Gideon
My throat dries. Every breath is a controlled effort as Raven stands sandwiched between two monsters. Relief she’s still alive tag-teams with the fear she’ll be killed any minute. My fists are instant balls of flame. Cole gathers wind around us, and I pull oxygen from his stores to fuel my fires. I don’t know if it’s the sight of my hands or the smell of smoke, but the alien-rabbit bugles like an elephant and thunders past us into the jungle. Trees snap in half and crash to the ground in its wake.
As the noise fades, I pivot to face the other threat. He’s some kind of mythological hybrid of bull and man.
“A Minotaur,” Cole says. “I’ve met one before. They’re lethal.”
Cole and I must share the same thought, because we break into a jog, readying for battle.
Raven darts in front of the beast. Her back to his … chest? Both her arms stretch out on either side, warning us away, protecting him from attack.
Confused, I check my pace. Her lips are moving, but I can’t hear her. And God, how I want to hear her.
The bull paws the ground and snorts. His eyes are red neon. Blood turns molten in my veins as I calculate how close she is to those deadly-sharp horns. When the Minotaur lifts his ax, I draw back my hand, the ball of flame ready to launch.
“Gideon, don’t hurt him!” She gives me her profile and speaks low and steadily to the thing behind her.
Again, I slow my pace, keeping careful watch.
“Are you all right, Rae?” Cole expresses what I would say if I could find my tongue.
“Yes, fine. Sorry. He’s a friend. Come and meet him just … walk nice, okay? You’re scaring him.”
“We’re scaring him?”
My thoughts exactly.
We edge closer, moving slowly to honor her request.
My gaze sweeps the broad head of the bull, the arms and torso of a man that morph into animal legs with hooves. If the thing is Raven’s friend, and helped keep her safe, then he’s off my list to charbroil.
The ache I felt while she was missing amplifies now that we’re together again. A drink of water set before a man dying of thirst, yet kept out of reach. I let Cole worry about the Minotaur while I indulge a moment, absorbing the sight of her.
Wild hair snakes out in all directions, framing a face with both a busted lip and fading black eye. There’s a deep cut on her cheek and one through her eyebrow that will likely scar. Dried blood darkens the skin under her nose. Bruised knuckles, torn clothing, she reminds me of someone who’s survived a war.
She watches me with stormy eyes, the details of her journey written on her battered body. A haunted expression assures me of the suffering she’s endured and my will bleeds out with my heart.
In my mind, I’m on my knees before her in complete surrender, and then that’s where I am. Head down, hands limp at my sides, staring at her boots.
“Gideon, thank God you’re safe.” She kneels, but doesn’t touch me. Why would she? Her chin lifts. “Cole, sit down. You look ready to drop.”
Cole obeys, and together we form a small circle. His smile is weary and fleeting. “It’s good to see you, duck.” Leaning over, he drops a quick kiss on her forehead. I don’t miss the subtle wink he sends me as he straightens.
No spark of jealousy rekindles at their meeting. I feel nothing but gratitude everyone’s alive.
Raven’s hands tremble. As if she can’t contain herself any longer, she throws her arms around the both of us and pulls us in for a hug.
I’m not a group hug kind of guy, but if it means holding Raven, I’ll do it. My palm gently cradles her head. I lose count of the kisses I press to her temple.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers.
I don’t know if she’s talking about me, or Cole, or both of us, and I don’t give a damn. “You, too,” I answer, words muffling against her hair. When I finally force some distance between us, I realize Cole has edged aside. He sits a little apart, pretending not to watch.
Rae studies my face. “What happened to you?” She glances at Cole, eyes narrowing over his shredded ear. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“Not everything, surely.” He pulls a face, but a smile leaks through.
“Yes, everything. I have news for you, too, and oh, wait … I have a surprise.”
She springs up, excitement in her smile. I don’t know where her strength comes from. She looks beat down, beat up, skin and bones, and she’s the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. When she stumbles, I’m halfway up to catch her.
“I’m okay, Gideon. Stay there.”
As I settle back down, I watch her search the ground a few feet away. She picks something up and stuffs it into her shirt.
