Page 50 of The Spider Queen
I shoved the disappointment away and focused on the night out. Looking around, I realized we weren’t in the hubbub of town, but off of the main drag. It was darker, quieter, and just a tad sinister.
“Aren’t we going to Frenchie’s? It’s back that way,” I said.
Francis smiled. “I found the coolest thing the other day. I wanna show you guys.”
We continued north into the part of Charleston that no one liked to remember existed. The houses were falling apart, drug deals happened on porch steps, and sheltered college students never ventured there.
“I hate this part of town,” Jacky grumbled. “Why are we here?”
“Trust me,” Francis replied. “It will be worth it. Here we go.”
We stopped in front of a dilapidated building on the brink of collapsing. Old wooden slats covered in chipped paint hung haphazardly across the door, condemning the structure.
While Jacky and John lamented about the state of disrepair and kept glancing over their shoulders expecting something to jump out and get them, my attention was on the wall that still stood erect. There was just enough light to make out the painting that took up the entire side.
It was the dark-haired man with dark eyes.
“Tell me that’s not bad ass,” Francis said, standing back, a proud grin on his face.
“Wow,” Jacky said. “That is really cool.”
I placed a hand against the wall to touch the painting. It felt alive. A tingle shot up my arm. Whipping my hand back, I curled my fingers into a fist. I met the painted eyes of the dark-haired man, swearing they twinkled in the bright street lamplight.
“How did you find this?” I asked, my voice sounding very far away.
Francis looked up at the wall. “I was walking around the city with my camera. Lo and behold…”
Had I done this?
I must have. And yet I had no recollection of sleepwalking. I hadn’t taken the sleeping pills yet. Maybe it was time to start.
Thane?
Poppy.
Help explain this.I sent him the mental picture of the painting.Did I do this?
Yes.
How? When?
A few days ago. You were sleepwalking.
Why didn’t you stop me!
“Poppy? Are you okay?” Francis asked, jarring me out of my conversation with Thane.
“Yeah,” I struggled to reply. “I’m just in awe. It’s amazing.”
“It’s notthatamazing,” John rebutted.
“You can’t tell at the moment because it’s dark and there are shadows covering some of it, but in the light you can see the detail of the face, the eyes especially,” Francis explained. “Whoever did this captured an intensity that’s hard to explain. It’s stunning.”
“Great,” John dismissed. “Now can we head to Frenchie’s, please?”
I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted to stay and sink into the emotion threatening to pull me under.
“Will you send me the photos you took of the painting?” I asked Francis.
