Page 10 of Trapped By Clocks and Hearts

Chapter 4 - Pick Your Poison

Leaning against the windowsill, I clanged on the metal pipe with the hilt of my pocket dagger. With the brass pipework wound all throughout the innards of the building, the banging echoed like a bell, ringing throughout the entire structure of the clock tower. There was no way she could have missed hearing it.

Even as hurried footsteps shuffling from beneath the floor indicated that Allie was coming up, I didn’t stop. Even as I noted the top of her head gradually emerging from the winding staircase, I didn’t stop.

When her eyes met mine, they were already wide with mock incredulity and expectation, and as if an unspoken act of protest, her walking slowed. The damn girl took her sweet, bloody time coming up, finally stopping to stand at the top of the staircase.

I stopped clanging on the pipe, sheathing the dagger back in its hilt at my hip.

Allie paused for another beat. Stuffing her hands in her lab coat pockets, her eyes dull, her tone as deadpan as ever, she finally spoke, “Oh. My. God. What?”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes again, I gave the table by the window a careless wave.

“Supper.”

Allie’s eyes slid over and ever so slightly widened upon noticing the little round table draped in a rich, deep velvet cloth. A copper contraption sitting upon it emitted a soft whirring to keep the tea kettle steaming hot. Edison-bulb candles on golden candlesticks matched the polished brass cutlery and delicate clockwork-themed China. A pyramid of profiteroles and caramel-glazed cream puffs was surrounded by a delectable selection of cured meats, cheeses, dried and fresh fruit, and flowers. Long-stemmed crystal glasses gleamed underneath the glowing ball of witchlight hovering above the table, lending the corner a bit of cozy elegance.

She blinked a few times, half in astonishment, half still in suspicion. “What’s all this?” Her eyebrow quirked up. “Is this…you apologizing to me?”

I retched in my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just thought it might be…beneficial for us to…” I chose my words carefully, “share this meal tonight.”

Down by my hip where Allie couldn’t possibly see or notice, I curled my fingers ever so subtly, and the air thickened with the faintest yellow haze.

My spell was giving off enough pheromones to seduce any living being across my entire desert. A mole rat five miles away would have been tickled pink.

Allie tilted her head ever so slightly to regard me with a look.

Clenching my jaw, I watched for the telltale signs of her succumbing to my spell.

Her eyes didn’t dilate. She didn’t throw herself at my feet. She didn’t move closer. She didn’t do anything.

Those big hazel eyes merely narrowed. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

Perfectly frustrated, I released the breath I’d been holding.

Dammit. That was usually all it took. One look. One smile.

A corner of her mouth turned down in displeasure. “Look, I can take my meals downstairs on my little tray like the unwilling prisoner I clearly am.” Allie whirled around to head back downstairs.

I called out, “Wait.”

She paused in mid-turn, her eyes expectant. “What?”

I dropped my gaze. I was going to have to try a different tack.

Adopting a hesitant, diffident manner, I started again. “Hey. Look. You’re right.” I ran one hand through my hair. “The reason I asked you to dinner was to apologize to you. I am…sorry about what I said,” I conceded, whilst crossing my fingers in my head.

Allie seemed to consider my words for a moment. “Well, I appreciate that.” She cast the food another glance. “I suppose this does look lovely and you did go through all that trouble…”

I didn’t comment. It only took a snap of my fingers but she could think whatever she wanted.

I sat down and gestured my arm for her to take the other seat.

Allie crossed the floor and sat down. Her eyes roved over the food, widening slightly again at the chocolate-covered pastries in particular. “I…this is all so…” Her eyes glowed when she looked up at me again. “This looks wonderful.”

I’ll bet. I sniffed inwardly.

The evening’s spread was certainly a far cry from her daily rations of food that I’d been sending down.