by Penny Cavan
Midas
I couldn’t figure this girl out. She was an enigma, a puzzle, and I hated puzzles that seemed impossible. She knew all sorts of things I could never have imagined, could read people better than almost anyone I’d ever met, but she hadn’t known what a turtle was. Was she that sheltered, or did she simply choose what was important to know? Could she be as naive as she seemed?
She was trying to hide her awe at my home, that I could tell. There were times that even I found it gaudy, and I had removed many of the gold accents after my father died. I’d had the walls painted an off white and the artwork reframed in intricate wooden frames. I had tried to take some of the art and statues and hide them in a storage area, but the walls had then looked empty and the house awkward. I didn’t point out very many of them anyway as we toured around, instead focusing on the history of the house. She seemed to find that fascinating.
“A little different than you’re used to?” I asked as we walked down another hallway.
“A little? It’s a different world,” she said, letting her hand glide along the smooth wall. “We don’t all get to live like kings, Midas.”
“That’s true. I saw your rooms.” I tried to smile charmingly at her, but she rolled her eyes.
“Oh yes, I know you did. Not only did you see them, you stripped them of all of my belongings.” She sounded bitter.
“I wanted you to be comfortable here,” I said, feeling as if I needed to defend myself.
“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be here? Did you ever think that you could have gotten a lot farther if you hadn’t kidnapped me? Did you ever think it would be creepy to me to know someone had been pawing through my clothes?” She turned to storm off, but of course, she didn’t know where to go.
“The library is at the end of the hall,” I said, backing up. “The glass doors open onto a terrace.” She walked off quickly, but I wasn’t sure if she was mad or upset. But she was right. I hadn’t considered how she would feel as my guest. I hadn’t even thought about it, if I was being honest with myself, and she was a forced guess, not a voluntary one. My mother had always seemed happy here, so I imagined that anyone would.
I left her alone for a few hours, retreating to my office and work. There was nothing and no one here who would bother her. What I’d seen of the markets in the pleasure district had been fascinating, and I wanted to return there to study them. It had seemed almost like a labyrinth, until I had realized that there were four main areas, and each of those had been arranged in a sort of spiral. I wanted to do more research and see if it was a scheme that I could apply in other areas.
“Now, what did you do to get that girl’s hair up?” Ameliya asked when she came in with a plate for lunch. She set it down and waited for an answer with her hands on her hips. “She’s up there in the library staring out the window like her dog died.”
I sighed and pushed away the paper I had been sketching on. “I kidnapped her.”
“There’s more to it than just that, child, and if you don’t see it, then you aren’t as smart as I’ve always thought you were.” She settled into one of the chairs across from my desk looking at me expectantly. Ameliya had always been someone that I could talk to, but I wasn’t sure where to even start. I picked up half of the sandwich and took a bite.
“She’s on a mission of some sort,” I told her. “She managed to break into my vault and take some valuable research which she thinks is important to this mission.” I took another bite, thinking to myself. Breaking and entering was not for the faint-hearted, so whatever this mission was, it was serious for Harlow. “She said something to Nigel about Hollow children.” Ameliya flinched slightly. “What is it?”
“When you were a child, there was a rumor that children and adults who were found to be Hollows were disappearing. It became so big that entire families were leaving the country, often escaping in the dead of night, if they had a Hollow child. The High Council eventually released the information that the children—because it was mostly children—were being sent to special schools where they could learn useful skills. A few of the big families even reported having letters from their children and that they were happy, and the general mumble died down. But there are still stories of children going missing in the night.”
I tapped my fingers on the desktop. This might be what she had been talking about the night before. If she was a Hollow, which I still hadn’t confirmed, she might have been witness to those she knew, or those she identified with, disappearing. It could explain her dedication to her project. “I could put my resources at her disposal,” I said, thinking. “If she could discover that it’s nothing, then she might relax.”
“Midas,” Ameliya said carefully, “are you interested in the girl, or simply getting back what she stole from you?”
