Chapter 4
chapter
four
Gideon
I run my hand over thedark blue, intricately embossed leather cover of the Elysium Chronicles. The nooks and crannies of the leather are as fascinating as what’s inside, but the book isn’t that important to me anymore. I’ve owned it for a very long time and forgot about it until I needed a reason to contact Verity.
In fact, it took me two weeks of trying to conjure up a reason to contact her before I remembered the ancient book. I have no children who need tutoring in obscure, sometimes lost, languages. So I needed an excuse.
Now I’ve remembered the book I put away a long time ago when I couldn’t completely decipher the thing, my curiosity has increased. What exactly is it? Many have said it’s a mad person’s insanity on vellum. Others say it’s a book of fiction. But in the shadows of the night, deep in whispered conversations, it’s said to be a book that escaped Tir Na Nog and that the Tuatha de Danaan, the ancient gods of Ireland, still search for it.
I don’t know for sure where the Elysium Chronicles came from, though I doubt it came from some lost Irish gods. The book isn’t written in anything like ancient Gaelic. But in the back of my mind, I remember something about fishermen from mainland Europe finding their way to Ireland long before the Gaels. So, perhaps the manuscript could be Gaelic? Or something more ancient.
I have a feeling Verity will know the answer. That’s why I’m sitting in the restaurant she’s chosen, awaiting her arrival. I look around, searching the crowd inside for her face. I expected her to come alone, but disappointment dulls my excitement when I finally spot her. She’s with another woman.
I know the redhead must be Verity’s friend because Verity keeps bending her head to whisper to the other woman.
I catch her eyes and raise my hand, waiting while the pair walk over to the table. I smile despite my disappointment and stand as the women reach my table.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” I say with a pleasant smile still in place.
One of my snakes hisses in the direction of Verity’s friend, but she simply hisses back and pushes her chin-length hair behind her ear. She’s a pretty woman, but I only have eyes for Verity.
She’s even more beautiful with her hair loose down her back, but she’s wearing glasses today. Thick, multicolored plastic rims frame her eyes, but they don’t detract from her gorgeous features. I appreciate her white cable-knit sweater, black pencil skirt, and Doc Martens before she takes her seat. She has a quirky sense of fashion, but it works for her.
“Good afternoon, Gideon. This is my friend, Alice. When she found out I was coming to Rosalia’s, she asked if she could come along and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Verity smiles pleasantly, but the smugness behind it tells me she doesn’t care if I know that last part was a lie. She asked Alice to come along. I’m not offended. Verity should protect herself and proceed with caution when meeting a stranger—even if that stranger is me.
“I love the pita bread here. It’s got such an amazing flavor, don’t you think? Or have you not been here before? Do you mind if I slither past you and sit here, Gideon?” Alice asks, smiling at me with lively blue eyes.
She’s flirting, but I’m not interested.
I smile politely and move out of her way so she can get by.“No, I haven’t been here before, but I’m looking forward to trying something from the menu. Verity, perhaps you’d like to look over the book while I see what’s on the menu?”
I slide the Elysium Chronicles over to Verity and watch as she brushes her fingers over the leather. The gesture makes me smile inwardly. She’s as intrigued by the manuscript as I am.
“I know I asked to meet here, but it feels wrong exposing this to the elements,” she says, biting her plump bottom lip.
I shrug. “It’s been in my desk drawer for ages.”
Verity frowns like I’ve just stolen candy from a small child. “Are you crazy? This book is priceless!” She pulls cotton gloves from her purse and slides them on her small hands. “I can’t believe this could help us decipher the Lenayovitch Tome. It’s obviously old.” Verity speaks quietly, as though to herself, but I hear her.
I love every note of her voice, which reminds me of swirling smoke, wrapping me in a serene, white haze. I shouldn’t feel like this about a human woman, but I can’t help myself.
She opens the front panel and gasps at the colorful beauty of the title page. The ancient letters are all decorated with the tiniest vines and flowers, and the rest of the page is covered in bright dots that form dragons and other animals that don’t exist in this world. Do they exist somewhere else?
“I can’t believe you’re holding something so hiss-toric, Verity,” Alice says.
I sigh. Fuck my life. Her friend is cute but not my type, and I’ve heard every snake pun under the sun and then some.
“It’s been preserved remarkably well”—Verity is oblivious to Alice’s attempt at humour as she glares at my chin—“considering it’s been kept in a desk drawer.”
