Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) (16 page)

“Hey, Raven, um…”

Raven looked up at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, uh… this,” he said, holding out the large plume feather from her hair, “this was on the floor by Clark’s bed.”

At first, her jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly recovered. “Hmm… fancy that,” she murmured innocently. “Must have fallen out during the tour.”

“The tour you didn’t go on.”

She grinned and shrugged, then grabbed the feather in one hand, my own hand in the other, and yanked me quickly out the door.

“Bye, Lloyd,” she called back with a giggle.

God
, I loved her giggle.

In the time right after the steampunk ball, I began to notice so many little details about Raven that hadn’t been so evident before. When looking at her, there was always so much to see. So many places for the eye to focus. It always came together to create such a unique and vibrant picture that was impossible to ignore.

But now, those little pieces of the puzzle came to my attention.

As she watched me do a tat one day, I glanced over at her. She had pulled her long hair over one shoulder, baring her collarbone up to her ear, and long earrings full of different kinds of chains and gears of copper, bronze, and pewter draped down along the graceful lines of her neck. I heard
The Last Steampunk Waltz
echoing in my mind and could almost
feel
her in my arms. My mouth went dry and for a second, I damn near forgot I had a client sitting in my chair, patiently waiting for me to finish his ink.

The following day, the temperature had dropped below zero, and she arrived at work with a worn, brown leather aviator jacket. It buttoned tight at her waist and fell to her hips in the front, but the back flared out to her knees, accentuating her hourglass figure. It reminded me of similar coats I’d seen at the ball which reminded me of other moments at the ball. Of Raven on her knees before me, looking up at me as she gave me the best head I’d had in all my life.

That afternoon, I was sketching in my office. I had intended to create a custom tat someone had requested, a memorial to a lost loved one. Yet, all I could think of was Raven, and before I knew it, I’d drawn her instead. Her silhouette, looking up at me through her lashes. Her hair falling in tousled curls to frame her face. I found myself adding little bits of lace, feathers, and cogs. Detailing the fabric of her corset and adding a miniature top hat with netting that draped down to obscure her eyes. Taking little bits from all the creations I’d seen at the Copper King Mansion, I finished it off with a delicate cameo choker, set in an ornate arrangement of various styles of fine chain.

I stared at it for the longest time, wondering how she had come to occupy so much of my thoughts. I felt fucking obsessed. Creeperish. This was not normal behavior for me. As much of a force as Maggie had been in my life, I’d never once been consumed like this. Raven was always somewhere in my mind, never more than a split second from conscious thought.

That realization was incredibly unsettling.

I set the sketch to the side so I could work on the tat, but not out of sight. Not yet. It was like I had to have her there with me while I worked, even though the real thing, living and breathing, was only in the other room.

But having it there was enough to do what I needed to do. To work out the customer’s design just in time for their appointment. I slipped the sketch of Raven under a pile of papers as the bell on the front door rang, and I headed out front to meet with the customer.

After my client had left, I headed back into my office to see Raven sitting on the couch adding photos of clients' work to the albums we kept up front. I instantly panicked a little, glancing to my desk to see the faintest corner of my sketch peeking out from under the papers, but seeing it safe and sound right where I’d left it. Raven needed things to stay free and easy, and I had a feeling she’d see my sketch of her as anything but.

Using the Bluetooth connection between my phone and printer, I printed out a photo of the ink I’d just finished and took it over to where she was working, sitting on the couch beside her.

“That’s beautiful,” she murmured, taking the picture from me. She narrowed her eyes a little and glanced up at me, pointing to some fine detail work around the edge of the portrait. “Is that a cog? And a pocket watch?”

“Guess I had steampunk on the brain,” I nodded with a faint smile.

“I love it,” she grinned and deftly slipped the picture into a blank space in the book. “Do you have any more appointments today?”

“Nope, that was the last one. Didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I had a ton more time blocked off for it.”

Her cell rang and I glanced down where it sat between us to see a name on the display.

It simply said
Joe
.

Who the fuck was Joe?

Raven had never mentioned anyone named Joe. Raven never mentioned anyone at all, actually.

She gave me a cautious look as she picked it up. Setting the album aside, she stood and turned away, answering in a low voice.

