Chapter 12 #2
Heart racing, she pushed away from the storage room door and approached Garden’s door instead.
It was unlocked—Mr. Grimm had the key on him, no doubt.
She reached for the latch, turned it, and stepped through the portal into the gold and green warmth of Garden’s atmosphere.
Hastily, she shut the door behind her, blocking out that angry voice and the relentless pounding.
Breathing out a sigh, she rested her head back against the door slats behind her and whispered, “Green Mother save me!” For a moment, she couldn’t do anything but stand there, eyes closed.
Her chest heaved as she recovered her breath.
Then, slowly, it occurred to her—it was quite hot actually. She frowned. It wasn’t just that she was flushed and overexcited. No, the air was truly warm. Almost oppressive.
“Miss Talbot?”
Her heart leapt up into her throat, trying to choke her.
Swallowing it back with an effort, Luna opened her eyes and pushed herself away from the door.
Mr. Grimm approached up the path. Of course, she knew he was out here, but, well, Garden was such a big, sprawling sort of place.
She’d thought he would be deep inside somewhere, and she wouldn’t necessarily have to interact with him.
Her intention was simply to wait until the man at the shop door grew bored and went away. So much for that plan.
“I—I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Grimm,” she said, her voice a little high and tight.
He looked . . . oh, damn him, he looked a right mess.
Sweaty and dirty, wearing only his undershirt and suspenders over mud-stained trousers.
His jacket and shirt were slung over his arm, his hair fallen across his forehead, and she couldn’t deal with it right now.
She couldn’t deal with this sudden rush of downright painful attraction jumping in her veins.
Luna stared down at her feet, biting her lip.
“Miss Talbot?” he said again, that posh and ever-so-controlled voice of his such a contrast to his state of disarray. “Has something happened?”
She felt his approach. The atmosphere of his presence was all too palpable.
Luna swallowed hard. Perhaps it would have been better if she’d stayed in the shop and simply dealt with the fallout of that altercation.
“No, it’s all right, Mr. Grimm,” she managed to say, her voice a little rough. “It’s just . . . it’s just . . .”
He drew nearer. Though she wouldn’t look at him, Luna could feel how he stretched out a hand toward her only to stop and withdraw once more. Because heaven forbid he should ever touch her again!
“Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice emerged in a deeper register than usual, stirring something in her gut. “Tell me how I can help.”
Despite every intention not to look at him, Luna’s gaze flashed to meet his.
She stared into those sad blue eyes, half-shadowed.
The light of Garden’s sun shone behind his head, creating an aura around his pale hair.
He was such an unexpectedly beautiful man.
Funny that she hadn’t thought so from the start.
Her original impression of him had been one of such shyness and reticence, and that impression had colored their interactions for so long.
But now she knew him better. Now, in his quietness, she heard firmness and conviction.
In his reticence, she felt the restraint of power far greater than anything she’d initially guessed.
And in her recognition of his strength, he was transformed in her eyes into something . . . rather magnificent, actually.
Realizing she’d been staring for some moments without speaking, Luna drew a ragged breath. A drop of sweat rolled down her temple. The heat really was intense, wasn’t it?
“It’s old man Marlin,” she blurted.
Mr. Grimm frowned. “Who?”
“Sulivan Marlin. The proprietor of Mystic Infusions.” Luna wetted her lips.
“The teashop, you know. Over on Nettleton Lane?” She’d had an encounter with the man, months ago, at the end of summer.
On the very day she’d blown through the door of The Arcane Bouquet, in fact.
She’d ventured out into that stormy weather with the purpose of applying for a job at Mystic Infusions.
Mr. Sulivan Marlin had been quite delighted with her and conducted an enthusiastic interview on the spot.
Luna had just begun to hope that her luck was about to turn .
. . when he’d spied her heptagram tattoo.
All smiles and congeniality had vanished in an instant. Rather than a job offer, Luna had found herself turned out onto the stormy sidewalk with Mr. Marlin’s voice wheezing behind her: “And don’t you darken my doorstep again, you hear me?”
Luna shuddered. She had to pass Mystic Infusions on her way to work every day and always turned her head away from the windows, taking care that her face was hidden behind her hat.
No doubt Mr. Marlin had been aware all this while of the tea witch at The Arcane Bouquet, slowly but surely leeching his business.
The Silly Young Things didn’t like the readings they got at his place anymore, which they claimed were nothing but “tall dark strangers” and “mysterious liaisons.” Nothing authentic.
He also served Twiglings brand tea which, while very nice quality, was simply not on a par with Luna’s freshly-harvested, home-blended brews.
Still, until a few days ago, there hadn’t been a sign over their door advertising “and teas.” That seemed to be the final straw.
“Ah!” Mr. Grimm said, a world of understanding in that single syllable.
“He’s none too pleased about the addition to the shop sign.
” Luna grimaced. “He remembers me, I’m afraid.
From when I applied there, months ago. He remembers .
. .” She held up her wrist, letting her cuff fall back to reveal the ugly heptagram mark.
“He’s threatening to file a report with the SSSD. ”
Mr. Grimm drew a long breath. Then, holding out a hand he almost but not quite touched her arm. “It’s all right, Miss Talbot,” he said. “I’ll deal with this. Erm, if you’ll just step aside, please.”
Luna hastily sidled away from the door, feeling the spot on her arm where he had not touched her with strange awareness. She worried her lower lip, watched Mr. Grimm take hold of the door latch and push forward to step through.
Only, the latch wouldn’t give.
Mr. Grimm frowned. He tried the latch again, more firmly.
Then again, and this time, he put his shoulder to the door and heaved, while Luna tried to pretend she didn’t notice the flex of his arm muscles, prominently displayed by that sweaty undershirt.
He jiggled the latch again, then stepped back, scowling at the door. “Locked,” he said.
Luna swallowed. “You have the key, don’t you?”
“Of course. But it’s . . . strange.” He fished into his trouser pocket and removed a tiny metal key which he inserted into the lock. But though he turned, strained, adjusted his stance, and strained again, the lock wouldn’t budge. “Stuck,” he said.
Another drop of sweat trickled down Luna’s forehead and off the end of her nose. She wiped a sleeve across her face. “Maybe try taking it out and putting it back in again?”
Mr. Grimm shot her a swift look. In absence of other options, however, he did as suggested, removing the key, turning it around in his fingers, then applying it to the keyhole once more. Only this time, the key wouldn’t go in at all.
“May I try?” Luna asked. “Garden’s sometimes a bit less ornery with me, you know.”
Mr. Grimm raised an eyebrow. Then, with a shrug, he handed the key over and stepped back.
“All right now,” Luna said, casting her voice out to Garden’s sprawling grounds. “Let’s behave, shall we?” She lifted the key to the keyhole.
Only there was no keyhole. None whatsoever. Nor was there any lock or latch. Nothing but blank slats in the freestanding doorframe. Even the hinges were gone.
Luna’s eyes rounded. She turned sharply to Mr. Grimm, only to find him staring at the door with equal surprise and no little horror.
His gaze lifted to hers, and she saw there real shock.
This, more than anything, frightened her.
She’d never seen Mr. Grimm look like that while standing in his own Garden.
She blinked. More sweat dripped into her eyes. “It’s getting rather hot, isn’t it?” she said.