I shrug. “I had no idea it was worth anything.”
Verity mutters something that sounds a lot like “amateurs” under her breath.
“I’m going to have a Greek salad, I think,” I say without opening the menu. I read it while I was waiting for Verity earlier and only used it as an excuse to let her have a look at the book.
“Snakes alive! There’s so much choice,” Alice exclaims, adding to her pun toll. “I’m going to have the scale salad. I mean kale, the kale salad.”
Kill me now.I wonder how long the snake jokes will continue. Does Alice have a stash of them memorized?
“Alice, can you order for me? I’m going to look at this book a little more,” Verity says without lifting her eyes.
I can see she’s no longer interested in food. She’s enthralled with the book … but that means she isn’t paying attention to me either. I’ll deal with that for now.
We order our food, and Alice resorts to surfing on her phone while I amuse myself watching Verity absorbed in the book, turning each page with careful admiration.
“There’s so much to decipher here, Gideon. It could take years. And I can’t wait to see the photos of the Lenayovitch Tome,” she says excitedly, her eyes as high as she dares to raise them—somewhere around my mouth this time.
I cast a cautious look around. “It’s getting a bit too loud in here to talk about the book, and there are too many curious ears. How about we meet at the Supernatural Library tomorrow morning and go over it properly?” I suggest casually.
“Yes, that’s fine with me. I don’t have any appointments in the morning, so I can meet you,” Verity agrees, gently closing the book with a look of regret. She sighs as she hands it to me. “We should put it away before our food comes, anyway. We don’t want to stain it.”
“No, we don’t.” I nod, not feeling nearly as reverent about the book as Verity. It’s a means to an end for me—a way to spend time with this fascinating human.
“So, do you have many books like that?” Alice asks, tipping her chin toward the laptop bag where I store the Elysian Chronicles.
“An entire library full of them,” I answer with aslight smile. Can I tempt Verity with the promise of even more books?
“Oh, that must be wonderful for you,” Verity says, her eyes rising to my nose now. “I can’t imagine having that many ancient manuscripts to read. I know I can see many of them at the library, but it’s not the same as owning them yourself.”
“I guess I’m used to it. I had a lot of books passed down to me from many generations, and I’ll pass them on to my children if I ever have them. I’d be happy to show you what I have.” I shrug, not as impressed with manuscripts as Verity. “I prefer the art and the ideas from ancient times, although I guess some of those ideas will be found in the manuscripts that families like mine have hoarded.”
“I can’t imagine growing up with all that knowledge within reach.” Verity rests her elbows on the table and props her chin on her hands. She has a faraway look in her eyes that fascinates me. Is she imagining herself as a child, opening all those books?
I picture her in my library, sprawled out naked on a blanket in front of my fireplace. My cock swells behind my zipper, and I adjust myself discreetly, not wanting to give my thoughts away.
“So, what do you do, Gideon? Does it have anything to do with hammers and adders, uh, I mean ladders, or are you a civil serpent?” Alice asks, reminding me that she’s here.
I’ve been so engrossed in fantasies of Verity on that blanket that I forgot about her. And her fucking puns.
“I run a security company and take care of the finances for the family businesses,” I answer. Technically, I don’t have to work because my family is one of the richest on the planet. They own many businesses, and I spend most of my workday keeping track of them all.
“Oh, wow. That sounds cool,” Alice says, her eyes gleaming with interest.
I chuckle. “Keeps me out of mischief. Mostly.”
“Are there any copies of the book?” Verity speaks up, her eyes lingering on my left cheek now. “You know, black and white copies, something we wouldn’t have to worry about damaging?”She strokes the white tablecloth as though touching the old leather of the manuscript.
I watch her, fascinated with how small her hands are and how much smaller they’d look wrapped around my cock.
I clear my throat before shaking my head. “No, but I may be able to scan it. A copy machine would damage the ink.”
“Oh,that would be good. I’d be able to enlarge the letters then and have a good look at it all.” Verity’s delight is written all over her face.
Her excitement makes me feel a little guilty about what I want from her. What I really want, that is.
And what I want is to have her beneath me, over me, riding me until we both explode. However she wants it and in every position I can think of.
She’s a scholar and seems like a woman focused on her career. Is she so focused that she’s oblivious to the spark between us? I feel it every time I’m near her, every time her husky voice teases my senses.
Damn, she must feel it. I’m not sure what I’ll do if this attraction is one-sided.