The Runaways: Book 1 of the The White Goddess Series

40. Déjà Vu

The bubbles beckoned as Serafina moved closer to the bathtub. The smell of lavender and vanilla wafted from the water. A fluffy towel sat on a stool at the foot of the claw-foot tub next to an old-fashioned wooden bucket.

"Toilet's right in there." Orla pointed to a doorway Serafina hadn't noticed. "There's a trash can there for you too."

Right. Serafina had to throw her pad away before she could get into the bath. "Thanks." She turned towards the doorway, then stopped short at a horrible thought. 

"What's wrong, darlin'?" Orla's face creased in concern.

"Won't it...? Umm...you know." Serafina sent a yearning look at the steaming, aromatic bath. "Get in the bath?"  

"The blood, you mean?" Orla smiled kindly at Serafina's pink cheeks. "No. The counter pressure stops it from flowin' when you're in the water. Once you get out though..." The older woman gave a light laugh. "Don't you worry about that either. First time flows are always light."

"Okay." Serafina managed a weak smile under a wave of relief. She hadn't realized how much she'd been looking forward to getting into the bath until she thought she might not be able to. 

There was hardly any blood on the pad but Serafina wrapped toilet paper around it at leat ten times before leaving it in the empty, unlined trash can by her feet.  

"Just drop them by the door, I'll toss them into the hamper for you," Orla said when Serafina re-emerged, underwear in hand. "You havin' any cramps? Stomachache?" Orla nodded wisely at Serafina's embarrassed nod. "The hot water will help. Come on, now, climb in. Oh my, you poor thing!" She tsked as Serafina slipped off her robe. "You poor thing. I can count your ribs!"

Serafina blushed under Orla's unabashed examination. Getting dressed and undressed in front of other people, she was used to. Being openly stared at while naked, she was not.

"Thanks," Serafina murmured awkwardly, gripping the hand Orla held out to her as she climbed into the claw-foot tub. She nearly lost her balance at Orla's gasp.

"The Snow Moon," Orla breathed reverently, staring at her back. 

"It's fake," Serafina said quickly. The water was hot but she didn't wait to get used to it before sinking down, her tattoo and bony ribs disappearing under the silky white bubbles. "Ahhh..." A long blissful sigh escaped her lips. The water against Serafina's bare skin, the scent of the bubbles, the heat penetrating the tension in her muscles and tired limbs...it felt so good she wanted to cry.

Orla gave a quiet chuckle. "Feel good?"

It was an observation, not a question, and Serafina nodded in silent bliss as Orla moved to a shelf of colourful bottles and selected two.

"I never seen such a realistic one of those...fake tattoos," Orla remarked, settling on the stool behind Serafina, still preoccupied by her tattoo. "You get that from one of the sisters in 'Nawlins?"

"Umm...no. California," Serafina murmured, wishing Orla would stop asking questions. 

"Guess bein' all the way 'cross the country made 'em think they could get away with that." Orla tsked disapprovingly. "Scoot back for me a little there, darlin'," she directed, folded a small towel to lay on the edge of the tub. "Now lay back with your head over the side, that's right."

Serafina obeyed, her skinny legs floating on the bubbly water in front of her. "Get away with what?"

"Creating a representation of the sacred Snow Moon. The coven did a pilgrimage to 'Nawlins a few years ago. They wouldn't even let us take pictures."