The Order: Hit and Run by Emma Cole Page 0,50
after she says goodbye, feeling like the worst wife in history that I won't attempt to leave tonight. I know if I do, I risk the chance of being followed.
***
Unable to sleep after eating, I pull out the book the man in the stacks wanted me to read. The brown leather cover looks to be a good quality to my inexperienced eye, but there's not a title on it and it's too thin for much more than a notebook's worth of pages. Flipping it open I find a "Property of" stamp and realize it's a fancy composition book. And it belongs, or belonged, to a woman named Sophia.
Curious about the contents, I flip to the next page, but it's blank. I try a couple more, and they're also empty. Why did that guy want me to take a blank notebook? Annoyed, I fan through the pages just to be sure. Nada. But the front one had said Sophia. Maybe he'd just been some weird fuck who likes to mess with new students. It's not like I went and checked that the wall was solid.
Leaving it open on my lap, I absentmindedly run my index finger over the edge of the paper as I go over what Debbie had said earlier, yet again. I’m really hoping today’s events aren’t from anything serious, but know with my luck that my wish won’t be granted. My depressing thoughts are interrupted by a sting on the pad of my finger. My smart self should know better than to tempt fate. I stick the papercut digit into my mouth to soothe it-- and watch the notebook page absorb the drop of blood that fell before I could stop it. Now I’ve gone and ruined school property.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Wide-eyed, I continue to watch as the drop begins to disappear. “I’ve released a vampire book and now it’s going to eat me. Please, don’t eat me.” I don’t think I can take any more freaky shit today. But then something really fucking cool happens… the pages start to fill in. Flipping back to the first page, I find it’s just as full as the others now.
Not wanting to question the ‘how’ part, I start to read before it decides to disappear again.
If you’re reading this, then then you’ve been found to be pure of heart and blood. I’m not positive how long it will be before the new Axiom Host will be born, but I’ve made sure this history and guide will stay hidden until the next arises.
The Axiom thing is what Damien Sr. had been talking about the other night. Quicky, I skip through a few pages. The entries are marked with dates and it appears to be more of a journal or diary than anything formal. Still curious, but oddly tired after the book’s magic trick, I decide to wait to read it until I can comprehend it properly. It really has been a long day. This afternoon with Riggs and the Kael, and-- Motherfucker. Riggs. I’ll bet just about anything that Riggs getting hurt has something to do with Kael’s issues with them being right around the same time.
I try to concentrate on what they’d said ‘pulling’, but the urge to sleep is desperate and I suddenly can no longer find it. My last thought is that someone whammied me again and this time I’m blaming a diary.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m fully out until seven the next morning. When I wake up, I scowl at the notebook, I wasn’t tired until it cut me and did it’s magic writing schtick. Putting it on the back burner and hurrying through a shower, I go in search of Jag, more than ready to get to see Kael in person.
Jag is sitting on the couch, drinking coffee in just a pair of lounge pants when I walk into the living room.I'm momentarily distracted from my mission with a half-naked man in front of me. A very attractive half-naked man. My eyes follow the patch of hair on his chest that tapers into a thin line, before disappearing under the low waistband of the pants. They leave his hipbones exposed and I get hung up on those until I realize what I'm doing.
My gaze flies to Jag's in horror as my fingers seek each other out. My palms are tingling with that itchy heat and my cheeks are blazing in embarrassment. Jag seems to find it amusing though with a grin curving his full lips.