Cole looks over, giving me one of his single shoulder shrugs.
The Minotaur waits near us, a formidable sentinel. One ear twitches at a fly. His nostrils leak an impressive string of snot onto the ground. His gaze tracks Rae’s every move. Instead of suspicion, I’m strangely relieved he’s around.
Cole, however, glares at him. “Oi, remember me, mate? You tried to take my arms off once. Don’t imagine I’ll be forgetting it either.”
Whether or not the bull remembers, he doesn’t respond with more than a bored huff.
“Here we go, guys!” Raven says, striding toward us. It’s so damn cute how happy she seems, dividing her treasure of apples between us, including the Minotaur. Her gaze keeps sliding to mine. Easily caught because I don’t even try to pretend I’m not staring at her.
I smile as her eyes snap forward, but her cheeks redden, giving her away.
We crunch on apples and take turns relaying what happened after the Draugar separated us in the swamp. Cole recounts our run-in with the witches (omitting our embarrassing display with the sirens, of course). I talk about our increasing power.
When its Rae’s turn, she folds up, resting her chin on her knees. My hands curl to fists hearing her story. Emotion weakens her brave front, and before long, her black lashes divide into wet, glistening spikes.
I need to hear this, even if the words flay my soul. I reach over and grip her forearm. The light pressure is meant to encourage. She laughs without humor and wipes her nose on her shirt.
After a pause, she shares how she traveled through the trees, and how some betrayed her. I marvel at her resourcefulness, but then, she’s had to be. We all have.
“And now for the best part … ” She calls to the Minotaur. Her friend lumbers over, and I’m forced aside to accommodate his mass. The animal drops to the ground between us, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle. Rae’s arm wraps his thick neck and she scratches his wide, flat face. A smile lights her eyes. “Isn’t he great? He loves it when you rub his head like this.”
I won’t be rubbing his head, no matter how great he is.
Cole shakes his head. “He’s not a lap dog, you know.” He slaps his thighs. “I can’t bloody well believe it. You’re mates with the thing that nearly tore my head off. He broke my leg!”
Rae frowns. “I’m sorry, but that was Pan’s doing. Ferdy isn’t like that. Not anymore.”
“Ferdy? You two chat, do you?”
“No. Not like you and I do, but I understand him, and his moods, and he seems to understand me. Like with the trees, I sense their meaning. It’s hard to explain.” She hesitates. “There’s something else. I’ve seen Rose.”
“Pardon?”
She rubs the back of her hand under her chin. “I found Rose. Ferdy got her out of her tower, by the way, so maybe you’ll like him better for that. Anyway … now don’t freak out, but Pan showed up right before you got here. I think I know where he took her, but—”
Cole is on his feet, and I’m not far behind. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah, no. That’s it exactly.” She grabs his hand and tugs. When he hesitates, she holds a shushing finger to her lips, then points to the ground.
Halfway between a sit and a stand, I lower my ass again, torn between ending our mission, and heeding the stubborn set of Rae’s jaw.
“What?” Cole peers both directions down the overgrown trail. A muscle in his cheek twitches, and I know exactly what he’s feeling.
“That! The whole going off half-cocked thing, we’ve done enough of that. We need rest and a plan.” She makes vague hand gestures in the air. I assume she means Pan, but she sucks at charades, and I’m really not sure. Cole seems as mystified as I am.
Blowing an impatient breath, she bends over, scraping mulch from the soil until the area is smooth. Pushing Ferdy aside, she tugs a stick from beneath his tree-trunk sized leg and starts scratching in the dirt. Cole and I crowd together reading Rae’s message.
Void is wired. Pan hears all.
Suddenly, everything seems a whole lot clearer.
After admitting he was “knackered” and was going for a “kip,” whatever the hell that means, Cole fell asleep. He lies on his side under a rubber tree leaf, snoring. I must have dozed off too, and I’m guessing for quite a while, because moonlight sifts beneath the rising sun, trimming purple clouds in gold.
Of the three of us, Rae got the least rest. She insisted on keeping watch, citing her new skill of leeching energy from the surrounding plant life does the same work as sleep.
