The Order: Hit and Run by Emma Cole Page 0,45
and I inhale deeply, relaxing even more. I love the smell of books.
"Mistress Cordelia! How nice to see you again." The guy from the student store... Kent, my brain finally prompts, comes at me from around the service desk with his arms extended as if he's going to hug me like some long-lost friend. Creepy Kent, I remind myself, flipping my backpack around into a makeshift shield and quickly pulling out a notebook to cover the move. His steps falter a bit, and he almost bashfully lowers his arms, no longer holding eye contact.
"Kent, hello," I greet him with a pleasant smile to take the sting out of my actions. "I didn't know you worked here too."
He immediately perks back up at my familiarity, megawatt smile reappearing, and I have to wonder if he has a condition. "Yes, if I'm not at the store, I'm generally in here anyway, so they gave me the internship. One day, I'll be the Master Librarian." His eyes shine with a fervent light that worries me a bit in its intensity, but barring any mental illness he may be harboring, he's probably a good place to start my research.
"Maybe you can help me then since you know the library well?"
"Oh, yes, anything you need, Mistress Cordelia." He nods, head bobbing on his skinny neck hard enough to make me wince and worry he might hurt himself.
"Just Cora is fine, Kent," I try to correct him, much to his horror.
"Oh no, Mistress, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be proper." Yep, he's definitely nuttier than squirrel shit. Fuck my life.
Looking around the cavernous space filled with shelves, tables, and sitting areas, I spy an alcove that’s away from the handful of now staring students. "Of course, Kent. How about I just go set my things down and bring you a list of what I'm researching? Then you can check it out and give me your opinion on where I should start."
At this point I'm nearly ready to call one of the guys, regardless of what they're doing, to get me out of here. Kent just rubs me the wrong way— in all directions.
Thankfully, he takes the hint, or maybe he's used to backhanded dismissals. Whatever the case may be, he goes back to his desk while I slowly make my way to the little secluded sitting area. It's hard not to get lost in the age and mystery of the contents. There are so many books. This very well could be my new favorite place— if I can get rid of its intern.
The center of the main room extends straight up to a curved ceiling bordered by a wrap-around balcony. The images of angels and demons bleed into one another, covering the entire thing, and I can't wait to have more time to explore it.
Grudgingly, I abandon my perusal to continue to my chosen space. I already made up a list of what's needed for my assignment and pull it out after dropping my bag onto one of the two easy chairs at the table.
When I get up to the desk, there's a short line of students ahead of me, so I use the time to study them, looking for imperfections. A couple of the men have that same pristine, otherworldly glow to their complexions, but the two women ahead of me don't. Their skin is nice and appears well cared for, but one has a couple small, obvious blemishes under her make-up, and the other just doesn't have the luminescence. It lends credence to my suspicions that females are more of a commodity to whatever juju these people practice. Or I guess they could just be regular students.
Nearly forgetting, and feeling kinda dumb that I did, I start surreptitiously looking for the tell-tale tattoo. Again, I come to the same conclusion; the guys have the mark peeking out from under the cuffs of their jackets, but as far as I can tell, the ladies do not.
Worried that I'll draw attention to myself for blatantly checking all of them out, I focus on my list while keeping watch out of my peripherals. It's then that I notice the abbreviated gestures and staring, accompanied by inaudible whispering. Just ignore them. They might not even be talking about you. But I know my pep talk is wishful thinking— I've already been warned that Damien was the golden boy at Blackbriar Academy.
Finally, it's my turn, and I show Kent what I'm planning for my project. He gives me