“She can touch me.” Ameliya would know how huge that was. Since I was a child, I had wanted someone who could touch me the way my parents had touched each other. I’d only made the mistake once, when I was a child. It was something that only happened once in a man’s life.
“Then don’t worry about what you can do for her. Go talk to her. She’s a human being, not some toy. And she’s not like me or Nigel. You don’t pay her a salary. You need to open up to the girl and let her get to know who you are underneath everything. If she can touch you without the help of a potion, then she is more important than anything else that you have,” she said, gesturing at the papers spread across my desk. “Businesses and money are nothing, but someone to spend your life with is worth more than gold.”
Chapter Eleven
Harlow
The man was infuriating, and he rubbed me the wrong way for no apparent reason. He was so calm about everything including upending my life. I couldn’t seem to calm down and think rationally through this. I had never had this kind of trouble calming myself down, but every time I began to get my annoyance at this arrogant, overbearing asshole of a man, something else came forward in my mind and I got angry all over again. As I sat and fumed in the library, I kept flashing back to the days before the set up. I had seen them watching me. When I’d felt eyes on me, I would turn and see Nigel, or Midas, but I hadn’t known who they were then. They’d seen me playing with Sara and Addy, walking with Meg and her girls. Hell, they had probably watched me burn off some of the sexual tension I’d been feeling with Niko. Of course, they’d have had to be watching through a window for that. He had magic hands, but Niko wasn’t one for a bit of outdoor fun.
And now I was here, stuck in his mansion. It had everything I could have ever desired, and things that could only be dreamed of in the pleasure district. There was electricity and running water. Cool air was blown through the house keeping it at a steady temperature. There were toilets that flushed rather than cracked chamber pots. I still preferred my room at the Golden Drachma, falling asleep to Addy’s giggles and the crackle of a fire.
I stared listlessly at the bowl of soup that Ameliya had brought me. I’m sure it was delicious, but I wasn’t hungry. I stood and stared out of one of the windows at the sunshine.
“The door opens,” Midas said softly behind me. I jumped.
“You walk like a ninja,” I said irritably. “Try making some noise.” I pushed the handle down and the doors opened out onto a large tiled area. This must be a terrace. I walked out and felt the sun melt some of my anger. It smelled like spring out here. There were birds singing and the breeze ruffled the bright green leaves on the trees. I felt him follow me out as I leaned on the thick railing.
“I’ll try to make noise the next time,” he said, leaning next to me. I could hear the humor in his voice. It rankled that I amused him. “Harlow, I’m sorry.”
“For?” I asked. If this was going to be the only apology I got, then I was going to get the whole apology out of him.
He laughed and let his head fall. “I’m sorry that I kidnapped you, interrupting whatever plans you had for your life.”
“Ah!” I said airily, turni
ng and jumping to sit on the railing. “You said the plans I ‘had’ for my life. I think you mean ‘have’. You’ll realize that you were crazy, and we shall go our separate ways.” He slid over next to me and I realized how tall he was. I only had to look down an inch or so into his eyes.
“Harlow, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Now you’re going to pull out all the pretty words and hope that I’ll jump into bed with you tonight. Sorry, honey, it doesn’t work that way.” He coughed and stepped back in surprise, letting me hop down. “You might be fun to play with, but I can already tell you’re the type who’ll get attached after the first time.” I patted the side of his face and walked back into the library.
“Do you know why I wear the gloves, Harlow? Why even Ameliya, who I’ve known since I was an infant, will not touch me?” He grabbed my waist and pulled me back against his body. “Because my touch kills,” he whispered in my ear. “Until I met this girl with hair like spun gold and eyes the shade of blue I could only dream of. She touches me without fear.” He rested his forehead against the side of my head.
“You want me because I’m a novelty,” I said breathily. I was completely affected by him.
“You’re an enigma, not a novelty,” he laughed, freeing me. “A beautiful, probably deadly, puzzle that I want to figure out. Please give me a chance. I want to give you the world, whatever it takes.”
“But you want your research back at the same time.” I spun to face him.