I rise and head her direction. Bugs flit from my tramping steps, their wings little more than flashes in the meager light.
Raven’s arms rise over her head, back arching like a taut bowstring. Even here in the muck and chaos, her beauty punches a hole in my chest.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Her smile is quick, a fleeting spark and gone too soon. “Rested?” she asks, her tone overly polite.
“Yes. You?”
“I’m fine.”
Fine. I gesture toward the pile of leaves at her feet. “Mind if I sit with you a while?”
She scoots over, though we have the whole jungle.
My ribs complain at the puncture site as I bend. The pain worsens every day, and I smother a grunt.
My head hangs back, and I study the sky. Faintly orange, the sun will make her appearance soon. In a few hours, we’ll face Pan. I feel the truth of it, but whether we’ll win or lose, I can’t say. Our plan, scratched in the dirt, is shaky at best.
I sneak a glance at Rae, watch the sky, her face again. The flush of her cheek is more complex than the colors painting daylight, her eyes more mysterious than the fading stars. “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s all right.”
She picks up a leaf, following the yellow veins with her fingertip. “I figured it was something like that … confession, amends?” The edge in her voice is razor sharp. “It’s not necessary, Gideon. We’re cool.”
This is every bit as bad as I imagined, but I gird my loins and head into the lion’s den. “I have no right to ask, but I want to tell you something, if you’ll hear me out.” My lie stands between us, deep as an oceanic trench. I feel my racing heartbeats all the way up my neck. “Remember my last trip to New York?”
She doesn’t answer. I can’t read her and wish she’d look up, but she studies the leaf instead.
“I met with the board, and they explained changes happening at Maddox. Do you know what a hostile takeover is?”
Raven flips the leaf over.
“That’s okay,” I go on, nerves sparking when she won’t answer. “It doesn’t matter. The bottom line is … that I don’t have one anymore.”
Her brow knits, clearly confused, but she still won’t look at me.
“Bottom line … you know, as in profit and loss reports, get it?”
Crickets.
“Sorry, lame joke.” Oh God. Shut up, fool! Before I die of abject humiliation, I blurt the rest. “Raven, they took Maddox Industries away from me. I don’t own it anymore.”
I get my wish when she finally meets my gaze, the hurt inside her eyes is my crucible to bear. It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to turn away, but I don’t. I owe her this.
“How can they do that?”
“I became a convenient scapegoat to cover theft and mismanagement issues. I’m the sacrifice. Everything I had belongs to them now.” Somehow, her trembling lip affects the wound in my chest. I break our gaze, but it doesn’t ease the pain. “I can’t fund your career or support you financially.” When I pluck a weed from the ground, Raven winces. “I’m sorry. Damn it, I forgot.” I offer her the broken plant. “I never meant to hurt you, and that’s all I seem to do.”
She quietly lifts the dying blade from my palm.
“They can’t touch your tuition.” Emotion thickens my voice as I mention her future. “At least you’ll have that.” When I shift, my wound stretches, and I duck my head, hiding the pain from her.
Raven tosses her head. “You must be furious.”
“Hm. I was.”
“Not anymore?”
“No.” My fingers catch in my snarled hair, and I yank them free. “I’ll survive.” I find her eyes. “So will you. You’ll be fine, better than fine. Raven, you should … ” I stop myself, disgusted how ingrained the urge to control everything is inside me. I came to set things right. I’m done convincing and coercing. Ordering people around like some delusional tyrant. I rub my jeans with my hands just to give them something to do. “Things I thought were important, and that I was sure I couldn’t live without, have actually come to mean the least. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “It does.”
“I’m sorry I lied. You deserved better, and one day I hope you can forgive me. It’s no excuse, but when I lost everything, I panicked. I wanted to be fair to you and didn’t know what else to do.” My stomach churns with guilt and regret. I could use one of Dane’s right hooks about now.
“It’s okay. I think I understand.”
Okay—she understands why I broke up with her, or okay—just stop talking and leave me the hell alone? “Thank you for that.”
She whips her hair back, brushes her hands together. “Wait, thank you for what? What is it exactly you want me to do with this information, Gideon?”
“I don’t know if you remember, but last year we were in my study and we were arguing.”
