16. Pippa
PIPPA
Even though I can’t see Shemaiah in this tiny closet, I can feel him.
It’s worse than the bathroom. After leaving his rooms earlier, I had to find a place to just breathe through the desire coursing through me.
But now, there’s no escape. The heat of him makes me lose all sense.
I promised myself I would never let myself feel this helpless need ever again.
Especially not with a man outside my station, a man as emotionally unavailable as—
“We’re agreed then?” Shemaiah asks, thankfully cutting off my thoughts, but leaning closer as he does. Probably so that I can hear his whispers, but the position has us so close it makes me lightheaded. Something hard presses against my belly. Oh gods.
My mouth drops open. An unsettling flutter stirs to life in my core.
“Yes,” I rasp, needing space, feeling for the doorknob behind me.
“Wait,” Shemaiah says before I open the door. He reaches up to pull some of my hair from the bun, scraping his fingers against my scalp in the process.
Because he wants them to think…
Oh.
I open the door, and we tumble from the closet, Shemaiah grabbing hold of me to keep me on my feet.
When I turn, my backside presses to his front, and I wish I’d worn one of the bustled dresses the maid put out for me instead of my simple green frock.
Every person in the room watches us with rapt attention.
My eyes immediately find Jafeth, who’s smirking, and my cheeks warm.
“I wonder if we’ll have to listen to them too,” Zarah says without looking up from her plate where she’s arranged her food into a pattern only she can discern.
Noah clears his throat at his sister’s criticism.
My muscles tense with embarrassment, and that unwanted desire from earlier flares back with vehement force. I look at the floor.
Anna makes a horrible scoffing noise. I don’t blame her. She just wants to survive, and the window has dwindled to just Jafeth. Considering what I caught him doing with Lucy the morning after the last new moon party, Anna’s chances are slim.
I can’t look at her. In fact, I can’t meet anyone’s gaze. I disengage from Shemaiah’s touch and hurry from the room.
Someone calls after me. The quiet rumble of Shemaiah’s voice is followed by footsteps, but I don’t turn around.
He catches up and takes hold of my elbow. “This way.”
“What are you doing?” I yank my arm away from his touch.
“We have to talk.”
“Isn’t that what we just did in the closet?”
“There’s more to discuss.”
I suppose that’s true, but I need space. From him.
He takes my hand and pulls me through the halls. When I think we’ll stop in the library, we don’t. Instead, he bypasses our normal spot, cutting through rooms, turning down hallways, slipping through corridors I haven’t yet explored.
“Where are you taking me?”
“We need privacy.” He hurries me through a gallery where grim-faced figures watch us as we pass until we come to a giant painting at the end of the hall.
“Is that Zarah?” I ask.
“Yes.” He opens the painting like a door, and pulls me inside a passageway, closing it behind us.
“What is this?” I ask, finding myself in another dark enclosed space. “I can’t see.”
“I can,” he says. “Trust me.”
I want to say I don’t trust him. He has all the power.
He could hurt me in so many different ways.
And now he’s asking me to lie for him, to pretend to be in a relationship with him.
It’s my past coming back to haunt me in the present.
Another lie. Another relationship that isn’t real.
My emotions are all over the place, and I’m feeling things I shouldn’t, things he isn’t.
But I keep hold of his hand, because it’s so much better than the weeks without him.
We descend a set of stairs into the darkness. It spirals down and down until suddenly my stomach flips over on itself, and I’m upside down, but I’m not.
“What was that?” I ask.
“We’re in the Gate House,” he answers as if I’m supposed to know what that means. “It’s the under house.”
As if that offers any more clarity.
Now we climb up the stairwell, even though we’re moving in the same direction we were before, and emerge through another painting—this one torn, and it isn’t Zarah. The corridor looks much like the one we left, but different. The paintings here are more garish, the lights brighter.
“What is this place?”
“You don’t have to whisper anymore,” he says. “They can’t hear us down here.”
“But where are we?”
“I told you. The Gate House.” He continues through the hallway until we arrive at a library—like the one we usually go to, but not at all the same.
I stall at the threshold, pulling my hand from his. “Shemaiah?”
He stops, turning just inside the door to look at me. He’s still only half dressed in a loose shirt partially tucked into his pants, his hair disheveled, strands hanging about his face. His dark eyes are gentle, and I wish they weren’t. I wish they were distant and unyielding like they usually are.
“We went through a Mavarri portal into a replica of the house above. As I understand it, Mavarri used to be able to cross into other worlds through here, but the passages were sealed.”
“Ah, that’s what you meant by a Gate House.”
He nods and walks deeper into the room. “We can talk freely here. There’s a bell that will let us know if anyone comes down.”
Shemaiah sits on a couch, and I take the chair across from him. It’s much like our usual arrangement in the library above. He leans back and heaves a sigh. “Thank you.”
