The Artisans

by Julie Reece

  Footsteps to our rear send my heartbeats skipping.

  “Jennings? What is the meaning of this?” Jenny and I angle to face the staunch form of Jamis. His expression is a seething mass of disapproval. The old man’s eyes and mouth are mere slashes in his face. “Stop this immediately. Have you completely lost your senses?”

  Jenny’s hands slam down on her hips, keys rattling against her apron. “Just come to them, I think, old friend. I can’t be a party to the secrets any longer. The girl knows. One of them hurt her last night, an innocent. It’s time to right the wrongs been done to them people. And for Gideon’s sake, too.”

  “It is precisely for Mr. Maddox that we remember our place and honor our heritage, our employer’s wishes. I must insist you go no further.”

  “Or what? You arrogant little beanpole of a man. Insist all you want to. Help or don’t, it’s all the same to me. I’m doing this!” She spins and places the key in the lock.

  “Mr. Maddox shall hear of this immediately.” His voice shakes with anger. He storms from the pantry, I assume to fulfill his role as tattletale supreme.

  The housekeeper’s hands tremble as she twists the key. Despite her bold words, it’s clear she’s scared witless. She’s not alone.

  Hinges creak as Jenny swings the door open. There’s a light switch on the wall and Jenny flips it on. “We don’t go down here,” she says. “No one does.”

  As this was my big idea, I go first. The steps are as narrow as the doorway, and covered in fine, white dust. I descend into dank air at least ten degrees cooler. My muscles tense, ready for whatever might be lurking nearby. A dusty, concrete floor waits below. There’s a faint smell wafting up the stairs, a mix of chalk and ammonia.

  The steps behind me groan under Jenny’s weight. She breathes like a freight train, but I’m thankful for her presence. It’s Spooky 101 down here. Since I’ve been living in one, I vow to never watch another horror movie as long as I live.

  Dim light from the bulb at the top of the stairs trickles into the cellar. Like the attic, there is a lot of old junk stored in the corners. An eerie feeling of déjà vu washes over me. I shiver as the tiny hairs on my body stand on end. The deeper into the cellar I go, the colder the air.

  “I can’t go any further,” Jenny whispers. Though her voice is low, it echoes around the room. “Forgive me, child. I’ll wait by the stairs, but I simply can’t … look.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t be long,” I say, hoping it’s true.

  “There,” she points to the wide arch on the far side of the room. “Through there.”

  As I shuffle forward, my feet are as heavy as fifty-pound weights in mud. My lungs squeeze the air from my chest, and my palms sweat. I second-guess the state of my mental faculties, because a person has to be crazy to go peek inside the forbidden room. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping to accomplish. Somehow, I believe the rest of the puzzle is in this cellar. Adrenaline zings under my skin as I pass under the arch and onto a dirt floor.

  I stop; hold my breath. I’ve been here before. In a dream, or through Desiree’s eyes, I don’t know. The caskets are placed as they were then. Stacked on top of one another, there must be two dozen wooden coffins. With a tremor in my step, I inch closer. Waiting, fearing some unseen force will consume me, and my fingers will shred open the first box.

  God, you’ve got to help me out here.

  I need a crowbar to pry the coffin lids up, like the one Dane used to get the door open upstairs. Glancing around, there’s little in this room besides the hideous caskets, but then I see a hammer resting on the end of one box. I grab the handle. Leaning over, I hook the claw end under the lip of the first lid. My bladder gets funny when I’m nervous, and I wish I had peed before coming down here.

  “Raven?”

  I jerk upright. “Crap!” Jenny’s voice calling from the other room nearly takes care of my need to pee. “I’m okay, just give me another minute.”

  When I return to my task, Cole’s face looms two inches from mine. “Crap!”

  “Raven?”

  “Damn it, Cole, don’t do that!” I lift my chin. “It’s okay, Jenny. Cole Wynter is here with me.”

  “Jumping Jehoshaphat,” she mutters. “You can see him?”

  “Yes, Jenny. He’s going to help me. Give us a minute, all right?” Jenny mutters again, but I can’t decipher the words. My focus switches to Cole. “You are going to help me, aren’t you?”

