The Artisans

by Julie Reece

  “Oh, Gideon.” A tear escapes, dropping from my lashes. He curses under his breath. When I shift, he grabs my wrist like a drowning man. I glance down, and as if he fears he’ll hurt me, he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go.

  He lifts my hand to his mouth and speaks against the skin. “Hear me to the end? You promised … No that’s wrong isn’t it?” He tries for a smile and botches it. “Will you please hear me to the end?

  His earnestness slices deeper into my already aching soul. “Yes,” I answer simply, needing to hear his words as much as he wants to say them.

  “Days went by, weeks. Watching you was torture. As an Artisan, I’m taught to make hard decisions and distance myself from the fallout, but you … you were never about justice. You were sent to punish me, I think.” He runs his thumb from the pulse at my throat to my chest and presses his hand against my heartbeat. “The more I watched you, the more my fascination turned to concern, my attitude transformed from master to servant. You make me want to be better.

  “I’m sorry, Raven. No. That’s not true. I can’t honestly say I’m sorry I took you. Not yet, but I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. The worry Ben felt. I need to be honest if there is any hope of having a relationship with you. In New York, the girl at my door … I turned her down because by that point, I already belonged to someone else.”

  Tears flowing freely now, I sniff and wipe my nose on my sleeve.

  “Stop it,” Gideon orders, tone teasing. “That’s just not sexy.” But his eyes glitter, and he’s smiling.

  I shrug and sniff again. “Your fault. And who says we’re in a relationship? When did that happen?”

  “Raven, you and I have been in a relationship from the minute we spoke. I’m just not sure how to define it.”

  Neither am I. I’m not sure what he’s asking for. I don’t know what I can give. What’s real? What’s safe? It’s all happening too fast and I don’t know how to slow it down. “I guess there’s a lot to sort out.”

  “Hmm, true. I expected you might say that, but while you’re sorting it out …”

  He leans forward. I lean away. When he edges further toward me, I see the pattern, but it’s too late. I fall on my back in the tall grass, and he’s hovering above me.

  “There’s something else I want you to think about.”

  The muscles in my stomach tighten as he lowers his head, his lips capturing mine. One hand travels up my thigh. The other is lost in my hair, kneading the roots at my nape. I feel his heart pound out a rhythm against my chest and mine races to catch up. He nips at my jaw. Tongue teases my mouth, demanding entry. My lips part under increasing pressure, and we explore each other, tasting, caressing. Mind blown, colors explode behind my eyelids as he kisses me breathless. My hands slide up his shoulders to lose themselves in his glorious curls. I squeeze handfuls between my fists, push against him. He moans, sending chills through me.

  “You’ll kill me, I swear it,” he growls in my ear. “I’ve wanted, needed this for so long.”

  “How long?” I pant.

  His breath tickles my neck. “Forever?” He moves to my mouth and speaks against my lips. “The whole time you stood in my library yelling your head off, I wanted you.” Gently, he bites at my lower lip with his teeth. My eyes roll back as he leaves a trail of burning kisses along my cheek to my ear. “And last night, while I watched you sleep for hours in my bed, then too. And now.”

  My heart squeezes at the vulnerability in his admission. He kisses me long and hard until I’m dizzy, and boneless. When he finally lets me breathe I whisper, “We should talk.”

  “We should,” he says, and then bites my earlobe.

  I shake my head. Pushing on his chest is like pushing a semi. “Gideon. Stop.”

  Gideon lifts his head. The mismatched eyes always so wary and shuttered are open and unguarded. His smile appears lopsided and a little drunk. It’s a heady feeling knowing my kisses did that to him, but it scares me a little too.

  My hesitation must show because he rolls off me and sits up, yet he keeps my hand firmly in his. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.” He half laughs. “Damn, girl, I’ve never … damn.”

  I know exactly what he means. It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed a boy, but no one’s ever kissed me in the atom-exploding way he just did.

