W
hile I’d been told more than once that I possessed all the delicacy and finesse of a bull in a china shop, as far as Theocoles was concerned, I was determined to take an entirely different approach.
Which is to say that I didn’t approach him at all.
Instead I approached the girl I’d seen watching him.
Or at least I tried to approach her. Though the truth is I didn’t get very far. The moment she saw me grinning and waving from the space just below where she stood, she vanished. Just
poof
and she was gone. But not before I caught the look of pure shock displayed on her face.
Unlike the others, she’d seen me. And at that point, with not much else to go on, it felt like progress. It felt like a start.
I wound my way past the gladiators, ducking and dodging around their fiercely punching swords—stopping beside
the one the girl had been watching, wondering why I’d failed to notice him before.
From this angle he was even taller than I’d first thought. He towered a good foot above the rest, which is probably why he didn’t look nearly as bulky. Though that’s not to say he wasn’t strong, because he was. The circumference of just one bicep alone appeared wider than both my legs put together. And while his skin bore its fair share of battle scars, it was nothing excessive, or at least not compared to what I’d seen on his fellow fighters.
He dropped his sword to the ground and wiped a hand across his brow, clearing it of the heavy sheen of sweat that shone on his forehead, while sweeping aside the tangle of long dark curls that fell into his eyes. Revealing a face that, aside from a nose that had clearly been broken once or twice, was dark and smooth and surprisingly unblemished for someone in his line of work. And I couldn’t help but think that in another time and place—a more modern time and place—he would’ve been splashed across magazine covers and movie screens. But in ancient Rome, his fame was due solely to the grisly acts he’d committed with his sword.
Sensing I had only seconds to spare before he returned to his drills, I was just about to speak when he turned to me with eyes the color of deep gleaming topaz, causing the speech I’d prepared to sputter and spurt into an
embarrassing garbled-up mess that went something like: “Um, hi. Excuse me for bothering you.” I waved my hand back and forth in a lame attempt at friendliness. “But would you happen to be Theocoles … uh, you know … the one they call the Pillar of Doom?”
He grunted, cleared his throat, and had the audacity to hock a big fat loogie directly at me.
A big fat loogie that landed in the exact same spot where I’d stood just seconds before I gasped and jumped out of the way.
I glared between him and the puddle of
ick,
shouting, “How
dare
you!” I shook my head, felt my cheeks grow red. “I mean, seriously! While I get that you’re from another, far more
barbaric
time in history—while I get that because of that we may not be on the same page where manners are concerned—still, you cannot tell me that you truly don’t realize just how incredibly rude that was!”
He stooped toward the ground, scooped a mound of dirt into his hands, and rubbed it into his palms before retrieving his sword and wiping the handle as well. Acting like he didn’t see me. Acting like he hadn’t just totally insulted me in the very worst way.
I was just about to really let him have it, when a soft voice drifted from behind me and said, “I’m afraid he cannot hear you.”
I turned to find the girl from the balcony.
“Neither can he see you. So please, do not take offense.” She glanced between the gladiator and me. “Theocoles sees only what he chooses to see. You and I are invisible to him.”
I frowned. Scowled. Slewed my gaze first his way then hers, saying, “From what I can tell, I’m invisible to everyone but you. What gives?”
I folded my arms across my chest and gave her a thorough once-over, unable to keep from noticing how her nearness only seemed to magnify just how different we were. And though I tried not to feel small, and insignificant, and completely outclassed by her presence, it was no use.
She was tall—I was puny.
She was pretty—I was forced to settle for cute.
She was curvy and girly—I was skinny, scrawny, and as shrimpy as it gets.
And even though her clothes were completely outdated, there was no denying her gorgeous red gown definitely worked in her favor.
There was no getting around it—she completely and totally eclipsed me in every conceivable way. She was a bright, shining star, while I was a planet so small and insignificant it had never been named.
My thoughts were interrupted by the lilt of her voice saying, “Unfortunately, those you see here are as enslaved in
their afterlives as they were in their physical lives.” She paused, her perfect pink mouth pulling into a frown. “They refuse to let go and move on.”
I quirked a brow in response, it’s not like she’d just revealed something new. If anything, it was just the same ole same ole—definitely a scenario I was all too familiar with. All of the ghosts I’d met so far had been enslaved by their lives and unwilling to let go of their pasts—and believe me, they all claimed to have a very good list of reasons for choosing to linger. Not unlike me back when I was haunting the earth plane.
“And you?” I asked, refusing to let her off quite so easily. “Why are you still here? Why haven’t you moved on?” I paused, waited for her to reply. But instead of answering, she bit down on her lip and quickly looked away. “I mean, I’m assuming you know about the bridge that leads to the other side,
right?
” I cocked my head to the side, which caused my hair to fall into my eyes. But the longer I waited for her to speak up, the more silence I got. “I mean, it’s not like
I’m
going to take you there or anything. It’s not like that’s any of my business. I’m just curious. That’s all.”
I shoved my bangs back off my face and cast an anxious glance all around. The Council was privy to every single thing that went down, leaving me to hope they’d at least caught on to the fact that I’d finally learned my lesson. That
I had no further interest in making up my own assignments, much less catching souls that weren’t mine to catch. Theocoles was my one and
only
concern, the only one I’d be crossing over on this particular visit to Rome.