I wait rather than say anything, wanting him to be the one to start us off.
“I shouldn’t have put you in that position, but I just…
” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and drops his head in his hands.
“She was crying, and I made you cry earlier, and I just didn’t want to hurt anyone.
I made a mess of things. Usually I’m the one cleaning those up. ” He glances at me, then away.
“Is the idea of giving Anna a chance really that bad? So bad you’d fake a relationship with a woman you’ve been avoiding for two weeks? A woman you don’t like?”
“I like you, Pippa.” He rubs his chin. “I’ve been lonely these last two weeks without you.” One hand wraps around the back of his neck, while the other falls away from his face. “And… when I saw you this morning, I realized I missed… this.”
My breath catches in my chest at his admission, bitter at how much my emotions are pacified hearing it, soaking it in like a sponge, even if he didn’t say he missed me, but rather not being alone.
“Thank you,” he sighs, “for rescuing me, agreeing to pretend with me.”
That makes me offer him a shallow laugh.
He smiles. A smile so soft I can’t look at it. I turn my attention to my hands in my lap. “So what now?”
“I’m in love with you and trying to woo you.”
I brave a glance at him. “I thought I was in love once.”
Shemaiah’s smile fades. “With your son’s father?”
I nod and swallow, bolstering my defenses. “I mean, so I know how it feels, how to act.”
“And was he in love with you?”
“He said he was. But in the end, it was all fake.”
Shemaiah’s jaw tenses, and his back straightens. “We should set some rules. To keep things clear.”
“Alright.” I frown. “Like what?”
“You can’t fall in love with me.”
I scoff. “Presumptuous.”
“I’m serious, Pippa. You’re my friend, and I don’t want to give you false hope.” His forehead wrinkles, gaze intense. “I don’t love you.” He clears his throat as if it pains him to say it. “I can’t. You have to understand that.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to see the why behind what he’s saying. It doesn’t really matter, though, because love is a hope I refuse to carry. “I understand. This is nothing more than one friend helping another. You don’t need to worry.” I smooth my skirts. “Anything else?”
He glances around the room. “We need to act like a courting couple.”
“Alright, so we spend time together, resume our afternoon games in the library, sit by each other at dinner, that sort of thing. That’s fine.”
“It’s more than that. If I’m in love, I would… do more.”
I swallow, studying my clammy hands. “What does that mean… ‘do more’?”
He looks away. “I think you know what I mean, Pippa.”
A shiver races down my spine. “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“If I were in love with you,” his gaze captures mine, “I would kiss you.” His attention drops to my mouth, and I lick my lips. “No one will believe I’m in love with you if I don’t kiss you.”
“They won’t need to know. Kissing happens in private.”
Shemaiah’s head tilts. “Does it?”
I squirm, crossing my legs. “Of course it does.”
He makes a humming noise as if both considering and objecting to the premise. “Fine. But we might have to pretend to get caught kissing.”
“That’s… acceptable.”
“We have one more complication.” His tongue peeks out from between his lips, rubbing over his incisors.
“What’s that?”
“The new moon parties.”
My heart slams hard against my ribs.
Shemaiah’s eyes drop to my chest as if he heard.
The idea of Shemaiah feeding from me should be terrifying, but it isn’t.
Imagining it makes my pulse quicken, core clenching.
I recall the night of the last new moon party, the way he looked at me, how much I wanted him.
Even now, his eyes take on a dark shine.
This is dangerous territory. A path we shouldn’t go down.
I won’t confuse attraction for love—not again.
Whatever this new energy is between us, it isn’t safe.
It shouldn’t be indulged. “I’m ill. That’s excuse enough for you to… um…”
“Feed from another?”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“And if Anna wants to be the one I feed from? She’s cornered me the last two times.”
I lift my chin. “She won’t now that she knows we’re together. Anna may be a horrible flirt, but she’s not the kind of woman to throw herself at a man who’s already spoken for.” At least, I hope not. For Shemaiah’s sake.
His mouth opens as if to say something, then closes as he nods. He holds out his hand to shake on our agreement.
“Wait.” I bite my lip and press my palm to my heart. “I need you to promise me something. In exchange for doing this.”
He lowers his hand, waiting for me to go on.
“Promise me you’ll find Tobias even if—” My voice cracks. “Even if I’m gone. Promise you’ll make sure he’s alright, in a good home, and has opportunities for a good education.” I gain strength with each word. This is what I need in order to be at peace with what’s coming. This is all I want.
Shemaiah takes my hand in his, pulling it to his heart like he’s making a solemn vow. “We’re friends, and I would do as much even if you hadn’t asked.”
A heavy weight lifts from my chest. I smile. He smiles back. For the first time in years, I feel ready for what’s ahead. Pretending to be Shemaiah’s love won’t be a bad way to spend my last days, especially since it means Tobias will be cared for after I’m gone.