“I want the research back because it’s dangerous.” I could read the honesty in his eyes. When he wasn’t playing hard to read, he was easier to read than a picture book. “It was sealed in that box and placed in the vault for a reason.”
“Will you tell me what it does?” I asked, and he looked away. I shook my head. “You can’t even tell the truth about something as small as that.”
“Harlow, it can kill if that information gets into the wrong hands.”
I huffed a laugh. “It’s already killing, Midas,” I said, and walked away.
I spent the afternoon sitting in Ameliya’s garden. I’d asked if there was anything that I could do to help her and she’d said no, sending me out to enjoy the sunshine. It was day one and I was already at odds with not having anything to do. I wasn’t a person to sit and loaf about, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. I couldn’t spend any more time in that monstrosity of a bedroom, and the library would just lock me back in the endless cycle of “am I mad at him or not” that I’d been locked in this morning. The garden was preferable. There was still fresh soil where Ameliya had been planting, and small sprouts that she had labeled with the names of what I assumed were vegetables. I’d never heard of them, and there were several I wasn’t even sure how to pronounce. I was watching this small slimy-looking lizard near a bird bath when Ameliya came out to get me for supper.
“He means well,” she said gently, sitting on the bench next to me. “He doesn’t say the right thing most of the time, but he’s not used to needing to make people like him.”
“I’m so sorry for him,” I deadpanned. “Miss Ameliya, I’ve spent my life working for everything I have. Forgive me for not feeling very lighthearted toward someone who’s literally had everything handed to him.”
“No need to call me “Miss,” Ameliya will do just fine,” she said, brushing a nonexistent speck off her apron. “The men in this family have it harder than you can imagine. It’s not my place to tell you, but he’s known more hardship than you think.” I sighed and leaned down on my legs.
“I want to go home. There are people depending on me.” She hesitated before patting my back gently.
“You need to tell him that.”
“Like he’d listen. He tricked me and put this stupid bracelet around my wrist and the next thing you know I’m his prisoner.”
She patted my back again. “You never know unless you ask. Now, where would you like your supper tonight?”
I ended up eating in a small study on the first floor. There were two chairs settled in front of a fire with a small table between them. Ameliya made a delicious plate of roasted chicken, stuffing, and mixed vegetables. She had provided a small cake that she called cheesecake for dessert, and, honestly, I could have eaten far more of it. It had a creamy, cold, silky texture with a crumbly crust. She’d topped it with a deep golden-brown sauce she called ‘caramel,’ and it was better than any sex I’d ever had. I could eat that the rest of my life. I half expected Midas to join me, but he was absent during the whole meal. After dinner I retreated to my room after asking Ameliya for something to write on. She’d handed me a bound book of blank paper and something she called an ink pen. I smiled gratefully, not letting on my surprise at them. I’d either seen the wealthy their electric tablets, or those like me who wrote on scraps of paper with broken pencils or wax tablets and styluses. In my room I set the pen to the paper and was amazed at how smoothly it wrote over the page. Day One, and I haven’t killed him, I started. I figured I could chronicle my days here, and maybe use that library to try and figure out the elements of Midas’s serum. I knew where to start. I had found a series of medical texts on several shelves in the library.
I spent hours trying to get comfortable in that bed, but it wasn’t happening. I tossed the pillows off, and more than one of the blankets. I’d even tried taking one of the mattress toppers off, and the bed was still too hard. I sat up, growling. Enough was enough.
I stood, wrapping the light blanket I’d found around me. I was wearing long, silky pants that tied with a ribbon, and a simple bandeau around my chest. It was the most comfortable thing I’d found for nightclothes, but that didn’t mean I wanted Midas to see me in it. I peeked out the door, and when I saw no one, I slipped from my room. I tried the door next to me, and found another guest suite, but the bed had the same problem. It was too soft. Every bed in all the rooms on that floor had the same problem. They were too soft. For years I’d slept on a think mattress on wooden slats. It wasn’t comfortable, but I wasn’t used to my body bending in a vee when I laid down.
