Page 113 of Deadmen's Queen
She took a deep breath, then smiled. “This way,” she said, leading us through the crowd. As she led us towards the back of the restaurant, I noticed a group of art critics stood together looking in the direction she was leading us. Paige noticed too.
“Oh no, I hope there isn’t anything wrong,” she said.
We pushed through the crowd, and the back wall opened up in front of us. The walls had been hung with black fabric and Paige’s four pieces hung alone, apart from the rest of the showcase. My eyes travelled over each of the paintings, my heart starting to race. The pieces were incredible. Painted in her impressionist style, the bright colours of the flowers had gone, replaced by something I would never have dreamed came from the mind of the shy innocent girl I’d met just eight months ago.
The first painting showed the curled up form of a blonde woman, her face hidden, as shadows pulled at her skin, tormenting her. Dark faces, sneering and twisted, appeared out of the background, barely visible until you looked away. The next showed the woman standing, her face still hidden, surrounded by dark figures, their faces barely discernible, but with the suggestion of skulls. The third showed the woman raised up in the air, her head tipped back, her breasts pushed towards the dark sky, hands on her body, at the mercy of her captors, and the fourth, the fourth had my mouth dropping open.
It was a self portrait, as they all were, but this one showed her face and her naked body in full. In this one, Paige danced freely, looking up adoringly at the three men who danced behind her. Each had skulls for faces. One gazed down at her face from behind, another held her arm, kissing her outstretched palm, and the third was on his knees at her side, his hands on her hips as he looked up at her. Black roses littered the ground at her feet, and there were the barest hints of colour underneath the dark painted background. It was her face I couldn’t take my eyes off though, and the expression of love and joy that she bore.
Blinking, I dropped my eyes to the plaque below the paintings.
“The Deliverance of Persephone by Paige Matthews.”
I looked down at her, still unable to find the words that could even start to describe the emotions that raged through me.
“Paige, that’s incredible…” breathed Tristan.
She sent him a smile, and I saw her shoulders drop a little as she started to relax. She was nervous about us, I realised. About whether we would like them.
“I knew you were talented, princess, but I never saw this coming,” I murmured. “You’ve outdone yourself, Paige.”
“She certainly has.” A tall woman with salt and pepper hair, cut through the crowd and took Paige’s hands in hers. “Paige, I knew you had it in you, but this is outstanding work. I have had so many people approach me tonight just about your paintings. I’ve even had offers to buy them.”
“That’s incredible,” whispered Paige. “People want to buy them, Professor Drake? Really?”
The professor nodded. “I’ve had someone offer me two hundred for them just now, but I said I would have to ask you. They’re so vivid and personal, I didn’t know if you’d feel comfortable selling them.”
“Two hundred pounds?” Paige’s eyes lit up with pride. “That’s amazing. I could give the money to a charity…”
“Not two hundred, Paige,” smiled Professor Drake. “Two hundred thousand.”
Paige’s eyes widened, but I frowned.
“No,” I said.
She looked up at me. “But Bast, I could give the money to a charity and it would do so much good if I sell them.”
I nodded. “I agree.” I turned to Professor Drake. “I want them. Two million. I will not let anyone else have these.”
Even the professor looked shocked. “I mean, I would accept immediately, but there have been several galleries asking after these paintings.”
I nodded. “Of course. I will purchase them immediately, and Paige may have them displayed wherever she wishes.”
Professor Drake beamed. “Fabulous! Thank you so much, Mr Blake, and congratulations, Paige. Now, if you don’t mind me stealing her, I’d like to introduce her to the gallery owners and a few of the critics that are here.”
Paige looked up at me, her eyes shining, but I felt the tremor in the hand that still gripped mine tightly.
“You can do this, princess,” I whispered. “Go and create the life you’ve always dreamed of. We’ll be here waiting when you’re ready.”
She smiled up at me, then disappeared into the crowd with Drake.
“Does she know about tonight?” asked Nate, and I shook my head.
“She had enough to worry about, but I won’t push her if she’s not ready.”
“She’ll be ready,” smiled Tristan.
“How do you know?” I asked.