Page 327 of The Spider Queen

I shivered when I thought of what my fate might’ve been if Meghan and her companion hadn’t found me when they did. Who was the man, anyway? He’d never given me his name, but he was more than just a soldier. But Meghan outranked him—that much was obvious.

Opening my satchel, I peered into it. I carefully removed the shattered snow globe, but I hadn’t needed to worry. The dome of broken crystal had mysteriously disappeared. Only the golden base remained. It gleamed in the bathroom light, eerie andshimmery.

I held it up to my eyes and ran a finger around it. There was no evidence of the pearls. I set it aside on the cabinet next to the sink and mirror.

Mirror.

It was time to look at myself.

When my eyes met glass, I gasped. My dark curls weren’t just matted, but had turned into dreadlocks due to the sand, grime, and scorpion blood.

My skin was no longer fair, but a rich bronze from the constant sunburn. It gave me a glimmering sheen and made my green eyes glitter. I couldn’t say I was upset by the change, and I had no idea if it would even last, or if the desert had left a permanent mark on me.

I quickly shucked my ruined clothes. Even the parts of my body that had been covered were golden. My lips were no longer chapped, and though I wasn’t conceited by any means, the last thing I wanted to look like was a leathery handbag. Immortal or not, I didn’t want to suddenly lookold.

The water was slowly cooling, but there was no way I was getting into the lavender-scented bath with my hair looking the way it did. I opened the cabinet drawer and breathed a sigh of relief.

I reached for the pair of scissors. Before I even had time to question my sanity, I began hacking off my locks. They pooled in the sink. I grimaced as I watched the unevenness of the shearing. Hairstylist, I was not.

When there was no longer any hair kissing my shoulders, I finally set the scissors down. My neck looked longer and my eyes seemed bigger.

Since when had I become so vain? I wondered. I didn’t care for it.

I turned away from the mirror and took a step toward the tub, aching for the moment when I slid underneath and washed the grime from my skin.

But I heard a tinny sound, and I looked around the bathroom, wondering where it was coming from. My gaze landed on the base of the snow globe. I frowned in confusion. It wasvibrating, attempting to come to me.

I picked it up and it fell silent. So I set it down. Sure enough, the dissonance started again. I carried it with me to the tub. When it was close to the water, the din became a screech. I dropped the base into the tub.

Water bubbled like witch’s brew. Round and round the bathwater churned, and then it shot up in a geyser. I expected to be doused by hot liquid, but the water swirled through the air to form a contained bubble.

I reached out to touch it, expecting it to burst, but it held its shape. My mouth gently fell open when I realized I was seeing a vision. It was a green and rocky island, covered in mist.

The apparition cleared far too soon, and the water bubble ruptured, splashing back into the tub. The golden base of the broken snow globe fell silent.

I stepped into the tub, glad that it was still hot. I reached for the golden base and pulled it out of the water. I was going to set it aside when it began to pulsate. No sounds came from it, but it was definitely moving. A black ring appeared in the center and grew, shifting into a golden bracelet.

I slid it onto my left wrist and the golden bangle shrank, resting comfortably against my skin. It wasn’t tight, but there was no way it was coming off. We were linked. And maybe, just maybe, I would find a way to the island, after all.

By the time I got out of the tub, I felt fresh, new, and so achingly exhausted I wondered how I was going to eat sitting up. But my stomach growled, and I knew I couldn’t go to bed hungry. I owed myself a good meal, and only after I had it, would I fall into a blissful sleep.

As I dried off with a clean, fluffy, white towel, I glanced at myself in the mirror. I blanched, having forgotten the shorn hair. Apparently super quick healing powers didn’t include hair regrowth.

My skin was still golden, but now it was soft to the touch. Before the lavender-scented bath, my face had been as rough as a pachyderm’s. I was still marveled by the changes in my appearance.

Back in the guest room, I found a silky blue dress hanging on the front of the armoire. I quickly toweled off my hair, and then I slipped into the garment. It reminded me of the costume I’d worn to the masquerade—the masquerade where I’d met Lucifer.

I swallowed down emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. I had left him. And for some inexplicable reason, I had a lot of guilt where he was concerned. Shame, anger, resentment, lust…it all melded together to form a potent cocktail.

He wasn’t dead. He might’ve been annoyed or enraged that he was chained by metal that had once held Prometheus, but that wasn’t my issue.

“Own your emotions,” I said to the empty room. Lucifer’s feelings were his own.

I battered my thoughts of him into submission. I’d examine them later, when I had the time. Maybe.

I slipped on a pair of matching blue silk slippers and then looked around for a scarf of some kind, wishing there was a way to hide my raggedy hair. But there was nothing.

Shrugging, I went back into the bathroom and ran a comb through my damp hair. It was curling in a riotous mess, but it couldn’t be helped. As I attempted to placate some of the more rebellious strands, the bangle on my wrist gleamed.