Blood And Guitars

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I was still working on the same painting when I sensed Mark outside the building. A moment later he stepped inside and said, “Care for some company?”

“Come on up.” I called down from the loft as I squeezed a little more brown paint onto my palette.

Mark climbed the stairs in a quick rush of air and was by my side half a second later. He leaned against the table and removed his glasses to wipe them gingerly on the bottom of his grey button-up shirt. He leaned forward and gazed at my painting with an appraising eye. “Interesting,” he said in a cheerful voice. “What inspired this piece?”

“The buffet,” I answered as I picked up a different brush.

He gave me an approving nod and popped his knuckles for a second before asking, “Where do you think the lunar eclipse ritual will be held?”

“Somewhere expensive,” I answered.

“That goes without say.” He sighed. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Why are you so excited about this anyway?”

“Aren’t you?”

I shrugged. Somehow I doubted seeing Synod again would be a life-altering experience for me.

“The guys are practically ancient,” Mark continued enthusiastically. “Not to mention the fact that they’re in charge.”

“All the more reason to see as little of them as possible,” I teased.

Mark rolled his eyes at me. “We only do this once a year,” he added. “It’s a break from the mundane, at least. Don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” I finally agreed. “Now can we forget about the Synod for the rest of the night? All this talk about their eternal control and authority is killing my creativity.”

“Whatever you say.” In a blur of movement Mark was at my iPod dock, fiddling with my music selection.

I took a deep breath and stepped back to appraise my painting, or what was done of it. In the back of my mind I was vaguely aware of a human outside of the shop, who I assumed was just passing by until I heard a knock on the front door downstairs. Mark, who must have sensed the same thing, whirred around to face me at the sound.

“Were you expecting someone?” he asked curiously.

I shook my head and put my paintbrush down, leaving Mark in the loft as I went to the stairway to peek at the front of the shop. It happened almost simultaneously. I sensed him just as I peeked over the partial wall and saw him peering in through the glass of the front door.

It was Trey.

He saw me and waved. I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face at the sight of him. It was ridiculous, really. I gestured to the side of the building and then toward the back of the shop. He nodded and then disappeared around the corner.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked from over my shoulder.

“Nothing,” I said innocently. Then, I glanced behind me at the tell-all painting I had been working on and was tempted to cover it. Realizing there wasn’t time, I reminded myself that it was on a different level than the rest of the shop and would remain out of sight.

“You know him.” Mark didn’t phrase it as a question.

Ignoring his observation, I rushed down the steps and was standing at the back door a half second later, pulling it open as Trey reached out for the handle.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

Trey smiled, looking a little relieved. I’d forgotten how adorable that half-smile of his was. “I’m glad I caught you here.”

“Me too.” And I was. Okay, so maybe Trey stopping by when Mark wasn’t around would have been better but I knew that Mark wasn’t about to go away now that I’d made the night interesting for him. “Come on in.” I pulled the door open all the way, stepping back to let Trey inside. He was wearing a t-shirt and expensive jeans with a pair of black vans. He looked great. Again.

“I was just driving by and I saw a light on so I thought I’d stop and see if you were in.”

“Kacie said you were here earlier.” I wasn’t sure whether I should bring up the fact that he’d bought a painting or not. “I’m surprised you found me.”

“I recognized your style from the pieces on display in the front window. You didn’t tell me you had your own place on Cleveland.”

 I shrugged with one shoulder. There were a lot of things I hadn’t told Trey about, the least of which was The Waking Moon.

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