“Which time?”
“Point taken.” I swallow around the nonexistent lump in my throat and find it won’t move. “I’d screwed up again. You were leaving, and I stopped you, and I said, ‘I’m new at this and not very good … ’” I motion between us with a finger. “At the time, I meant relationships, but now I know it’s more than that. I’m not very good at being good. Not like you are.”
She looks me dead in the eye. “And I said, ‘I’m not good either. Only God is good enough to judge,’ remember?”
“I do.”
She’d said it first when we talked about the Artisans’ brand of vigilante justice, pointing out the difference between making informed decisions and being “judgmental.”
My hands lift in surrender, and I give her a sad smile, if such a thing exists. “All right, you are not good. What should I say instead? That you are kind and unselfish, talented and brave? Can I tell you that I love the sound of your laugh, and the way you stand on one foot when you brush your teeth? And last year, whenever you wore your messy, morning hair into my kitchen, the sight made me want to throw you over my shoulder and take you back upstairs.”
Her cheeks, bronzed by the climbing sun, steals the air from my lungs. My grin comes easier as more adjectives scroll through my head to describe her. But she’s best at managing monsters: an alcoholic stepdad, a ghost who became a friend, the Minotaur of the labyrinth—and then there’s me.
Rae drops her leaf, then chooses another from the pile at her feet. “You know, when people meet, they bring their pasts with them. Every choice and situation lived becomes part of who we are.” When I smile, her lips curve up. “You like that? My tenth grade guidance teacher shared that little nugget of wisdom.”
“Very wise,” I answer.
“I thought so.” Her expression turns serious. “My point is not every moment is going to be a great or happy one. And that’s okay. I can handle hard times if I love someone and commit to them. The thing is they have to be committed, too.”
“You think I’m not committed to you?” My words are more statement than question.
“I think you mean what you say when you say it, until you say something else. And then you mean that.”
Her words cut, but no more than I deserve. Another swallow of pride, and I answer. “You’re right. Not about my feelings for you, but the rest. Raven, by the time I was eighteen, I thought I was invincible, that I could outsmart, or outmaneuver anyone. Last year, you said you needed time; that you weren’t ready to be in a relationship. I never imagined that was true for me, too. I bullied you into being with me, because you’re what I wanted. I’d already rejected my Artisan heritage, and part of my identity. Then I lost the money. I didn’t know who I was apart from the monster, the … machine my father built me to be. I wouldn’t bend, so I broke, never once imagining that I could start over or be anyone else. Until now.”
Rae stabs the dirt with the heel of her boot. “I never cared about the money, Gideon, only you. When you met me, I was sleeping in a storeroom.” Her head dips. A tear slips down her cheek and guts me as it falls to the ground. “I get it, now. The fairytale only works if the prince lifts the kitchen maid out of poverty, but not the other way around. You never gave me the chance to … ” She tosses her head like she’s clearing an unpleasant thought.
“You’re right. I just couldn’t see it before.”
“Just tell me what you want.”
You. Us. Everything.
I lean forward, cup her cheeks with both palms, gently forcing her gaze up. She doesn’t stop me, though her eyes fill to capacity. “I’m sorry. I was a jackass, and I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust back if you’ll let me. I want there to be an us, Raven. When I broke your heart, I shattered mine.” My hands fall away. “As far as what you should do … I’m not giving any more ultimatums. No advice, or deals, or pressure. Drive your Beetle forever. Choose your friends, where you’ll live, follow your own passions.”
Just let me be a part of it.
“I wish I’d done that from the start.” My voice is too low. I’ve never been so nervous, but I’m going to get this said. “I have nothing left to offer except the future we could build together if you want that, too. I wasn’t ready, but I’m ready now. I love you, woman. Hear that, if you can’t hear anything else. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will. Take your time if you want to think it over, as much as you need. I will always be here.”
In my mind, she throws her arms around me, kisses me, and everything’s forgiven. But in a world of fantasy and make believe, her silence is what’s real. I told her to take all the time she needed, and I meant it. So though her continued quiet stomps the hope I have left, I force a smile. And leave her to her thoughts.