“Hey,” she said. Then silence as she listened, and I heard a catch in her breath. “Is she okay?”

What? Who? Was who okay?

“Um… how far away are you?” she continued, turning towards me with a worried frown. “Okay, I'll go. I can be there in about an hour.” Her eyes shifted away from me again. “Right, bye.”

Ending the call, she bit her lip before glancing up at me.

“Everything okay?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“Yeah…" she trailed off as she grabbed her purse and jacket. “I just, um… I have some things… to take care of.”

“What kind of things?”

“I just have to… go.”

She quickly left the room heading up to the front counter. I followed to find her scanning through the appointment book.

“I only have one appointment this afternoon.” With a quick scribble, she had the number down on a scrap of paper that she stuffed in her pocket. “I'll give them a call on my way and reschedule.”

“Rave—”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she murmured distractedly on her way out the door, but I beat her to it, pushing it shut just as she tried to open it. She frowned up at me as I stood in her path, not allowing her to leave. “Drew, I have to go.”

“What’s wrong? Who’s Joe?”

She averted her eyes, possibly trying to come up with some way to avoid telling me anything. I knew I was prying, but something had her rattled, and I wanted to help.

“Drew—”

I leaned back against the door and folded my arms over my chest in defiance, and she looked back up at me. Finally, she exhaled and closed her eyes. “He’s my uncle. My cousin Lacey’s dad.”

“Was the call about Lacey? Did something happen?”

“No, it isn’t Lacey.” She shook her head. “Please, just let me go.”

“Where? Where are you going?” When she didn’t respond right away, I pushed a little more. “Who was the call about, Rave?”

Dread and concern took hold in my gut as I watched her closely, but, with a fierce, mutinous expression, she pressed her lips together.

“Stay right here,” I instructed. I stepped away from the door towards the hall, keeping a glimpse of her in the corner of my eye, then quickly made a beeline back to the room where Neil was doing a tat. He looked up when I poked my head through the doorway, lifting the tattoo gun from the scrolling lines of a peacock feather up a woman’s back. The bell on the front door jingled, telling me Raven had ignored my command and was heading out to her Jeep. I didn’t have much time.

“Hey, Raven has to split and I’m going with her. Can you cover the shop for a bit?”

“Yeah, man,” he replied, arching his brow at my rattled expression. I felt kinda like a junkie that needed their next hit, and apparently it kinda showed on my face. “I’m almost done here.”

“Cool,” I replied, already heading out of the room. “I'll see you later.”

She was already backing out of her parking space when I got outside, but I stepped in front of her Jeep to once again block her path. She’d have to run over me before I was going to let her leave without telling me what was going on. With her eyes narrowed on me, she stopped, and I quickly went to the passenger side and hopped in.

“So,” I said, “where are we going?”

“Drew, really, you don’t want to go with me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this isn’t going to be fun.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Dammit, Drew…” she trailed off.

“Seriously, Rave,” I said in a calm, concerned tone. “You do shit for me all the time. I want to help.”

She fought it. She didn't want to tell me, but at the same time, I think she kinda did. The battle was internal as much as it was with me.

“I’m going to Warm Springs,” she finally murmured.

“The town in general or actually to the state mental hospital?” I asked uneasily.

This was uncharted territory. Raven had worked for me for going on two years, but I knew so little about her. I knew her body like the back of my hand, yet she was so secretive about everything in her life. Even after dropping that bombshell, she tried to put me off.

“The hospital, but it's nothing… really,” she began.

“People don’t go to the state psych hospital for nothing.”

“No, you're right. They don't.”

“You know someone there, I take it?”

She looked back up at me, a wary shadow crossing her face.

“My mom,” she said at last.

I’m not really sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that, said with such stark honesty. For a second, I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I’m sorry,” I offered after a long while.

“I have to…" she trailed off and nodded towards the road ahead, indicating that she wanted me to get out so she could leave.

I responded by reaching back, grabbing the seat belt, and buckling it across my lap.

“Let’s go.”

It took a second for her reservation to ease away, but she eventually gifted me with a slight sad smile. Then she dug into her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with the phone number on it. “Well, at least make yourself useful and cancel my appointment, boss.”

So I did just that as she put the Jeep in gear and we headed out of town towards Warm Springs.