by Gail Bridges
“But you set us up! You were laughing at us—all of you!”
“Is that what you think?”
He was dragging me off topic, avoiding my accusation, deflecting my questions with beautiful this and bountiful that. I knew it but I couldn’t do anything about it. Clenching my jaw, I glared at him. “You were mocking us!”
“Was I?” He looked over the wrapping paper-strewn table at our rapt audience. “No, Angela, I was not. As I told you, we were telling jokes. I myself told several amusing tales. Isn’t that right, everyone? We were indeed laughing but not at you. My darling girl, everything isn’t about you. Not all the time, anyway.” He squeezed my hand, then left his there, covering mine. “So what’s wrong, Angela? You’re still scowling. Why are you so unhappy? You can tell me.” His eyes became tender, worried. He leaned toward me, his voice hushed—a best friend, a caring confidant. “Is it Joshua?”
Something let loose inside me, shifted, threw me off balance.
“It is Joshua, isn’t it?”
Something huge that I hadn’t known was there.
“Tell me.”
“Yes! Yes!” I cried. “You’re right! It is Josh! He was making love to me and…he called me Nikki!He called me by her name!” Horrified, I buried my face in my hands.
“Dear, dear. Oh dear. My poor child,” whispered Mr. Abiba. “That wasn’t very nice of him, now was it?”
I shook my head, blinking away tears and hiccupping, more confused than ever. Where had this come from? The Nikki thing had upset me a little but not like this. It didn’t make sense, falling apart over what had happened on the stairs when there was so much else to worry about. Insignificant! A mere trifle! And I wasn’t guiltless either—I’d been having my own trifle, about Geoffrey.
But still. Her name. How could he?
“We’re…we’re newlyweds!” I wailed. And then I was bawling.
Mr. Abiba patted my shoulder.
“Angie—” came Josh’s anguished voice from across the table. He half rose from his chair.
“No, Joshua! Let me handle her!” barked Mr. Abiba, cutting him off. He ran his cool hand over my hair and down my back, sending shivers along my spine. I trembled under his caress, melting with his touch, feeling his warmth wash over me, wishing he would never stop, ever, for the rest of my life. And hating myself for wanting it.
He didn’t stop, of course. How could he? It was how he did his dirty work.
“Ah, feelings.” Mr. Abiba’s voice became even more soothing. He moved his hand under the collar of my shirt and onto my shoulder, skin on skin now, making me fairly moan with pleasure.
And with disgust—and with disgust!
“Emotions,” he continued. “They’re inconvenient, pesky things, aren’t they? Jealousy. Hurt. Betrayal. I quite understand. Please look at me, darling. Dry your eyes. Think about it. Be rational. You and Joshua are in a special place, here at my beloved Inn on the Edge. The rules have changed—there was complete openness and understanding on both your parts.” He leaned in, his cheek pressed to mine, his fingers massaging the back of my neck. I smelled cinnamon on his breath. His voice lowered to a deep, somber register, a sound that made the skin on the back of my neck itch. “Or am I…mistaken about you?”
“No.”
He regarded me.
“You’re not mistaken—you’re right,” I admitted. “Josh asked me first. And I said okay.”
“Then where’s the harm? What was so wrong about you and Josh bringing each other to apexes on the stairwell? As I said, it was lovely. I quite enjoyed your passionate lovemaking, even as I was storytelling with the others. Please, Angela, I wish to know. Tell me—where is the harm?”
Where was the harm? I didn’t know anymore. “Forget it,” I mumbled.
Mr. Abiba sat back in his chair, triumphant.
But then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Zenith do something that brought me back from my befuddled state. She touched her nose twice. Scratched her cheek. Reached into her pocket. Discreetly put her hand to her mouth. Swallowed. A petal! She was sneaking a petal right in front of Mr. Abiba! I perked up, watching her but trying to look as if I wasn’t. Remembering it all, remembering everything but trying to look as if I didn’t. Vane ate a petal too. And Valerian. And Zora. They were all eating the little yellow petals! Josh nodded my direction, almost imperceptibly. He too put his hand to his mouth.
Mr. Abiba’s eyes flickered from my face but he said nothing.
