Chapter 16 Gideon
Gideon
Sinead: I’ve made the arrangements, and Mr Moriarty assures me that everything will work. All you have to do is get her back to Sanctus.
THE SMELL HITS ME before I’m five feet from the door.
Bergamot and patchouli assault my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes. If this is human magic, then give me some of that Dusk Court blowing-the-world-to-smithereens nonsense any day. And to smithereens is the absolute worst way to get blown.
But this… this is torture.
I have to do it. For Arabella. For my grand gesture.
Arabella and Winnie have been working on the Sanctus finances for a week now.
She’s sorting coins, making calls, and driving up to London with stacks of treasure in the boot of her car.
She returns empty-handed, but when I check my bank account, the number climbs at an alarming rate.
Thanks to her contacts and astute deal-making skills, the treasures the vampires paid me are worth more than the value of their homes, and she’s barely made a dent in the vault.
At this rate, I’ll be able to fund the rest of the project without having to court another investor.
I’m not surprised Arabella is brilliant. I am surprised that she agreed to help me save Sanctus. It’s given me hope that maybe the Nevermore Coven’s crazy plan for a grand gesture could work.
I’m about to find out.
It’s after 7 pm. I’ve just woken from my daysleep and talked myself into coming here against my better judgement.
The CLOSED sign is flipped over the door of Spell The Tea, but I can see Isis, Dora, and Komal at the counter, sharing a bottle of wine while they glare at a computer screen.
Komal’s laugh is audible even through the thick glass.
I’d intended to go straight to Celeste for assistance, since she’s Arabella’s closest friend in the Coven, but Winnie tells me Celeste is away visiting her mother and can’t be reached, so I’m here to prostrate myself before these three intimidating women.
I knock on the window.
Isis’s face lights up when she sees me. She’s been fond of me ever since I carried her out of that secret room in Black Crag Castle after Baylor tried to husk her. She hurries over, her purple dress flaring out around her, and flings open the door.
“Gideon, come in, come in!” She grabs my wrist and yanks me inside.
A shop bell plays a tinny bar of “Black Magic Woman”.
Smells assail me from all sides, as if I’ve wandered into a Roman army camp after they pillaged a perfume shop.
The mild woody scent of sandalwood mixes with fruity, floral ylang-ylang and the unmistakable tang of marijuana from the shop’s clientele.
And rising above it all, the delicious waft of human blood from the three Nevermore Coven members.
I pinch my nose in an attempt to keep out the competing scents and follow Isis deeper into the shop, being careful not to knock over any of the precariously balanced crystals or grinning Buddha statues.
I cannot afford any karmic retribution where Arabella is concerned.
Ordinary, everyday Arabella retribution is hard enough on my poor vampire body.
“What can we do for you?” Isis breathes, her cheeks flushed. “Anything you need, on the house. I can tell your fortune if you like?”
“No thanks. I prefer to discover my future the old-fashioned way – by living it.”
She shrugs. “Your loss. If you walk off a cliff tomorrow, don’t come crying to me.”
“You see me walking off a cliff?”
Isis smiles mysteriously and taps the side of her head. “I see many things, Gideon Blake.”
“Mostly the bottom of this wine bottle.” Komal sloshes the nearly empty pinot gris. The two girls cackle with glee.
“We’re doing our taxes,” Isis explains as she pulls out a bedazzled ottoman for me to sit on. “Well, Dora is doing our taxes. Komal and I are lending moral support.”
“I’m plying Dora with Bollywood dances so she’ll do my taxes, too!” Komal does a little shimmy, twisting her hands around her head like a dysfunctional helicopter. “I’m no Arabella, but I think it’s working.”
“It’s not. Would you like a cup of tea, Gideon?” Dora calls from the back room. “I’ve just put on a fresh pot. We have a lovely tea for vampires distilled from dried blood.”
“Tea would be brilliant, thank you,” I call out.
“Sooooo,” Isis leans over the counter, head resting on her palms. Her various necklaces clank and clatter together. “If not a reading, what are you here for? Are we going to talk about how to catch this killer? Or is this about a certain lady you want to impress?”
“Isis has some great penis enlargement spells,” Komal giggles.
“I’m perfectly fine in that department, thank you.”
“That’s what all men who need the penis enlargement spell say.” Komal tosses a small bag of herbs at my head. I catch it and toss it back at her. She ducks and it hits a display of tarot decks, knocking down cases like celestial dominoes.
“Hey, no throwing the merchandise.” Isis picks up the herb bag. “Ever since the village started Speed Dating Tuesdays at the Rose & Wimple, the penis enlargement spells have been our top sellers.”
“Don’t mind the two of them. They’re drunk.
” Dora emerges from the back room, balancing a tray with four steaming teacups and a small plate of biscuits.
She looks happier than when I last saw her, and she’s here hanging out with Isis and Komal, so the little chat Arabella and I had with Mike must’ve worked.
It figures Mike’s threats are as hollow as his head.
But there’s a cloak of sadness over her shoulders I haven’t noticed before.
People are probably so busy looking at Isis – the kooky, crazy sister – that they never notice Dora.
But beneath her baggy sweater and severe ponytail, there is a woman with galaxies in her eyes. I hope one day someone notices them.
I accept the cup containing crimson-coloured liquid. I take a sip. It’s quite good – it tastes of blood, with a lovely vanilla nose.
I set down the cup and meet their gaze. “I’ve been planning a grand gesture for a certain lady—”
“Arabella?” Komal claps her hands. “It’s Arabella, right?”
