Midas Touch (The Hollows Book 1)

by Penny Cavan

  “It’s heavily implied though. Look at this part,” Harlow pointed at a paragraph. “’While a child may have until their fifth birthday before being declared a Hollow and without powers, a parent may make the declaration earlier. This is recommended in the case of a family who is struggling to feed their family, as the child then becomes a ward of the City, and the City is responsible for their fate’,” she read.

  “Fate is an interesting word choice,” Nigel said, “which is why I included that one.” Harlow set the papers down and took a deep breath. Nigel looked at her worriedly but continued. “It’s not the only time that fate is used that particular way.”

  “Excuse me,” Harlow said, walking to the balcony.

  “I didn’t realize,” Nigel started, and I cut him off.

  “She’ll be okay. I imagine that it’s difficult reading the actual laws that all but state a government ordered genocide. What about the other matter?”

  Nigel shook his head. “I can’t figure out who might have sent her that letter. I’m sorry.”

  “I want to know who knew that information was in the vault,” I said, pacing. “Who else could have possibly known it was there?”

  “The only thing that I can think of is that Craig told someone about it before he died,” Nigel said. “But he wasn’t married, and he had more affairs than I can remember, so tracking them all down is almost impossible.”

  “Damn Craig,” I said softly. “Did you ask Allen?”

  “Not outright, but he cursed that whole project when I even mentioned it. I backed off.” I paused, thinking about that. “I don’t know that we’ll ever know for sure how the information got out.”

  “Thank you, Nigel,” I said, setting the packet down. He nodded.

  “I would like to talk to Sara,” he said, buckling the flap on his jacket. “I’d like to see if there’s anything she remembers from the person who gave her that message.” I nodded.

  “I’ll take Harlow back to the pleasure district to see them all in a few days. If you go before we do, let me know what you find. Thank you. I know this is a difficult task,” I told him. I was already planning on giving him a bonus for this. His work had been exemplary.

  Harlow was sitting on the bannister of the terrace, staring out toward the pond. She wiped a hand roughly over her cheek. “Harlow,” I said softly, and she stiffened. I stood behind her and waited for her to relax.

  “I knew that there were a lot of people that hated Hollows,” she said softly, “but it’s different when you see the laws that say a parent could willingly give up a child, or that a five year old would be taken from their family.” I rubbed her shoulder, and she leaned back against me. “What if I have a Hollow child?”

  “If we have a Hollow child,” I told her, turning her to face me, “that child will grow up knowing that their parents cared enough about their future to take down whoever is behind this.”

  “You mean that?” she asked. I nodded.

  “We’re in this together, Harlow.” She leaned down and kissed me. There was something that almost seemed like desperation in her kiss. I groaned and pulled back. “Harlow, maybe we shouldn’t—”

  “We definitely should,” she said, leaning forward and pulling me between her legs. She wrapped her fingers in my hair and tipped my head back. I gasped and kissed me again, her tongue sliding into my mouth. I ripped my gloves off and my slid my hands under her shirt. I groaned again when I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. I pulled her down off the rail and stripped her shirt off, admiring her tits in the sun. She unbuttoned my shirt, practically ripping it open and running her hands over my chest. She grinned and dropped to her knees, unbuttoning my pants. I would never get tired of seeing her on her knees like this.

  She pulled my cock from my pants and pumped it a few times before wrapping her mouth around it. My head fell back and I gasped, shuffling my legs wider to give her more access. “God, Harlow,” I growled, wrapping her hair in my hand. I held her head still, thrusting my hips forward, fucking her mouth like I would her pussy. She put her hands on my hips, letting her pull her mouth free and she took a gasping breath, looking up at me with tears in her eyes. The tears weren’t from sadness this time.

  I pulled her to her feet and spun her, bending her over the rail. I bucked my hips into hers, pushing her against the cold stone. “Is this what you want?” I growled in her ear, using her hair to pull her head back towards me.