  Gideon’s lashes rise. In the time we’ve been out here, the sky has darkened. Winds kick up, blowing my hair across my neck like a scarf. “Let’s head back to the house and warm up. We can eat our lunch in the kitchen and talk all night if we want to, all right?”

  My shoulders relax. “Okay.” I don’t know if I can handle this guy much longer if we stay. Or if I can trust myself.

  He stands, pulling me up with him. I fall into his arms, which is, I suspect, exactly what he wanted. He kisses me hungrily one last time until my mind flies apart. I’m weak and warm and breathing like a sprinter. When he finally releases me to stagger back toward our vehicle, I hear him mutter. “Magic.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Once our bellies are full of Jenny’s chicken salad, potato chips, and chocolate chip muffins, Gideon and I sink into the overstuffed chairs in his library. Earlier, he pulled the drapes open, so we could watch the sun set out a long row of windows. We ate in silence, due in part to our hunger, but now, as we stare at the stars highlighted in an inky sky, his shoulders tense. He leans toward the window, away from me. A shadow fills the space left between us, and for a moment, I worry the distance is more than geography. Does he regret our talk earlier, sharing the personal details of his life with me? Doesn’t seem likely, but then Gideon isn’t easy to know either.

  He crosses his ankles. His legs stretch out forever on the Persian rug. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Only if you promise to stay over there.” Everything’s moving so fast between us, I have to slow it down.

  A smile. “Why?”

  I answer with mock seriousness. “You know why, I can’t think when you’re doing …”

  “What?”

  “Stuff. To me.” I brush imaginary crumbs from my jeans. “I’m not used to it.”

  He crosses his arms, a satisfied smirk twisting his mouth. “I am hard to ignore.”

  I fight a grin. “Conceited much?”

  “Just honest. Now. Tell me what you’re thinking?”

  The way he looks at me muddles my thoughts. I don’t know what I want, yet, so it seems safer to talk about something other than us. “Tell me about your conversations with Ben.”

  “Ah.” He nods. “All right. The first time, I think he wanted to find out what kind of guy his little girl was staying with, what my intentions were, and basically chew my ass out for putting the both of you into my various prison cells.” Another small smile. “He was so angry, he yelled until a coughing fit made him quit. I answered his questions, asking a few of my own.”

  “Such as?”

  “By the time Ben called me to meet with him I was so obsessively curious about you I could hardly sleep.” He picks up his chair, scooting it over until his legs are near mine. “I asked him a series of pointed questions about his drinking, your living conditions, and your schooling.” Gideon fiddles with the nail heads on the arm of his chair. “His attitude got humble pretty quick. He saw, by his own admission, how badly he’s treated you.”

  Gideon Maddox is a master at getting people to see things his way. Considering Ben’s stubborn streak, his change in attitude says a lot about Gideon’s power of persuasion. I glance at the floor. Neither of us is wearing shoes at this point. His blue-socked feet rub against my toes.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  “Because you’re letting me. Because I find you irresistible and intoxicating … I’m not sure it’s wise for you to know how hard it is for me to sit in my chair and not kiss you.” He grabs the seat of my chair and tugs it closer. “I won’t touch you. I just want to stare at you until you blush again.” The look he gi
ves me can only be described as wolfish.

  What have I gotten myself into? I try to focus. “I still don’t get it. Why would you travel all that way to talk to Ben?”

  “To make him see that you were in a better place than the one he had provided. That what was happening was due to his neglect.” I bristle in defense of Ben. Sure, I can say crap like that, but I won’t hear it from anyone else. “Raven, by that point, I was invested in you. I didn’t understand my feelings yet. Hell, I’m not sure I do now, but when I think of that roach-infested hovel I found you in … Let’s just say he’s not the only one who was pissed about the way you’d been treated.”

  “So, you set him straight.”

  “Yes.” No remorse. No apologies, that’s a Maddox. He slides from his chair to the thick rug at my feet. Stretching out like a cat, his eyes invite me to join him, but I stay put.

