Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) Page 10

  “This is an amazing room,” I murmured, still feeling a bit dazed. “This whole place is amazing.”

  “This is the master bedroom,” she smiled back at me in the mirror, then lifted her eyes to scan the surroundings. “A room fit for a copper king.”

  “This is the master?” I sat up, still trying to shake the reverberations of my orgasm, but feeling a little shocked at the fact that this room was fairly significant. “Holy hell, did we just fuck on Marcus Daly’s bed?”

  “Actually, this mansion belonged to William Clark.”

  “So did we just fuck on William Clark’s bed?” Then a thought hit me. “Wait, was he Clark of Lewis & Clark who mapped out the western half of the US?”

  Raven laughed and turned to face me. “Different Clark. William A. Clark was a copper king, like Daly. Daly’s biggest rival, actually. At one time, he was one of the richest guys in the world. Made millions of dollars a day.”

  I settled my hands at her hips and gave her a smug grin.

  “And we just fucked on his bed.”

  “That we did,” she giggled. “Although I don’t think this is the original.”

  My breath caught, and my mouth started moving before my brain could catch up. “I love that sound.”

  “What sound?”

  “Your giggle. It seems so foreign coming from you, but it does some wild shit to me.” I pulled her close to me, throwing her off balance, and fell back onto the bed again. Before she could react, I rolled over her and kissed her soundly, and she melted into my arms beneath me.

  Suddenly, we heard feet—a lot of feet—tromping up the stairs just outside the room. Voices carried through the halls as the tour group came closer.

  “Shit!” I whispered, knifing up from the soft mattress. I grabbed Raven’s hand, pulling her to stand beside me.

  “Off to the left is the master bedroom, so we’ll start there,” we heard the guide say and the footsteps came closer. The doorknob rattled. “How odd, it’s locked. I must have done that after the last group on accident.”

  There was a jingle of metal, and then a key hit the lock. Raven lurched for the light, flicking it off before we stumbled through the darkness into the adjoining octagonal room.

  “We need to hide,” I breathed, but Raven’s fingertips covered my lips just as the door opened in the other room. She grabbed my hand and led me through yet another doorway. The thought raced through my brain that there were a fuckload of doors right in this area. I had no clue if she knew where she was going, but, God, I hoped so.

  The overhead lights suddenly lit the bedroom behind us, allowing a faint glow to work its way into the room we now stood in, a large bathroom full of white tile. The occupants of the bedroom ooohed and aahhed about the furniture, the sumptuous bedding (I hoped they didn’t look too closely at the bedding), and fixtures. Raven quickly finished tightening up her strings, tying them in a bow at the top, and looked up at me in the almost darkness.

  “Do I look okay?” she whispered.

  “Jesus Christ, when do you not?” I breathed back, and my heart beat heavily in my chest as a faint, vulnerable smile touched her lips.

  She gave her head a tiny shake which dislodged a thick lock of hair that fell down along her cheek. Tucking it back into her pile of curls, she quietly tried again. “What I mean is, do I look like I have not had my brains fucked out in William A. Clark’s bed?”

  I shot her a wicked smile. “What if I like that look on you?”

  Raven rolled her eyes, but with a quiet laugh, and peeked out yet another door that led to the empty hallway before us.

  “Come on,” she whispered, and pulled me out after her, heading for the staircase to the main floor.

  “Jesus, there’s a lot of fucking doors in this house.”

  “It was status symbol,” she explained in a barely audible voice. “At the time Clark built this place, people were taxed on how many doors they had. He had over ninety, which was a way to show the world how rich he was.”

  At the landing halfway down where the stairs turned to go down into the front hall, we met with Lloyd who was heading up.

  “Raven, you’re not going on the tour?”

  She flashed a bright grin at him. “I used to give tours here, remember? I’ve seen it a bazillion times. I was actually looking for you. We’re going to head out.”

  “Okay, cool,” he replied. “It was great seeing you again. I can’t wait until the next steampunk thing. Charlie was just telling me about some of the stuff they’ve got planned for the one in Billings in March. It sounds amazing.”

  “Are you going, then?”

  “Thinking about it. Maybe I’ll see you two there.

  Raven looked up at me with a hint of uncertainty, but then nodded to Lloyd. “Yeah, maybe.”

  Lloyd turned to me and stuck out his hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Drew.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “You too.”

  He quickly headed up the stairs, and Raven gave him a small wave as he turned to the left and headed into the master to meet up with the group. She looked up at me, and a sudden giddiness had us both chuckling quietly as we started back down to the main floor. We had just reached the bottom of the stairs and Raven was digging through her little velvet purse for her keys when Lloyd came bounding back down. His eyes held a teasing light, and he looked just a little too pleased with himself.

  “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.

&nb
sp; 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.

  “I’m Ravenna Pelletier,” Raven told the receptionist at the state hospital. “My mother, Margot, is a patient here and had some sort
of incident this morning.”

  “Let’s see here,” the woman responded clicking through her computer. “Oh, yes, her doctor would like to visit with you and,” she paused and looked over her glasses at me, “and Joe?”

  Raven shook her head. “My uncle Joe is out of town. He’s an OTR truck driver. He should be back tomorrow, though.”

  “Okay, go ahead and read through this, and then sign here,” the receptionist said handing Raven a form. “And I'll need to see your ID.” She looked back to me. “Are you a relative also?”

  “Friend… friend of the family.” I looked down at Raven. “Do they let friends visit?”

  She nodded. “Friends are welcome just like family. Encouraged actually. But you don’t have to… not if you don’t want to.”

  She looked so small and helpless and alone. It was a completely different Raven from any I’d known before.

  “Do you want me to?”

  Say yes. Please say yes. Let me be the strength for you that you’ve been for me.

  She gave me the faintest of nods.

  “Then I want to,” I said.

  Raven smiled sadly as the receptionist pulled out another clipboard with a form.

  “Okay, Mr.…?”

  “Massey. Drew Massey.”

  “Okay, Mr. Massey, fill out this form, and I'll need to see your ID as well.”

  I looked down at the patient visitation sheet before me. It seemed oddly surreal. Not so long ago, it had been like pulling teeth to get Raven to talk at all. And now here I was, standing beside her at the state mental institution to see her mother.

  The receptionist took our signed forms and called for someone to come get us. Once we’d slipped on the “VISITOR” badges, we were led back to the physician.

  “Ms. Pelletier,” the doctor said, “glad you could make it. I’m hoping it will be helpful for you to be here when she wakes up.”

  “Dr. Reynolds, this is Drew, a friend of mine.” Raven looked from him up to me. “Drew, this is Dr. Reynolds. He’s my mom’s LIP.”

  “LIP?” I asked.

  “Licensed Independent Practitioner,” Dr. Reynolds nodded. “I’m her doctor.” He looked from me back to Raven. “Your mom managed to get a hold of something sharp this morning. She went in her room to nap after breakfast. One of the techs thought she was acting a little suspicious and followed to check on her. She had herself pretty cut up, trying to slit her wrists, but she was stopped before she’d done any real physical damage. However, she was very combative and hysterical. We ended up sedating her.”