My befuddled state drained away. So it was true, all of it. Mr. Abiba was trying to confuse me but he was a manipulative bastard and something dreadful had happened last night! Josh and I hadn’t been wrong. As soon as Mr. Abiba was finished with me, as soon as he moved on to something else, I’d swallow my own petal, take back my anger, proceed with my escape plans, regain ownership of my thoughts. I straightened my spine, in more ways than one. “I’m okay now,” I told Mr. Abiba, dazzling him with my most winning smile. “I’m just being a baby. You’re right—those hand jobs werefun.” I leaned in, whispering, barely even making a sound. “I didn’t know I had a G-spot!”
“There—you see?”
“I do see.” I took a deep breath. “Oh yes, I do. Mr. Abiba, may I have my present now? Please?”
He stared unblinking into my eyes.
“Please?” A little less sure of myself this time.
A disembodied voice—Mr. Abiba’s—spoke in my head, ice cold, like a slap to my subconscious.
Angela, my little sweetheart. You play with fire! You engage in a battle of wits against someone who is far stronger than you. You’ll only hurt yourself.
I pushed, pushed, pushed against the voice, but my efforts to rid myself of him failed.
He noticed, though. Oh yes, he noticed.
Charming little thing, aren’t you? His lips twitched into something resembling a smile. Angela, I am so far out of your league that you and I are in different universes. You haven’t a chance against me.
“Fuck you,” I whispered.
My head filled with his laughter. But oh, you are so adorable for trying! I do love you, you know.
In an abrupt, almost painful leave-taking, he vanished from my head. I sat there next to him in a cold fury. Ignoring my state, Mr. Abiba shoved the last box in my direction. “Open it,” he said quietly. It was an order.
My movements wooden, I did.
Then I just about fainted dead away.
Tennenbach brushes.
He’d bought me Tennenbach brushes, the entire goddamn set of them. Thirty-six handmade, imported brushes—the company’s complete line. Thirty-six beautiful brushes with their lacquered black handles, arrayed in a velvet-lined cherrywood case, from the miniature pointed brush with the tip made of only nine hairs, on through the full array of flats, rounds, angles and fans, ending with the very background brushes I’d been lusting after. They took my breath away, those brushes. They glowed with potential. They were the most wonderful gift I’d ever received, and that was saying a lot, since I’d been married just a few days earlier and gifts had been raining in on Josh and me for weeks. But it was true. The best gift ever.
Mr. Abiba had chosen well. It was as if he’d known my most cherished, my most intimate desire. Not even Josh had had any idea how much I’d wanted these brushes! Mr. Abiba’s gift tore me apart. How could I hate someone who cared so much, who knew me so completely?
How?
The gift’s only flaw was the golden engagement ring threaded onto the handle of the biggest brush. An old-fashioned ring, sparkling with heavy diamonds and dainty filigree.
I couldn’t deny it. I was crazy about the brushes. But a ring?
If I hadn’t believed it before, I did now. He loved me. And my time was running short.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
And just like that, I knew what I had to do, for I knew him too.
I didn’t make a stink about the ring. I left it in place, not even bothering to take it off the brush handle. Then slowly, thoughtful
ly, I closed and latched the Tennenbach case. I felt light-headed, knowing I had the key to everything. We could do this! We could engineer an escape and set everyone free! It was possible now because I finally got it. I finally understood what made Mr. Abiba tick. It was simple. It was obvious. It was right in front of our faces. He craved love. Attention. Adoration. His hunger for our adulation knew no bounds—he needed our worshipful fawning even more than he needed our sexual exploits.
We would use it against him.
So when the gift-giving was finally over and we were milling around the dining room, admiring each other’s presents, I had no intention of slipping an insipid note to Zenith or to one of the other Guides. I wasn’t going to wait around, hoping someone else would come up with a plan—not with that horrible ring hanging over me. I stood apart, taking deep, fortifying breaths, trying to remember what the voice in my head had said, then deciding it didn’t really matter. I was either going to try or I wasn’t, and not trying wasn’t an option.