  “Yes,” she moaned, rubbing her hips against me. I used one hand and dragged her skirt up, arching her back by tugging her hair. I kissed down her neck, listening to her pant.

  I let go of her hair to hold her skirt in the middle of her back, taking a moment to admire the curve of her ass covered in green lace. “These are in the way,” I said, gently pulling them down. I gently bit her ass check, bringing one hand back up to slip into her pussy. She was already soaking wet. I bit the other cheek, grinning as she tightened around my fingers. She whimpered when I pulled them out.

  I lined the head of my cock up and shoved into her, pushing her against the railing. She gasped, arching her back. I thrust again, faster, pulling her hair. She just got wetter, panting and moaning with each thrust. I could already feel the pressure building, and her breathing was coming faster and faster. Neither one of us was going to last long. I reached around with one hand and found her breast, squeezing the nipple and twisting it. She tightened around me, close to orgasm. I reached for the other nipple, shoving harder, keeping her pressed against the rail so she had nowhere to go. As soon as I twisted her other nipple, she came, her pussy tightening around my cock. I pulled her head back so she was almost standing. “I’m never letting you go,” I growled, thrusting harder. “You are mine, Harlow.” She spasmed around me again and I bent us both over, thrusting furiously until she came a third time, dragging me with her. My hand tightened in her hair and I buried my head in her shoulder.

  Harlow shivered and I stood with a sigh. “Let’s go get warmed up,” I said gently, rubbing her back. I fastened my pants and took my shirt off so I could wrap it around her. She turned towards me and smiled sleepily. She ran a hand through her hair and my heart froze. I pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head as I wrapped the shirt around her. I gently probed with my power and sensed gold running through her hair. My gold. I had thought she was immune to my powers, but this was proof that she wasn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Harlow

  I frowned when Midas left me to shower alone. He said that he had a meeting he had to go to, kissing me gently and pushing me toward the shower while he went to get dressed. That wasn’t how Midas usually reacted after sex. I bit my lip, watching him through the partially closed door. He leaned on his dresser, staring at his hands. He shook himself and pulled a white undershirt from a drawer.

  I showered, taking extra time to wash and deep condition my hair. I sat on the bench while the conditioner was in my hair, thinking. What could have upset him? I rinsed my hair and quickly washed my body, wallowing in the fresh apple scent. When the water finally started to get cold, I stood and turned the water off. I shivered stepping into the bedroom. Something felt different and I wasn’t sure what.

  Ameliya was humming to herself in the kitchen when I came in. She smiled at me when I turned. “Hello, dear! What can I do for you?”

  “Midas had to leave,” I said with a shrug and she frowned.

  “That’s odd. I thought that he said he didn’t have anything else to worry about at the office,” she said, measuring flour into a bowl. It felt like a blow.

  “Well, he headed there not long after Nigel left, so can I help you with anything?” I sat on a stool watching her. Ameliya looked up at me, then handed me another bowl.

  “I’m making something called mille-feuille,” she said. “You can make a batch along with me.” I smiled, grateful for something to do. “Now, ‘mille-feuille’ means ‘thousand layers’ and the most important part is going to be this pastry base that we’re s
tarting now.”

  Midas wasn’t home by the time I went to bed that night. I sighed, brushing my hair and braiding it so that it wouldn’t tangle overnight. I sat in bed to read, but it was almost midnight and he still hadn’t come in. Delly purred on the pillow next to me.

  “What do you think upset him?” I asked her, and she lifted her head to look at me. She blinked slowly, adjusting herself so that she could set her head down on her paws. I slid down in the bed, looking her in the eyes. She cocked her head. “You think it wasn’t me?” She tilted her head the other way. I laughed a little, feeling like I was going to cry. “If it wasn’t me, why isn’t he here with me?” She reached out a paw and set it against my forehead, settling in and closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Delly,” I whispered, reaching out to pet her.