  He reaches out and touches my cheek. When I cover his hand with mine, mine goes right through. His dark eyes are round and soft. His mouth tugs up one side, barely discernible, but I see it. “Thank you, Raven. You are the angel sent to free me. If I ever get out of here, you’re coming home with me. I’m going to take care of you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not—”

  A door slams upstairs. “Jennings!” Gideon’s rough shout reverberates through the cellar. “How dare you.”

  I give Cole a hard stare. “Wait for me. This isn’t over.” I turn and race for the other room.

  Gideon towers over Jenny, leaning heavily on his cane. His face is a mask of fury. Nostrils flaring, brows furrowed, he looks like a bull that’s been stuck with barbs. “You will go upstairs, pack your bags, and leave my house immediately. Do you understand?”

  Jenny faces away from me. Head bowed in front of her employer. Soft sobs reach my ears. Her shoulders shake. “I know nothing else. There’s no one but you and Jamis. Please don’t send me away, sir.” Her gentle weeping turns to a wail. She slides to her knees and grabs Gideon around both ankles.

  His shoulders square. “You know the consequences for betraying the family. What would my father say if he were here? What would he do! Just go, I release you. And for God’s sake stop making a scene.”

  I’ve heard enough. “Stop it!” I say, approaching the pair but talking to him. “It’s not her fault. Will you look at her? I asked Jenny to bring me here.”

  Gideon’s eyes narrow, signaling a warning. “Stay out of this, Raven.”

  “I won’t. This is wrong.” I put my hand on Jenny’s head. “Go on, Jenny, make a scene.” My gaze flashes up, connecting with his. “You don’t need to make this easy for him.”

  Gideon’s chest expands. “Jennings, pack your bags. You have an hour. Jamis will drive you wherever you choose, but your position here is terminated.” He reaches down and lifts Jenny to her feet with one hand. She’s sniveling. I worry the old girl will hyperventilate, or have a stroke, or something.

  “Don’t.” I shove against his shoulder. “What’s the matter with you? I said this is my fault, I forced her to bring me down here.”

  He pulls Jenny, who still stands between us, to the side. Throwing his cane down, he glares at me. His eyes glitter with fury. His hair falls over his blue eye, leaving the green to challenge me. “This is none of your business! You have no right to interfere, no right to be here at all.”

  Anger fills my gut until I’m sick with it. I lift my face and stare him down. “I agree. But I am here, and who’s at fault for that? Huh? The great Maddox Empire. Controlling, manipulating … hypocrites. Self-righteous, self-serving … ugh! You are nothing but a bully, Gideon Maddox.”

  He blinks as though I slapped him. He takes a step back and stares at the ground. I wrap an arm around Jenny and whisper into her ear. “Go to your room and wait there for me. Don’t pack. Don’t do anything yet, all right?” She nods and sets off for the staircase.

  Gideon still watches the floor with a stunned expression. He rubs his jaw. “God, I …” He raises his gaze to mine. The pain shining through eviscerates me.

  “Can’t we talk about this?”

  He shakes his head no. With a grace that is his alone, he kneels to retrieve his cane. When I reach for him, he jerks away, following the path Jenny took up the stairs.

  “Wait … Gideon?” He ignores me, taking the steps two and three at a time. Confusion swamps my brain. I he
sitate, unsure whether to return to Cole and the others trapped in their wooden prisons or pursue Gideon.

  My heart, however, knows exactly what to do.

  And I obey.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Without looking back, I jog up the stairs, through the kitchen, and down the hall. Unsure how long I stood downstairs contemplating my next move, it appears it was long enough for everyone to disappear. I assume Jenny went to her room. Maybe Gideon went to his.

  “Gideon!” I call, as I pound the steps to the second floor. My mind is a salad toss of anxiety and anger. I’m worried about what he’s thinking, what he feels for me, and what he plans to do next. Those thoughts ping-pong with frustration over the way he treated Jenny. Gideon Maddox must be the single most pig-headed guy on the planet.