All on my own, I came up with a new plan. I figured I’d start the ball rolling by making a speech. But first I had to organize my thoughts. Decide what to say, which words to use. Figure out how to make Mr. Abiba believe my words when he’d seen right through me earlier. I had to trust that his hubris—an Abiba-worthy word if there ever was one—would put blinkers over his eyes and cause him to miss my real intent.
I rapped my knuckles on the table. “Everybody! Listen up!”
Mr. Abiba turned from an animated conversation he’d been having with Rhonda-Lynne. He gazed at me in surprise, his dark eyebrows high, questioning. “Yes? What is it, Angela?”
“I have an announcement.”
“You do?” His voice rose in surprise. “Hush, everyone! Our Angela wishes to speak!”
The room quieted. Everyone stared curiously at me.
I gazed back, steeling myself. Josh held his hands rigidly at his sides, anxious, his mouth pursed. I frowned, wishing I’d had the chance to speak to him about my new plan. He was concerned about what I might say, poor guy, not to mention that he was still upset about the Nikki thing. I would have been worried too, in his place.
Be careful, his concerned eyes told me. I love you so much. And I am truly sorry.
I will,I told him right back. I love you too! And I know you are. So am I.
He smiled then, giving me the fortitude I needed.
I cleared my throat. “Hi, everyone!” I gave a small wave to the crowd. Well, it felt like a crowd. “First I’d like to apologize to Mr. Abiba for my behavior just now. I’m so sorry to have ruined your delightful event.”
Mr. Abiba bowed graciously from the waist, pleased. “No need to apologize. Nothing was ruined. You exaggerate.”
“Thank you,” I said, mustering a fawning look. “I don’t deserve it.” I turned from him, including everyone else in the room. “You see? You see how quick he is to forgive? An example of how good-natured our Mr. Abiba is—just one example of many! He’s generous. He’s entertaining. He’s full of surprises. He has been so kindto us.”
I paused for effect.
Mr. Abiba stood motionless, speechless for once.
I continued my little monologue, my mind working so fast—so fast. “From the moment we arrived at his inn, he’s guided us and taught us. His hand has been in everything we’ve done. His influence is apparent at every moment. Right, everyone? Right? It’s true—you knowit is!” I clasped my hands together over my heart. “As if we needed more proof, look at the gifts he gave us just now. Thoughtful, expensive gifts. Gifts that show how much he cares for us. Gifts that prove he listens to us and supports us. That he encourages our artistic endeavors. Such as my Tennenbachs. I love them,” I said, my breath catching.
I allowed a single tear to roll down my cheek.
“He does! He does encourage us!” said Rhonda-Lynne.
There was movement. It was Zettia, coming in from the kitchen. She went to stand next to Mr. Abiba, taking his hand possessively. He didn’t react. His eyes were on me.
“Who else would do all this for us?” I continued, “No one else—no one! Only our dear friend and mentor. So let’s thank him. Let’s give him a giant round of applause!”
When the cheering had died down, I looked quickly at Josh. He nodded. Zenith stood off to the side with Zora next to her. Their eyes never wavered from my face.
“Mr. Abiba,” I said, holding out my hand, “come stand with me.”
He did. In several long, graceful strides, his robes billowing, he crossed the room. I smiled up at him. He loomed over me, taller even than when he’d held me in the ghost town. Would it ever stop, this creepy metamorphosis he was undergoing? Getting younger, growing taller, becoming ever better-looking—where would it end? When Mr. Abiba looked like Michelangelo’s David? Suppressing a shudder, I took his hand. It was cold. “For all the things you’ve done for us, we want to give you a gift!”
He was genuinely touched, I’ll give him that. It wasn’t fake. I saw the wetness spring to his eyes. I saw his jaw work, the veins throbbing in his temple, the color rushing to his cheeks. I was standing right next to him. I saw.
“Really?” he sputtered. “I don’t know what to say! This is…unprecedented. Unprecedented.” His eyes searched wildly for Zettia, but she wasn’t there anymore. “Entirely unprecedented.”
“Well that’s good!” I said. “It shows how much we adore you. It proves that we love you more than any other guests you’ve ever had. Right?”