  “And the second time?”

  “Come here to me.” Before I know what’s happening, Gideon lunges, grabs my wrist, and pulls me to the floor. I squeal, sure my skull will smack the ground, but he cradles my head in his hand, cushioning my fall.

  I lie on my back looking into his eyes a foot above me. “Are you insane? You almost split my head like a melon!” My heart thunders in my chest. I’m only half kidding, but his face is somber, and that scares me.

  “Never. And I need you close to me before I tell you this next part.” His nose brushes my cheek before his mouth covers mine. The pressure increases and I let him in. His tongue sweeps mine, turning my brain to mush, melting all reason until I forget why I’m here, what we were saying. All the pain and confusion washes away, and for a few, sweet minutes, there is only him and me, and how we lose ourselves in one another.

  He lifts his head and smiles down at me. His expression smug, as though he knows he’s responsible for my gasping breaths and rubber muscles. Curls encircle his face like a golden halo. He is the sun.

  “You broke your promise,” I accuse.

  His chin lowers. “What promise?”

  “The one to stay on your side and not touch or kiss me.”

  “Sue me.”

  I smirk. “I just might.”

  “Listen, I have something difficult to tell you. I don’t want to ruin this day, or hurt you, but you asked me a question, and I owe you the truth.”

  Fear beckons like a familiar friend. My emotions retreat. I’m the turtle inching back into her shell. I’m not sure I want to hear this, but I can’t avoid it either. “Okay.”

  He takes my face in both hands, capturing my gaze. “Ben only mattered to me because he’s important to you. When the doctors explained the seriousness of his condition, he called me. The man understands what’s ahead. They’re releasing him in a week. I told him he can live here, be with you for whatever time he has left.”

  His gaze penetrates mine. The intensity is my undoing, and a lump forms in my throat. It’s not like I haven’t known Ben was sick. He’s been declining steadily for years, buried in drink and depression, but I wouldn’t face it. Somehow, Gideon’s speaking the truth out loud makes it more real. I have no choice. I close my eyes as he leans forward to kiss my forehead. “He’s only got maybe a month or two. I’m so sorry, Rae.”

  I roll to my side and sit up. Gideon moves aside, allowing me my freedom. With a heavy sigh, I say, “I know you are.”

  “Ben wanted to talk to me about you and your future. Actually, I couldn’t shut him up. He talked for over half an hour, before the doctors interrupted. He spoke of your gifts, character, who you are. As if I didn’t already know.”

  I think of Gideon’s background. His education and wealth compared to mine, and I fall woefully short. Has he even considered what those differences may mean if he’s with me? Have I? My scaredy-cat heart retreats a little more. “I don’t think you do.”

  “We’re more alike than you’ll admit. Don’t hide from me, Raven.”

  Hiding is what I do. Panic rises like a wave inside my chest. What of my vow to avoid getting my heart trampled, like my mother? He’s getting too close too fast. I’m still not certain I can trust Gideon, so I turn the discussion around and test him. “Tell me more about the Artisans. Explain how you know magic is real. Because I’ve seen some strange things since I’ve come to live here.”

  His eyes narrow. “Seen? You mean heard. I know. Jenny told me about the slamming doors.”

  “No. I mean yes, I heard the doors slam, but there’s a hell of a lot more going on in this house than a door closing. Talk to me.”

  He stiffens and leans away. A veil of thick lash falls over Gideon’s eyes, obscuring my ability to read him. “There’s nothing to say. Foolish ghost stories fueled by creaking ancient architecture and odd cross ventilation.” He’s lying. His tone grows curt and impatient. “Don’t borrow more trouble, Rae.” His jaw tightens, and it’s clear I’m not the only one hiding. A day that started with clearing the air between us ends up foggier than ever. Suddenly, the need to be alone and think overwhelms me.

  “Look,” I say. “I think we’re both just tired. It’s been a long day.” His eyes flash, and I hold up a hand. “Maybe we should turn in. Get some sleep, all right?”