“As I said on the group chat, I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“What are you planning?” Komal’s ponytail bounces behind her as she performs another classic dance move – the sideways camel having intercourse. “Did you read all those dark romance books Maisie sent you?”
“I did, and I have so many questions.” I fix Komal with a look of utmost horror. “Since when are women fawning over men who don’t take no for an answer?”
She shrugs. “What can I say? If he’s a red flag in real life, he’s hot AF in fiction. Sometimes all a girl wants is for a sexy hitman to tie her up in the back of a car and force her to do all kinds of depraved things… and like them.”
“If you say so.” All the hitmen I’ve known in my life have been ugly brutes and I wouldn’t want these sweet ladies anywhere near them…
mainly because the Nevermore Coven would have the hitmen quaking in their boots.
“I’ve come up with something mildly unhinged.
But I need your help with a little ambience. ”
“Name it.” Dora sips her tea.
“Most human dates involve food. Vampires don’t enjoy food the way humans do, but we are particularly attuned to scent. Especially…” I swallow down a memory that fights its way to the surface. “Especially my date. So I’m looking for some scented candles.”
“We can help you there!” Isis drags me over to a shelf that’s buckling under the weight of candles in every size, colour and shape. “What sort of scent are you interested in?”
“I don’t know, exactly. The sort of scents you might smell in a movie theatre.”
“Ooooh, if you’re planning a movie date, this one is essential.” Isis hands me a candle. I bury my nose in it, trying to block out all the other scents in the shop. Hot, buttery, salty popcorn. Perfect.
“And maybe something for dessert.” Dora reaches over Isis’s head to grab a blood-red candle. “Arabella loves red cherries.”
I inhale the crimson candle. It smells sweet and fresh with a bright tang, like a warm Paris night. Even one hundred and fifty years later, it conjures up the taste of Arabella’s lips, a taste I’ve never been able to forget.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe.
The ladies start tossing candles at me. By the time they’re done, they’ve talked me into ten flavours, all of which they swear to me Arabella will love. While Isis skips off to wrap up my purchases, Dora clutches a small floral candle in her hand and stares intently at me.
“What?” I make a face. “Do I have someone in my teeth?”
“It’s just that… do peonies, irises, waterlilies and apple blossoms hold significance to you?”
She holds the candle to my nose. My breath catches on my tongue. It’s the exact scent of a certain garden where Arabella and I…
I swallow. “Yes. They mean something to me.”
Dora frowns. “When I picked up this candle, I saw a vision of you and Arabella. Do you want to know it?”
“I thought Isis was the village clairvoyant?”
Dora glances over her shoulder, checking that Isis is occupied, doing battle with a wad of tissue paper. “You have no idea how badly I wish Isis was the one with the power. She loves all this witchy stuff. But we don’t always get what we wish for. So do you want to—”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Dora closes her eyes. “I see a necklace. No, it’s more than a necklace, it’s like a collar of gold, covered in glittering jewels. In the centre is a stone of the deepest blue, carved like a scarab.”
My heart thuds against my chest.
“You’re holding it in your hands,” she says. “You’re so happy. You’re excited. You’ve never felt like this before. But I see other things, too. A dim parking lot. Tombstones. A phone with a blinking message. A dark presence. A painting made of light. And blood, so much blood…”
“What does all that mean?”
“I don’t know, I’m sorry. Believe me, I wish my visions came with a Wikipedia entry.”
“And these visions are from the future? Not the past?”
Dora nods.
I step back, my mind reeling.
I’m holding the collar.
But that can’t possibly be true. Unless…
Unless the collar has survived.
Unless I find it and bring it to Arabella.
I can undo all that went wrong between us.
There’s no gesture grander than that.
My vampiric heart skips its languid beat. I grab Dora by the shoulders and kiss her square on the lips. “Dora, you are a marvel. I will write sonnets in your honour. I will name a dinosaur after you. I will build a statue to your brilliance—”
“Yes, yes, I’m glad you’re so happy, given the amount of blood I’ve described.
I forgot that vampires like blood. Just don’t ask Alaric to carve the statue.
” Dora wriggles out of my grip and smooths down her sweater.
“Winnie tells me he tossed another finished sculpture off the Black Crag parapet last night. Apparently, the pinkie finger had a microscopic chip.”
I roll my eyes. “I swear, if he didn’t have such a glorious arse, I’d have ended my friendship with that infuriating man a century ago.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. And Gideon?” Dora stares at her shoes. “Don’t tell anyone where you got this vision. I can’t have word getting out that I can…”
Her shoulders tense. I realise what she’s not telling me.
Mike doesn’t know.
I think about her husband’s reddened face as he yelled at her in front of everyone. If he’s that threatened by his wife dancing and having fun with her girlfriends, then what would he be like if he found out Dora sees visions of the future?
My fingers ball into a fist. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s any clothing made from polyester (natural fibre or naked, I always say).
But a second thing I can’t stand is weak, insecure men who bully and intimidate women because they want everything on their terms. I saw them every day on the streets and in the cabarets of Paris.
I worked for one of them for far too long.
In my worst, darkest days, I fear I’ve become one of them.
As much as I want to put Alaric’s testicle-severing sword to good use, I will not lift a finger against Mike until Dora asks. But when she asks (and I’m certain it’s when), Alaric and I will delight in inventing several imaginative ways to teach Mike to respect women.
Maybe Komal’s right and I’m more of an unhinged dark romance hero than I give myself credit for.
“Thank you, Dora.” I take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Your secret is safe with me. But if you ever need a friend with sharp fangs and no morals, know that you can call me.”
“Noted.” She smiles sadly. “Good luck with your grand gesture, Gideon. I think you’ll need it.”