13. Artemis #3
Dignity clinging by a thread, I pretended not to notice how much I missed the warmth the moment it was gone.
“So,” I said, changing the subject. “Logistical question.”
Arthur straightened, instantly attentive. “Yes.”
“Where do your clothes go when you”—I swept my hand through the air in front of his body—“do that?”
He blinked. “They are stored.”
“Where?”
“A pocket realm.”
I stared at him, unblinking, waiting for more.
He added, helpfully, “I also keep essential items there when traveling.”
I nodded once, because what else could I do? “That sounds totally normal.”
He flashed me a relieved smile, and the worry in his eyes eased.
The walk to my apartment was short and surreal. I kept glancing at him, afraid he might disappear if I didn’t maintain visual confirmation. He did not.
My apartment seemed smaller with him in it, because Arthur seemed to take up space simply by existing. He looked around with polite curiosity, hands loosely clasped in front of him, like he was trying very hard not to disturb anything, including me.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Make yourself at home. As much as one can in a stranger’s apartment with questionable throw pillows.”
He nodded solemnly, as if accepting a sacred duty.
There was a knock at the door, and my stomach dropped.
“Oh crap,” I said. “Brace yourself.”
Arthur frowned slightly, but before he could ask what I meant, I opened the door.
Eloise stood there with her house-coat half on, eyes wide and furious and relieved all at once.
“I have been worried sick,” she said, stepping forward. “You always come home straight after your shift. Always. And today? Nothing. No call. No note. Not even a carrier pigeon.”
“I have a man in my apartment,” I blurted.
Eloise froze, her gaze flicking past me to Arthur. Then back to me. Then to Arthur again.
“Do you want this boy in your apartment?” she asked carefully. Carefully, in the way one asks whether there was a snake in the house.
“Yes,” I said. “He was invited.”
Eloise relaxed by exactly half a degree, then strode in as if she owned my apartment.
“I’m Eloise,” she said, extending a hand. “And you are?”
“Arthur,” he replied as he took her hand.
She studied him, her gaze tracking down his body before scrutinizing his face again. “Why are you here?”
“I require Artemis’s expertise,” he said. “For a specialized research matter.”
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And this research requires her to disappear for hours without warning?”
Arthur hesitated for a beat. “Yes.”
“Of course it does.”
I stepped in before she could continue her interrogation. “If he were going to steal me for nefarious purposes,” I said, “he could have done that already today. Multiple times. Very efficiently.”
Arthur coughed into his fist.
“Well,” she said slowly, “I don’t love that as reassurance. But you do look remarkably un-murdered.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Eloise crossed her arms, the initial panic settling into something sharper. Curious. Protective.
“So,” she said. “What kind of research requires her to vanish, arrive home looking like she’s just run a marathon, and bring a strange man into her living room?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again.
Arthur answered calmly. “Historical research. Very old. And very specialized, like I said.”
Eloise tilted her head. “That explains exactly none of this.”
“It involves missing records,” he continued. “Records that may have been deliberately altered.”
Her eyes flicked to me. “And you agreed to assist him with this?”
“Yes,” I said. “And then things… escalated.”
“How,” Eloise asked flatly, “did they escalate?”
“We need to follow a lead,” Arthur said. “We can’t do it here.”
Eloise’s gaze sharpened. “And where can you do it?”
I winced. “Overseas.”
She stared at me. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” I said.
Arthur gave me a questioning look.
Shrugging, I nodded.
“There’s a library in Scotland that holds documents we can’t access here,” he said.
Eloise’s jaw dropped in slow motion. “Scotland.”
“Yes,” I said. “Temporarily.”
I could see her brain buffering.
“And this is for work?” she asked.
“Yes,” Arthur replied.
She looked directly at me. “You’re not being coerced?”
“No,” I said. “I want to go.”
Eloise exhaled and rubbed her temples. “Okay. I don’t love this, but I know that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The determined one. You’ve already made your mind up,” she said.
Arthur stayed quiet. He clearly knew better than to insert himself where he wasn’t invited.
“You,” Eloise said, pointing her finger at him. “You’re responsible for her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Arthur said immediately.
“If something happens to her—”
“I’ll take care of her,” he said. “I promise.”
Eloise held his gaze for a long beat. Finally, she nodded.
“Fine,” she said. “Then we’re packing. And you’re not forgetting your chargers again.”
She strode toward my bedroom without a backward glance.
I stood there in stunned silence.
Arthur leaned slightly toward me. “Your friend is… formidable. I haven’t been that intimidated in years.”
I smiled, nerves buzzing. “You have no idea.”