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Goddess Summoning 4 - Goddess of the Rose.doc
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It only took a second for her to work the Band-Aid free from her left palm. The cut was already scabbing

over, but her flesh was still pink and tender from the knife wound. Mikki rested her right thumbnail against

the little slash line. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and pressed her nail into the wound, forcing it

open again.

Mikki sucked her breath in at the sudden pain. But when she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see the

darkness of fresh blood flowing into her palm. With a grimace, she dunked her hand into the pool of water

held by the cooler.

She certainly had a lot of disinfecting to do when she got home.

Trying not to think about how much her palm ached, she began dragging the full cooler across the stony path

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back to the bed of sick roses. Once inside the construction area, she straightened, unsure of her next move.

“There are so many of you,” she told the bushes. It was obvious that she couldn’t pour the usual amount of

blood-tinged water on each bush. She felt her lips twitch in a sarcastic smile. She’d have to open a damn vein

for that—and that was probably not a very good idea.

Assuming a businesslike stance, Mikki put her hands on her hips and addressed the roses. “How about I just

sprinkle you guys with some of this water?” The bushes didn’t answer, so Mikki counted that as a yes.

Bending, she used both hands and began scattering the blush-colored water over the roses that surrounded

her. Snapping her wrists and flicking the liquid off her fingers soon became a game. The cool evening breeze

mixed with the darkness and the sweet scent of roses and earth. Mikki laughed and sprinkled the blood-kissed

water all over, pretending she was a garden fairy raining magic on sleeping children.

Mikki was breathless and smiling by the time she had finished. She studied the damp bushes. It might just be

her overactive imagination, but she was sure they were responding already. In the dim, watery light, she

swore she could see the limp leaves straightening and the wilting blooms healing. There was more water in the

cooler than she had anticipated, and she bent to pour it out onto the nearest bush when a flicker of light

caught the corner of her eye as it danced over the guardian statue.

Why not? Mikki thought. Glancing around to make sure she was still alone, she carried the almost-empty

cooler quickly to the marble statue.

“Your roses deserve a little extra boost, too,” she told the silent beast. “After all, you’ve been watching over

them a lot longer than I have.”

Grinning, she dunked her still bleeding hand into what wathe‘into whats left of the pink water. With practiced

motions she rained drops over the roses that surrounded the statue. When she was finished she stashed the

cooler near the wall next to where she had left the full bag of garbage. Noticing that she had inadvertently

sprayed some of the water on the statue, she patted one of the creature’s big hands.

“Oops, I didn’t mean to get you wet,” she said fondly. “But I’m pretty sure you understand. I mean, please.

We, more or less, have the same job. You watch ’em—I watch ’em.”

Digging into her purse, she retrieved a Kleenex, which she wrapped around her left palm, wincing at the

tenderness of the reopened cut. She didn’t really care about the pain. It had been worth it. She was certain

now the roses would survive the winter to thrive and bloom again next spring.

With feet that felt light, she retraced her path out of the third tier, passing under the stone arch and climbing

up the stairs. With languid, lazy steps, she walked through the second tier, staying close to the side of the path

so she could occasionally reach out and brush her uninjured hand gently over a delicate bloom.

The gardens were absolutely deserted, and Mikki imagined that they were hers—that she was a great lady

who lived in a huge mansion and whose only job was to tend to and enjoy her roses.

The night seemed to agree with her. There was no noise at all, not even any echoes of the actresses from

Woodward Park, which relieved her because it meant they must have finished and gone home. Thankfully,

she wouldn’t have to face them again.

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