Still, I figured it couldn’t hurt to at least
mention
the bridge. Just in case she didn’t yet know about it … or something.
She turned, her dark eyes narrowing as she regarded me closely. Her hand caught in her hair, twirling a tendril around the very tip of her finger. She said, “I’m surprised they sent you.” She continued to scrutinize me. “You appear much younger than all of the previous Soul Catchers.
Much
younger, in fact.”
If she was trying to insult me, well, it didn’t work. I just shrugged it right off, or at least that’s the impression I struggled to give.
“The last one they sent was much older. Much bigger too, for that matter—blended right in with the rest of them. Maybe a little
too
well come to think of it, seeing as he never did find his way out …” Her lip curled as she tilted her head toward the crowd of grunting, lunging gladiators. Her stream of dark curls swinging over her shoulder as she added, “He’s still here. Somewhere. Every now and then I run into him. Or should I say
them
. Make no mistake, it’s not like he’s the only one who lost his way …”
She was doing her best to intimidate me, and I needed
her to know right from the start that while I may look young, and scrawny, and pretty much completely incapable of dealing with any ghost, much less a gladiator ghost—for whatever unfathomable reason, the Council saw fit to assign me. Which clearly meant that despite all outward appearances, I had myself some major Soul Catching mojo working in my favor.
“I know about the others,” I said, crossing my arms before me.
“Do you?” She looked me over, the words spoken so softly I could just barely hear them. Her voice gaining in pitch when she added, “Well, in that case, I’ll just say that you are the very first girl that they’ve sent to these parts—ever. Which is something I find very interesting, don’t you?”
I looked her over, screwed my mouth to the side, acting as though I found it only mildly interesting, if that.
Watching as her cheeks widened, blooming into a sudden smile as she said, “Though, who knows? It’s so very odd it might actually work!” Her face radiant, beaming, but only briefly—the illusion quickly fading when she added, “Though it’s really quite doubtful, to be sure.”
I’d heard enough. I mean, it’s not like I’d traveled all that way to win her vote. My confidence was shaky enough, the last thing I needed was some sparkly princess in a fancy red dress to grind away what little I had left.
I shook my head, narrowed my gaze, and was just about to fire off some well-worn cliché, like:
Yeah, well, don’t judge a book by its cover!
Or:
Good things come in small packages!
Or:
You ain’t seen nothing yet—prepare to be amazed!
But before I could get there, she moved toward me. Bridging the small gap between us, she offered her hand, and said, “Still, there is only one way to know for sure.”
I gulped down a mouthful of hot, dusty air and stared at her waiting, outstretched hand. All too aware that I’d just reached the part that usually, if not always, wound up dragging me headfirst into a whole heap of trouble.
And yet, that still didn’t stop me from smiling as I took it in mine.
I mean, it was just like she said,
there was only one way to know for sure,
and I had to start somewhere.
W
hile I’m not exactly sure what I expected to happen—I did expect
something
to happen. In the past, that sort of hand-to-hand contact always led to me finding myself trapped in some super scary world that I had to fight like heck to bust my way out of. Which is why I was a little more than surprised to find us still standing there, hands still clasped together as the girl smiled and said, “You may call me Messalina.”
I nodded, continuing to brace for the big, dramatic
thing.
But when it didn’t happen, when it turned out to be just your standard, everyday kind of handshake, I freed myself from her grasp and said, “I’m Riley. Riley Bloom. And while it’s been really great talking to you, the thing is, I have a job to do. I really need to find a way to get through to Theocoles. So, if you have any helpful hints, any sort of insider info, I’d
love to hear it. But if not …” I shrugged, figuring there was no need to mince words. “Well, then we should probably say our good-byes since I really need to move this thing along.”
I’d just barely finished, when she did the most unexpected thing: Instead of getting mad, or huffy, or completely offended—she laughed at me.
She stood right there before me and laughed in this gorgeous, girly way I would never be capable of no matter how hard I might try.
When I laughed, my cheeks spread too wide, my eyes went all squinty and watery, my nose turned bright red, and if it was something really funny, well, this horrible sound—a cross between a snort and a honk—would find its way out, which usually just got me going again. In short, there was nothing pretty about it.
But when Messalina laughed, it was reminiscent of wind chimes tinkling in a light summer breeze. Her shoulders lifted in a way that made her long glossy curls bounce and sway, as her cheeks flushed the color of rosebuds, and her eyes sparkled in delight.
It was almost too much.
Almost enough to make me dislike her right there on the spot.
Bringing her heavily jeweled fingers to her mouth, she
finally quieted down enough to say, “Are you
always
in such a big hurry?”
I took a moment to consider, then said, “Yes. Pretty much always.” Unable to see what was so funny.
But when her eyes met mine the weirdest thing happened—all the annoyance that just a moment before threatened to consume me, just melted away. The feel of her gaze so comforting, it was like slipping into a warm, inviting bath.
“Well, that’s too bad,” she said. “That just won’t do around here. Ever hear the saying:
When in Rome, do as the Romans do
?”
I shrugged, stared at my feet, not wanting to let on that I hadn’t. Not wanting to look completely stupid in her eyes.
“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.