I turned the corner and found a set of double doors.
Chapter Twelve
Midas
I stayed at my desk far longer than I should have, but I couldn’t focus. I had pulled several books from the library, trying to recreate some of the knowledge that was in the notes of the Medusa Serum. None of our tests had shown any deaths, but we hadn’t done extensive testing once we figured out that the serum wasn’t doing what we wanted it to do. Garrett, the head scientist on the project, had brought his findings to me and we had quickly ended the program.
When I yawned and looked up to see that it was dark outside, I decided to call it a day. I would spend more time tomorrow trying to convince Harlow to give me a chance. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to get close enough to her to see if I had been imagining the green flecks in her brilliant blue eyes. I closed the books and turned the lights off as I left the room, nodding to Marybeth as she dusted around the knickknacks in the hall. She curtsied slightly with a smile. For years, most of the cleaning staff had worked at night, but now I paused.
“Marybeth, do you like working at night? Would it be easier for you to come during the day?” I asked. She looked at me, surprised.
“Actually, not really,” she said with a shrug. “It was an adjustment when I first stated, but I’m used to the hours now, and it leaves me the afternoons to watch my sibling for my mother, Sir.” She smiled again, shining a spot on the side of a golden statue and setting it back in its niche. “It’s kind of you to worry, though.”
“Of course,” I said, moving back to the stairs. “If that changes, please don’t hesitate to let someone know.” She went back to humming to herself as I headed up to bed. I paused at Harlow’s door, and as I had the night before, raised my hand to knock. Again, I stopped myself. She had been angry earlier. Not angry, more disappointed, disheartened. I sighed heavily. The morning would be soon enough
to disturb her.
I was pulling off my shirt when my eyes ran past my bed and I froze. I put my arms down and stared. There was blonde hair. In my bed. I stumbled a few steps forward and saw Harlow laying there. She was laying on her stomach, one hand was tucked up by her face, the other wrapping under the pillow. She was on top of the covers, wrapped in a dark blue blanket. One leg was bent to the side, and the dim light from the lamps glinted off a small ring around one of her toes. The smooth skin of her back was interrupted only by a band of green material.
She was beautiful, and she was in my bed, right where I had imagined her being. I blinked, but she was still there. I wasn’t dreaming. I sat on the edge of the bed, and she turned to me, muttering something under her breath. One of her hands reached out until it hit my thigh, and then she settled, her hair across her face. I reached out and brushed it from her face without thinking. My fingertips brushed across her skin. Even now, I paused, waiting for the gold to start stretching out across her cheekbones. I released a breath as she kept breathing. I tucked her hair behind her hear and she moved again, muttering. “What are you doing in here?” I asked softly, brushing my hand down her arm.
“Comfortable,” she murmured, her eyelids lifting briefly. I smiled and chuckled slightly. She wasn’t even awake.
“Was your room not comfortable, Sweetheart?”
“Bed too soft,” she said, rolling again so that she was facing the middle of the bed, pulling her blanket closer around her.
“Well, we can’t have that,” I said, smiling. I lifted her legs and worked the blankets out from under her, tucking her in. Once she was settled in and breathing deeply once again, I leaned back. Would it be safe for me to sleep with her? Everything in my rooms, everything in the house was treated with specially spelled cleansers that allowed me to touch them without changing them, but I still didn’t trust that I could touch her. By all that was holy, I wanted to. But I also didn’t want to wake up to find her made of gold. Or to her stabbing me for touching her when she didn’t want me too, and that was probably a more likely situation. I moved over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of sleep pants and pulled them on, tying them tightly around my waist. I pulled a light shirt out of a drawer, glancing back at the bed. Harlow was sleeping comfortably, her hand curled up by her face again. She looked so young, and I remembered that she was nearly ten years younger than me. For the first time, I saw her face without worry, its lines smoothed out, and I sighed. “What am I going to do with you?” I asked her, pulling the shirt over my head and sliding into the bed next to her.