  He nods, turning from me. “If that’s what you want.” Lost in his thoughts, I can feel him withdrawing from me, too. Closing the shutters on the windows of his heart and shutting me out again.

  His face is shrouded in shadow. The edge of his profile catches in the soft light from the desk lamp. The outline shines like a crescent moon and is just as stunning. His beauty never ceases to amaze me, but the truth is I barely know him. Yeah, I let him kiss me. I wanted his kiss every bit as much as he wanted mine, but do I forgive and forget all that’s happened? How he brought me here and why?

  We can’t be in a relationship if I can’t trust him. I can’t trust him if he lies and keeps secrets from me. And since he won’t talk, I’ll drag Dane and Mags to the attic and find out for myself.

  Without another word, I rise and head for the hallway, wondering how things fell apart so fast between us tonight. In fourth-grade art class, I glued two pieces of construction paper together for a project. Unhappy with the result, I tried to separate the pages, but the glue had dried and the paper tore. I tear that way now. Uneven and ragged, bits of him are permanently attached, embedded in my skin, and pieces of me stick to him.

  My thoughts are all over the road. Go. Stay. I want Gideon to stop me from leaving, fight for me. For us—if there even is such a thing. If he comes after me, claims me, maybe he won’t leave like everyone I’ve ever cared about. My hands fist at my sides as I will him to take my arm, pull me against his chest, and kiss me the way he did earlier.

  He doesn’t.

  My tread falls lightly over the carpet, the hardwood floors, through the door.

  Like everyone else in my life, he just lets me go.

  ***

  By the time I’d made my way downstairs this morning, Gideon had left for the airport. It stung a little he left without seeing me, and I wonder if we made a mistake. Caught up in something that should never have happened, does he regret the things he said; regret kissing me? I push the thoughts away. My plan takes precedence over my hormones and ego right now.

  Dane and Mags have been here all day. We made a big, public show of our visit, eating Jenny’s food, playing Nerf football in the dining room where Jamis was attempting to polish silver. Dane especially enjoyed that.

  We made an equally big deal of my friends’ exit, making sure both Jamis and Jenny saw them go. A half hour later, I’m sneaking to the side door of the veranda to let them back in. Gideon’s only gone overnight, so we’ll have to work fast.

  Cole needs my help. I’m committed to do what I can for him, and he’s waited long enough. I’m convinced Gideon knows more than he’s telling about his role as an Artisan—whatever the hell that is—about what goes on in this house, and according to Cole, the answer lies in the attic.

  “Hur
ry up,” I stage whisper to my friends. If anyone sees us, they’ll be out and I’ll be hoofing it to the attic alone. A shudder rolls through me at the thought.

  “Ouch!” Maggie complains.

  I touch her on the shoulder. “What?”

  “Dane stepped on my foot.”

  “Sorry, but will you please be quiet!”

  “Let him crush your foot and see how quiet you are.”

  Dane snorts. “It’s not my fault you’re a midget.”

  I roll my eyes, starting to doubt the wisdom of my plan. I pick up Edgar to keep him from darting away and head for my room. No way is kitty in on my plan to explore the rooms upstairs. I’ve got enough problems, and this is DEFCON 4.

  A quick stop to lock ‘meow face’ in my room, and we three amigos stalk upstairs to the third floor. I pinched a couple of small flashlights from the stash Jamis keeps in his tool closet before my friends got here this morning. Easy enough.

  I’m first to climb the narrow flight of stairs to a small landing on the top floor. As I shine a light into the gloom, thick cobwebs hang in matted clusters from the beams and doorframes. It’s hella creepy up in here. Spiders dot the webs here and there. Their globulous bodies hang like ebony eight balls. Dozens of spiny legs skitter from the harsh light. The sight sends prickles of fear dancing down each vertebra. I guess Jenny’s cleaning duties are confined to downstairs, but if I had to kill these creatures, the job would stay last on my list, too.