Chapter 20 Gideon
Gideon
Winnie: So that grand gesture was a bust. Perhaps a movie and candles weren’t grand enough, or maybe the whole stealing her car thing was a bit TOO morally grey.
Yes, I know technically Sinead stole her car.
You’re not giving up, are you? Maybe you just need to try something a little grander.
I SINK INTO THE SOFT LEATHER seat of my car. A thick scent rises from the fabric, a chilly tang spiced with myrrh and ginger, like the first frost falling on fresh grass.
My car has been Arabella’d.
I breathe in deeply. I’m never washing this car again.
There’s other evidence that she’s been here, too.
Arabella has taken something sharp – possibly her fingernails – and scratched the words ARABELLA IS A SEXY BITCH into the dashboard.
It is true.
Humming, I turn the stereo up until my eardrums rattle and zip towards the village. Arabella has driven up to London to sell some religious relics to one of her contacts, so she won’t be attempting to torment me tonight.
Thanks to édouard’s email, I’m one step closer to reuniting her with the Antirhodos Collar. He’s also given me another idea to make Arabella see that destiny has brought us together again – for this, I need the help of my most trusted friend.
“If you’ve come about the sculptures, I’m not finished.” Alaric frowns at the majestic raven taking flight from his workbench, every feather perfectly rendered in white marble. “And now I’ll have to start this one again.”
“What? Why?”
“Stop being polite.” Alaric frowns at the sculpture. “I know you can see it. It’s obvious. I cannot allow such an affront to the art of sculpture to see the light of day.”
Before I can stop him, he kicks the sculpture off the workbench. It crashes to the ground. When the cloud of marble dust subsides, the raven is in five pieces.
Winnie, who is watching from the doorway, sighs.
“That’s the fourth perfectly lovely sculpture he’s destroyed this week,” she tells me. “At this rate, you might need to hire Reginald to make sculptures out of margarine if you want anything to adorn your garden on opening night.”
“My friend Alaric will come through for me.”
I say it with more confidence than I feel. Even to this ex-criminal overlord, Alaric is terrifying. I prefer to stay on his good side.
Winnie makes a face. “Perhaps if he could chill out with the perfectionism and focus on finishing something.”
Alaric frowns. “I don’t need to chill out. I am a vampire. My blood is already cold—”
Winnie brightens. “Hey, I know, I’ll bribe you! If you finish a sculpture and give it to Gideon, I’ll do the thing you like…”
Alaric perks up immediately, but then stares glumly at the broken bits of raven at his feet. “Maybe this could count as five sculptures? Sort of a deconstructed sculpture park?”
“I’d prefer my park constructed, if it’s all the same to you.
” I rub his shoulder. “I’m not here to bust your balls, Allie.
I need your help. I have an idea for how to show Arabella that I’ve forgiven her for the whole trying-to-kill-me thing, and that I think she’s beautiful and marvellous and I want to make her mine. ”
Winnie pipes up. “Is it gifting her a genuine Egyptian mummy? Because I can help with that.”
Alaric looks pained. “I am not yet ready to part with my collection.”
I grin. “Don’t worry, friend. Your dusty old kings are safe from me. I’m going to create a sculpture of her for the garden.”
Winnie claps her hands. “Oh, I love that idea! I think that could be just grand enough to work.”
I plonk a worn, yellowed piece of paper on the table. “I want you to sculpt Arabella in this pose.”
Alaric frowns at the poster. “Is this a Toulouse-Lautrec?”
Winnie runs over to look at the poster. “That’s like the poster Beth had at her opening, except this one looks properly old. I still can’t believe that’s Arabella. Did she really wear those incredible jewels?”
“She did. Sadly, that necklace has been lost for over a century. But maybe not forever…” I shove the poster at Alaric. “So if you could just whip that up for me, Allie—”
Alaric folds his arms. “You do realise this isn’t how art works. I’m not a dancing monkey who can carve you anything you like for a pat on the head.”
I pat him on the head. “Well, what would you normally do?”
Alaric ducks under my arm and gestures to a fresh block of marble sitting on the workbench.
“Normally, I would think of a pleasing form, and then I might trace a few lines on this block, and then I would take away the bits that aren’t the pleasing form, and I’d be left with a likeness of my Winnie’s beautiful figure. ”
“How am I going to win Arabella over with a sculpture of Winnie’s tits?” I moan. “No offence, Winnie.”
“None taken.” Winnie’s words are muffled by her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shake. Is she laughing?
“I’m not sculpting any other woman’s tits.” Alaric folds his arms. “I am a man of honour.”
“Give me that.” I yank the chisel from his hand. “I’ll do it. It will be more personal if it comes from me, anyway. Besides, it’s just a hunk of rock. How hard can it be?”