“Yes,” he said, blinking, “I suppose it does.”
He reached out to hug me but I pulled away. “Wait a moment, Mr. Abiba. I’m not finished yet. We’ve decided your gift must be a surprise.”
Mr. Abiba narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. “A surprise?”
My heart pounded, making my face flush. “Yes—a wonderful surprise! But we need your help so that we can discuss it in secret. Will you help us to surprise you, Mr. Abiba? Please? We can’t do it without your cooperation.” I laughed then, at my most charming. “Why, it’s impossibleto keep secrets from you, as Josh and I well know.”
A smile tickled the edges of his lips.
Vane stepped forward. “The other Guides and I really want to do this for you.” he said, following my lead, sounding ever so earnest. “A token of our deep gratitude.”
“Please,” I said again.
Mr. Abiba considered our request. Then he swept his hands grandly, taking in the whole room. “Secrets. Surprises. This is most unusual. But of course I will help!” he said, magnanimous. “It will be my pleasure. How may I be of service?”
He’d fallen for it! At least I was pretty sure he had. And if he hadn’t, if he was only agreeing to the request out of morbid curiosity, he must think there wasn’t anything we could do to harm him. Well we would just have to see about that, wouldn’t we?
I glanced around the room, regaining my bearings. Good job, mouthed Josh. Vane gave me an almost imperceptible nod. Valerian was leaning on the table, biting his lip. Zenith and Zora had crept closer and were now standing next to Valerian, looking hopeful.
“How may I be of service?” Mr. Abiba said again.
I took a deep breath. “I need a Tool.”
Mr. Abiba frowned.
“The Storybuilder,” I rushed on before he had a chance to refuse. “All of it.”
“The Storybuilder—of course! What a clever little thing you are. It’s the only way to keep a secret from me. There is no other way.”
“Then you’ll do it? You’ll let us plan your surprise in private?” I held my breath, gazing up at him. I thought the voice in my head might speak up, might say something sarcastic or boastful or threatening, but it didn’t.
Mr. Abiba reached into his robe and pulled out a necklace, a shimmering gold chain made of small, hammered links. Hanging from it was a capsule just like the ones Geoffrey and Logan and Valerian and I had used to get to the ghost town. Mr. Abiba’s personal Storybuilder pendant! He placed the chain over my
shoulders, letting the capsule fall between my breasts.
“Done,” he cried, laughing. “All yours. My gift to you.”
“Thank you,” I breathed.
But he wasn’t finished.
He fingered the capsule, caressing my breasts through my shirt as he did so. The look on his face changed. He leaned in close, his lips brushing my hair, a long arm encircling me, pulling me close, bringing my body alongside his own. And then the voice spoke in my head, just as I’d known it would.
Angela Taylor. At last I hold you again!
I fidgeted in his embrace but there was no escape. Besides, he was holding me by a gold chain around the neck.
He fondled the necklace. This is charming on you, my love. May I call you love? He didn’t wait for an answer but kissed me tenderly on the little hollows above my collarbone. First one then the other. Slowly. Carefully.
I sighed. I couldn’t help myself.
Let the others wait while we chat. I’ve taken care of it—they’ll never know they missed anything. His cool lips nuzzled me behind my ear and kissed me under my chin. I so wish you would wear the ring I gave you. His little finger rested lightly on my right nipple. His thumb rubbed the other. I smelled cinnamon again. Will you wear it? For me?
And for a moment I was lost. I tried not to squirm, because—I’d rather not admit this, such a traitorous body I own—his touch felt wonderful. Breathtaking. Irresistible. My nipples were hardening. My loins were contracting, sending those familiar heat waves down my legs and up my chest.
My love, he murmured.
I could feel it inside me, that love, shining and bright with edges as hard as ice.
Love of mine, listen well. I shall play along with your little game. You are working so very hard to outwit me and I simply cannot bear to ruin your fun.
I stiffened in his arms. Fun? He thought this was fun?
But you ought to know there’s no point. None at all. There’s nothing you can do to me, my love. The sooner you learn that fact, the more content you’ll be. Oh Angela. I would do anything to make you happy. Don’t you know that?