  I knew he’d slept in our bed, but he was gone again the next morning. Delly was once again on his pillow, but the blankets were pulled down. I sighed and scratched the cat’s head before rolling out of bed. I pulled on loose clothes and a long robe and headed to the terrace. I curled up on a chair again, hugging my knees.

  I’d been sitting there long enough for the sun to come over the top of the house when Ameliya came out. She pulled a small table over and set a plate down. She pulled a blanket from over her shoulder and wrapped it around me. “I saw him leaving this morning,” she said softly. “If it makes you feel better, he looks as awful as you do.”

  “What did I do to upset him?” I asked in a small voice. She rubbed my shoulder.

  “I don’t know what he’s thinking, but it’s clear as day that boy loves you. He will come around, just give him time. While we wait for him to pull his head from where the sun doesn’t shine, you need to eat.” She handed me a bowl of oatmeal. “I put honey and cinnamon in it to sweeten it up for you. I want to see you eat it all.” I nodded taking the spoon. “Good girl. Come down to the kitchen when you’re done, and we’ll find something to keep you busy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Midas

  For three days I had managed to stay away during the day. I dragged myself out of bed before the crack of dawn, disentangling myself from Harlow. The cat would hiss at me from my own pillow as I got dressed, and then I went to the office, where I worked on things that could have been done by anyone else. Nigel watched me worriedly, but he hadn’t asked me what was wrong. I sent him home long before I left every night.

  It was Friday now, and I wouldn’t have an excuse to come to the office. I’d have to go home and face Harlow. I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t even know how I would explain it. I rubbed my face with one hand.

  “Sir?” Nigel asked. I looked up and found him standing in front of my desk. “May I speak plainly?” I nodded. “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks,” I said wryly. I’d been going on four hours of sleep for three days. I could look in a mirror and see what Nigel was seeing.

  “Why don’t you go home?” he asked gently. “Let Ameliya make a good meal for you, and let Harlow take care of you.”

  “I can’t do that, Nigel.” I turned to the windows behind my desk, watching the people go by. “I can’t risk hurting her.”

  “I think you might be hurting her simply by staying away,” Nigel said. “Every time I’ve seen you, you’re practically attached at the hip. Did you even tell her what you’re doing all day?” I didn’t want to tell Nigel that I hadn’t spoken to her since the last time I’d seen her. Well, I had spoken to her, but she hadn’t been awake to answer. Nigel sighed. “If you won’t go home, would you like to go to the pleasure district with me? I want to talk to Sara, and maybe Meg can help cut through whatever has got you tied up in knots.” I nodded without turning back to him. I watched him shaking his head. “I have a few things to finish up. Will you be ready to go in about an hour?”

  “I’ll be ready,” I told him, turning back to my desk. He nodded sadly and left. I waited until I heard him walk down the hall before standing and walking to the wall of statues. I set my hand down on the kitten, perfect to the whisker. It was a lesson that I had learned the hard way, as had every one of my ancestors. One touch could destroy something you loved. I studied the wall, noting how many of my ancestors had learned that lesson with a young animal. I didn’t understand why the parents kept getting pets for their animals when they knew that their child probably couldn’t remember what they needed to keep that pet safe.

  I pulled off my tie and jacket, throwing them over a chair before walking to the door to the vault. I set my hands on the wall and waited for the stairs to appear. At the door to the vault I paused, grinning slightly as I thought of Harlow getting this far. It was hard enough to get to this point that this door wasn’t even locked. It was a simple latch. I pulled it open and walked into the vault. The lights came on with motion and made the room glow. I looked around at all the treasures in this room. The most dangerous secrets of my family, and our most treasured possessions. I touched the edge of my mother’s jewelry box with a slight smile, then turned to find what I’d come down to see.