  Pushing through the double doors to the west wing, I head down the wide hallway. “Gideon?” No answer. I’m running now. My breathing escalates, part exertion, part anticipation. I have to convince him to release his prisoners. I believe his emotions are somehow walled away behind this fake legacy his father left. How do I make Gideon see it’s an empty inheritance, nothing but pride and guilt? He let me in for a little while. Maybe he will again.

  I burst into the office where I was caught snooping weeks ago. He’s here, sitting at his desk, blond head buried between his hands. The sight stops me at the door. My heart plummets, smacking the cold floor of my stomach. “Hey …” I can’t seem to say more.

  Pain isn’t a stranger to me, but when Gideon lifts his head, and his shining eyes rise to meet me, it’s like a kick to the gut. The wariness is evident, the protective shield back up in spades. “What do you want, Raven?” His voice is smooth, distant. It’s the hardened guy I met in the library downstairs eons ago. The one who kissed me breathless in the meadow by the river is gone.

  “We have to talk about this. Settle things.”

  His hands sink to the desktop. “No. We don’t.” The clock above Gideon has stopped running. It occurs to me that they always do.

  I’m way too chicken to ask him about us, so I try something less scary. “Why do clocks stop when you walk in a room?”

  He raises a brow. “Noticed that, did you? A side effect of anyone who becomes an Artisan. I don’t know why. My father may have told me, but I have no memory of it. He died before completing my education. He died before completing many things.”

  The conversation isn’t going as planned. I swallow and try a different subject. “What about Jenny?”

  He eases back in his chair and swivels to face me, so calm, so serene. His father’s training was certainly thorough. The guy’s so beautiful with his quiet grace and stunning bone structure. It’s all I can do not to throw myself into his arms. Not that he’d welcome that from me right now.

  “You win.” His smile is stiff and doesn’t soften the hard glaze in his eyes. “Funny, that hurt less than I thought it would. Jenny will stay. You will go. Today. I release you, Raven. You and Ben are freed from our agreement.”

  You will go. Each word is a slap. The guy I vowed to hate is the one I love. The one I dreamed of leaving has … what were his words to me? … won me with a love that binds my heart—irrevocably. Chains softer than silk, stronger than iron. Right. What a fool you are, Raven. How many girls do you think he’s used that line on before you? Triple loser because I want what I can’t have. He’s still worth fighting to save, even if we won’t end up together.

  I march to the edge of his desk. “What about the others?” He arches a golden eyebrow. “You know who I mean. Cole and the others in the photos. Let them go.”

  “Cole?” he sneers. “Not likely.”

  “Why? Because your father wouldn’t like it or because you’re holding a grudge?” I’m torn. Cole hurt Gideon but saved me. Despite all that, it’s still wrong to hold them hostage. “Your allegiance is to the wrong people. A bunch of dead guys that spread their brand of vigilante justice like a disease, infecting everyone they deemed unworthy. You worst of all. Your life is yours to live as you decide. Let go of your hate!”

  “I can’t. It’s all I have left of him. Don’t you see? It’s all that I am.”

  “Ugh!” I want to scream because he’s so much more than that. “No. God redeems. He forgives. You can start over and build a new legacy.”

  He slams his hands down on the desk. “No. I can’t.” The leather squeaks as he shifts in his wingback chair. With an air of impatience, he pulls drawers in his desk out and punches them shut again.

  I push him harder. “Yes you can. I’ll prove it to you. How do we release them?”

  “No idea.”

  “What?”

  “My father was taken from me early, Raven.” His tone is sharp and merciless as a blade. “He showed me the process of incarceration, not release.”

  “I’m sorry. About your father, Dane told me he—”

  “Killed himself? Is that what he told you?” I nod. “Of course, he would say that. That’s what the coroner ruled, what the papers reported, but it’s not what happened. My father didn’t just die, Raven. He was murdered.”

  Letting out an uneven breath I say, “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.” He nods. “Desiree wanted my father’s money, and she wanted me.” He tosses a folder onto his desktop. “When he limited her spending allowance, they quarreled. That’s when Desiree started coming on to me. Small things at first, she’d hug me a little too tightly, or for too long. When she started wearing inappropriate clothes in my presence, I avoided her, finally telling her straight out to stay the hell away.” Gideon pulls out his gold coin and runs it over his fingers. “Eventually, she put antidepressants in Father’s scotch. I know because she told me afterward—when I wouldn’t sign my inheritance money over.”

