely arresting.” Elena wrapped her arm around Zuri’s waist, hand on the small of her back when she pulled her in. Hovering over Zuri’s useless mouth, Elena inhaled her.

“Yeah, well.” Zuri couldn’t will the moisture back into her suddenly dry mouth. Standing in so much fucking water with her tongue feeling like sandpaper was cruel. “You’re kind of forced to say that on your wedding—”

Elena cut Zuri off before she could formulate a self-deprecating joke.

Lips on hers, Elena claimed her mouth with the confidence of night following day.

Like it was just the natural order of things.

It was gravity and electromagnets and golden ratios.

It was baked into the very laws of nature.

Her lips, her body, her heart. They all belonged to Elena. They always had. They always would.

“Jezebel and Cleopatra together couldn’t come close to your beauty. You shame the moon,” she muttered against her lips, holding her so tight when she kissed her again that Zuri didn’t move when her knees weakened.

All she could do was grip the sand with her toes like it might keep her from drifting away if Elena let go.

But she knew, with terrifying confidence, that Elena would never let go.

The thought was comforting rather than claustrophobic.

Zuri settled into it. Breathed it into her lungs.

Let it race through her bloodstream. Let herself go.

“I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be there yet.

” Marisol’s voice was bright and playful.

From her tone, it was clear she wasn’t upset that they’d kissed without her.

To Zuri’s proud surprise, Marisol was obviously delighted to catch them in a moment.

She trusted that they’d never leave her out.

“Don’t all commitment ceremonies require you to wait to the end for the good part?

” She walked into the tide in her loose, knee-length dress.

Elena scooped Marisol to her side with her arm around her torso, but her hold on Zuri didn’t falter. Holding the bowl tight in one hand, Zuri almost dropped it when Marisol pressed in close.

With one arm around each of their shoulders, Marisol laughed. Threw her head back and laughed like she was in on some joke with the universe. Laughed the way some creatures howled at the moon. Like she was releasing a primal sound planted deeper than a scream.

“I’m getting married!”

Marisol’s shout pierced the night and Zuri’s left eardrum, but she found herself laughing too. They were facing a war at any moment and they were standing in the freezing ocean water in the middle of the night laughing. To any onlooker, they must have made the most fucked up adult baptism ever.

Hazel eyes so bright they were the green of new growth, Marisol settled into a broad grin.

“I’m getting married,” she repeated like she still couldn’t believe it.

“I’m in love and my mom helped me get ready and I don’t care what comes tomorrow, this is the best day of my life,” she announced with the gusto of a Super Bowl MVP going to Disneyland.

Zuri furrowed her brow. She was calling Clara mom now? When the fuck had that happened? She didn’t get the chance to ask before Marisol was talking again.

“I’ve been thinking. Hyphenating our names three ways is probably a lot.” Marisol tossed her hair over her bare shoulder. “So what if we came up with a new one?”

“A new surname?” Elena clarified like she’d also been distracted by Marisol’s mom comment.

Though judging by the dopey look on Elena’s face, she’d gotten caught up in Bambi’s joyful outburst. She was probably trying to figure out how to replicate it so they could bask in a carefree moment with her again and again.

“I’ve always quite liked the sound of Fiasco. ”

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Zuri laughed, entire body buzzing.

She could live a thousand lifetimes and nothing would ever feel as right as the three of them together.

As right as the three of them choosing each other.

Binding themselves together in every way that mattered.

“We’re not appropriating an Italian name,” she decided, gaze hopelessly trained on Marisol.

On the way her hair moved and her skin brightened and just being near her made Zuri want to be a better person.

Marisol, simply, made life worth living.

Made love worth having. She was like the vitamin D that made calcium absorbable. Without her, there would be no them.

Jesus Christ, a little love and I’m turning into Bill Nye the Science Witch.

“Why not? I—”

Marisol interrupted Elena with a chuckle. “Actually, I have one in mind.” She bit the bottom lip she’d painted red and it took all of Zuri’s self-control not to smear it with a kiss. Not to beg Marisol to stain her skin with it.

“What is it?” Zuri smoothed Marisol’s hair back, tucking it behind her ear before the wind could pick it up.

“Durán,” Marisol replied like she was still getting used to the way it sounded in her mouth. “It means to endure.” She swallowed. “To remain.”

There was only the sound of water rushing over their feet.

Of wind jostling palm fronds. Zuri wished she wasn’t holding the freaking bowl so she could hold her.

So she could tell her they weren’t going to die.

That she’d savage the Grim Reaper’s throat herself if he ever dared look in her direction.

“That’s beautiful.” Elena ran hand over Marisol’s back while squeezing Zuri tighter.

“I love that as the symbol of our new family.” She smiled at Marisol with a gentleness even Zuri had never seen.

“I’ve had so many names, and sometimes, it feels like just as many lives.

” She took a deep breath but it didn’t stop the tremble from creeping into her voice.

It was the same weakness blurring Zuri’s vision.

“Marisol, you’ve taught me the names and properties of emotions I never knew existed.

” She smiled, catching a runaway tear with the corner of her mouth.

“From the moment we met, it was…” Elena shook her head like she still couldn’t believe what she was feeling.

“You always felt mine.” She looked at Zuri, triggering overwhelming emotion to rise like a tide in her chest. “Ours,” she corrected softly.

“All my lives have led up to this one. Every moment of fear or agony has been a just price for the gift of you. I would pay it again and again to wear a final name. Elena Durán until my days are no more.”

“God damn,” Zuri muttered, wishing she could wipe the tears from her face on Elena’s shoulder without transferring a pound of makeup with it. “Sometimes, Elena, you really fuck me up.”