  In the back alcove was an ancient statue of a young woman. “Hi, Zoe,” I said softly, sitting on the floor in front of the statue. I knew she wouldn’t answer, but it felt as if she was listening to me. There was a slight furrow in her forehead, and her eyes were soft. Her mouth was open ever so slightly. “I met this amazing girl. You saw her in here not too long ago. Her name is Harlow.” I poured my soul out to Zoe, telling her all my fears. By the time I was done, it felt almost as if she was smiling at me, although I knew the statue hadn’t moved. I stood and took her hand. I wished that there was some way to take her out of her golden stasis, but even if there was, I didn’t know if she could survive.

  “Ready, Sir?” Nigel asked, coming back to the office as I shrugged back into my coat.

  “Let’s start with the Golden Drachma,” I said, “and catch Sara before she gets too busy. “Then we’ll go to Meg’s.” Nigel nodded, and we headed out, careful to lock my office door behind me.

  It was a quiet drive to the district, and once more Nigel parked in a lot outside the district itself. “What exactly are you hoping Sara knows?” I asked him as we strolled to the Inn.

  “Whoever delivered the message. If it was delivered by the writer, she may remember a distinctive feature to help track him down. If it was delivered by a courier, it’s possible the courier may remember something,” he said, holding the door open. The room was filled with people talking. Sara and Arida were dodging through the customers with trays.

  “Find a spot and I’ll be right over,” Sara called to Nigel and me. I headed through the people to a small table near the far wall. Nigel sat across from me, watching the people in the room.

  “The variety of people here is amazing,” he said softly. “And there doesn’t seem to be any acrimony between the different groups.”

  “It’s amazing what a good beer can do,” I answered just as softly. Sara came by right then and set two beers down.

  “Almost as if I read your minds, isn’t it, gentlemen?” she said with a wide smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “We’ll take the special each,” I said, and she nodded brightly. “Also, my friend here has a couple questions for you if you have a moment.”

  “Sure!” she said. “Let me grab your dinner and check on my guests, then I’ll pop back over. Is that okay?” she asked Nigel and he nodded. She headed off.

  “What is the special?” Nigel asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I’m hoping it’s that pot pie,” I replied, nodding to the table next to us. “It smells better than Ameliya’s. You are never to tell her I said that.” Nigel nodded emphatically. We sat and watched the people for about ten minutes, watching Sara wind her way in and out of the tables with mugs of beer and plates of food. Eventually she dropped off two pot pies for us.

  “What would you like to know?” she asked Nigel, one hand on her hip.

  “My name is Nigel, and I know Harlow,” he said. Sara jumped.


  “We’ve been so worried about her! Is she okay?” Sara exclaimed.

  “She’s fine,” I said. “I’ll bring her by to visit soon. She talks of you and Addy often.”

  “Tell her that we both miss her. Mama, too,” she said, nodding to me. I found myself nodding at the same pace that she was. She turned back to Nigel.

  “We were wondering about the note that got delivered to her here,” Nigel asked. “She said that it came to you before her. Do you remember anything about who delivered it?”

  “It was brought to me by Dinah, one of Tabitha’s girls. Tabitha is a dressmaker down the street. She said that it was left on the counter in the shop with Harlow’s name on it.” She frowned. “That’s probably not very helpful, is it?”

  “More helpful than you think,” Nigel said soothingly. I nodded. The fact that someone had left the note to be delivered by a third party meant that the sender didn’t want to be located. It was, unfortunately, a dead end.

  “Anything else?” Sara asked.

  “Just another beer, please,” I said, lifting my mug. She nodded happily and headed off.

  “Well, that’s that,” Nigel said with a frown.

  “It’s alright, Nigel. It was a long shot anyway.”

  We’d been at Meg’s for several hours, sitting in the garden, before she found us.

  “Care to tell me why you’re here, in my establishment, without Harlow?” she asked, hands on her hips. I looked up at her, barely noting her nearly unclothed state. Nigel gulped.

  “Harlow doesn’t need to be with me at all times,” I said condescendingly. “Distance is helpful in any relationship.”

  “Distance?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at me. “Distance? You are at an establishment that advertises entertainment for payment,” she bit out. “You think that’s an acceptable kind of distance in a relationship?”