Chapter 25 Gideon
Gideon
Sinead: I’ve just been informed of a little blip in the security system, but it seems to have righted itself. Carlton thinks it’s probably due to the stream being diverted over some of the network cables.
I MOVE AWAY FROM THE PARTY, my head hung in shame.
What was I thinking? I never should have put that sculpture on display.
I thought I knew Arabella. She used to love pomp and pageantry. She belongs on a stage, baring her soul when she dances, not buttoned up in her designer suits, moving money around for rich, pompous vampires who are utterly beneath her. (I include myself in that list.)
I thought the sculpture would say that.
But maybe I don’t know her at all.
She offered to save Sanctus.
I realise I’m not alone. Members of the Nevermore Coven surround me.
Winnie pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I thought she’d love the statue. But I didn’t realise just how abysmal it was.”
“Thanks, Winnie. That makes me feel so much better,” I mutter.
Alaric pats me on the shoulder. “It certainly made a statement.”
“What kind of statement?”
“That you are blind to her beauty and filled with rage.”
“So it’s not a literal copy of her figure,” I snap. “Art doesn’t always have to look like stuff, right? That’s what the impressionists were always saying. Maybe it’s a metaphor?”
“It is a metaphor,” Maisie adds. “It’s a metaphor for ‘the person who inspired this statue is someone I hate’.”
“Are you going to talk to her now?” Isis asks.
“I don’t know if I should.” Arabella’s words bounce off the inside of my skull. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me ever again.”
Which means not only have I lost my chance with Arabella, but I’ve lost Sanctus, too.
Celeste comes running up to the group, her bright hair whipping around her face. “Someone defaced Arabella’s house.”
“What?”
“I walked her home, and she was fuming about the sculpture…” Celeste flashes me a sympathetic look. “But then we saw someone pinned a beheaded bird to her door and wrote ‘MINE’ underneath. It looks like it’s written in blood.”
My heart hammers against my ribs.
“But that’s impossible. Sanctus security would never allow that to happen…” I reach for my phone but realise that it’s in the stream. “Is Arabella okay?”
“She’s grumpy, so I fear for the life of the perpetrator when she gets her claws into him.”
“She shouldn’t have to dirty her claws. I’ll take great pleasure in gutting this bastard myself.”
It can’t be Lucien. He’s long gone. I made certain of that.
But it could be another vampire who knows about my past with Lucien, trying to intimidate me into giving over Sanctus to the Conclave by threatening Arabella…
Maybe it’s this same member of staff who has been robbing me.
“She doesn’t want you to know about it. Please don’t let on that I told you,” Celeste begs. “And don’t worry about Arabella. We’ll make sure she’s safe.”
Her eyes flash with venom, and I believe her.
Celeste Lucas may be a sweet, apple-cheeked baker, but there’s always been something about her.
She has an odd smell – not vampiric, not magical like Dora, but kind of earthy and wild.
The scent of someone who will go feral to protect her friends.
And she does have an impressive collection of kitchen knives.
I hold Maisie back as the others run off to check on Arabella. “Maisie, I’m so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to help with the variety show.”
She stops in her tracks. “What? Why not?”
“You heard Arabella tonight. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” My shoulders slump. “I’ve already crossed her boundaries, and there’s a whole history between us. I have to respect what she wants.”
And if this is someone connected to Lucien, and they’re trying to get to me through her, then she’s safer if I’m nowhere near her.
“Arabella says things she doesn’t mean all the time.
The other week, she told Isis that the reason everything goes wrong in her life is because her shower singing angers the gods.
But she still shows up to book club every week.
Without fail. If Arabella didn’t want you in her life, she’d be drinking her coffee from your skull right now, not demanding you help her direct a variety show.
She cares about you in her own caustic, Arabella way. ”
“Vampires can’t drink coffee.”
“How do you survive eternity without coffee? Coffee is life. You have to do the variety show.” Maisie lowers her voice.
“In case you haven’t noticed, the village is a little wary of this brand-new development filled with rich toffs, especially with the recent spate of murders.
I think the variety show will bring the community together, and Sanctus Estate should be part of it. ”
“Can’t I just clip tickets or something?” I brighten. “I’ll know. I’ll pull a rabbit out of a hat. I’d need to find a rabbit. And a hat…”
“I need you to do this. Please, Gideon.”
If I’m close to Arabella, I can protect her. Even if she hates me for it.
I sigh. “Okay, fine. But only if Arabella is okay with it. Because if I show up and she doesn’t want me there, she’ll kill me, and then you, and then me again. And you know how much she hates getting blood on her shoes.”
“I’ll manage Arabella, I promise.” Maisie hugs me. “You’re the best.”
No. I’m not.
But I’m trying. Maybe Maisie’s right. Arabella is helping me with the Sanctus finances. And she hasn’t tried to kill me again.
If someone is trying to hurt her at Sanctus, I will present their skull to her as a trophy.
And if édouard finds her necklace and I get it back, like in Dora’s vision, then she’ll have to forgive me.
Right?