  My head droops. “What …” My tongue refuses to work. “I’m sorry.” My condolence sounds lame, even to my ears. I can’t express what I feel. “There aren’t words.”

  “No.” His expression softens as he watches me. “She is the only person I’ve ever used the camera on. I couldn’t let her get away with murder. After weighing my options, I contacted her, telling her I’d reconsidered her offer. She met me here, sat in that very chair.” His chin jerks toward a chair opposite his desk. “I told her I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. How I couldn’t live without her. I explained she could have the money, the jewelry, everything, if only she’d come back to me.”

  Gideon’s words are calculating. I shiver at the efficiency of his plot.

  “It took some time to convince her, of course, but I can be very persuasive. I fed her gluttonous ego lies until her vanity was so bloated she believed every word I said. The Maddox women knew nothing of the camera and its abilities. Desiree leaped at the chance to have her portrait taken by me.”

  My fingers itch to touch the bruises hidden by my hair. Desiree’s face swims in my memory. Her venomous words fill my ears. Dead, doll-like eyes stare at me, wishing for my death.

  Gideon’s eyes darken, narrow, and I know he’s not listening. “I will never release her. Them.” There’s violence to the quiet in his voice. The contrast turns my blood to ice.

  “Then you’ll spend the rest of your life alone and threatening people like Ben.” I straighten. As bad as I feel for him, nothing’s changed. There was never going to be any us. “Manipulating people like me for your own selfish gain. I’m sorry for you, Gideon. You’ll never know how much because your leg is not what’s twisted about you, it’s your mind. You’ll end up bitter and wasted, become exactly like the people who broke you.”

  The color drains from his face, but I won’t recant. His brow creases as he refocuses on my throat. “Raven …? What the hell went on here yesterday? Tell me what happened to you.”

  Un-uh. You don’t throw me away and then get to act all concerned and protective. Not falling for that one again. “That’s none of your business now.”

  A muscle twitches in his cheek
. “The hell you say.” His tone is mostly growl.

  “Goodbye, Gideon.” I’ll have to free the ghosts on my own. As I step away, my peripheral vision catches his movement. I need to stop underestimating him.

  I bolt for the door, afraid he’ll catch me, afraid of what I’ll become if he doesn’t. A heartbeat later, his fingers wrap my arm, digging into my flesh. “Raven, wait. I can’t go through with this. I didn’t mean it.”

  “Let me go.”

  “I can’t. I won’t lose you.”

  “It seems there’s a lot of things you can’t do, or won’t.” My heart still lies on the floor of my stomach, barely beating. Much more of this will kill it altogether. When I try and wrench my arm free, I’m knocked off balance. Gideon falls with me, and I end up on the floor, staring at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

  His face appears, obscuring everything else. “Forgive me.” His eyes focus on my exposed throat. “My God, are you all right?” He brushes my hair aside. His fingers linger on my skin, burning the memory of his touch everywhere. “What have I done …?” His fingers skim my lips. “Can we talk about this?”

  Now? I wonder where the chatty side of the guy was ten minutes ago when I begged him to talk, but the fight’s gone out of me to refuse him.

  Gideon’s fingers sink into my hair as he cups both cheeks, forcing me to look at him. “I screwed up again, I know that.” His warm breath falls across my skin with his words. The tortured look in his eyes melts my liver or some other vital organ I’ll probably need later on. “Every single thing you said about me is true. I didn’t know … how to handle it. But you’ve made me question everything I knew from that first day, haven’t you?” His gaze travels over my face. A storm clouds his eyes as his gaze drops to the bruises on my neck. “What happened to you? Please …”

  My fingers touch my throat where Desiree choked me. “She did this because she thought it would hurt you.”

  He nods once before answering. “She thought right. But she won’t ever hurt you again. Count on it.” His gaze hardens, voice so distant the threat seems more vow than promise.