Page 4 of Entranced By the Basilisks

That isn’t why Agnes is raising her brows at me, but it isn’t in me to delegate asking employees favors. Even if said employee is terrified of me.

Before much more time has passed, I stand in front of Ms. Rivera’s office.

Normally, I’d send an email for both of our comforts, but we are on a timetable. I take a breath and knock on the joint office of my librarian and my restoration expert. A voice I rarely hear travels through the door.

“Come in.”

I enter the office, the space is a cluster of warm colors and preserved papers. The scent of the room is a mix of vanilla and, more faintly, roses and inspires what others would call coziness.

“Director.” Ms. Rivera stands but keeps her eyes at the level of my chin.

I mentally sigh, resigned to her reaction. Most people, even after years of working together, flinch when they meet my gaze. It’s the truth of what I am, and it shouldn’t bother me.

But Emilia Rivera’s total avoidance of looking me in the eye causes an itch of discomfort. Always has. She’s gotten close enough in the past to pretend, but never quite enough to actually make eye contact. It’s stupid to take it personally, but it makes me feel like even more of a monster than I am. Definitely more of a monster than what I show the world.

I flex the hand at my side. The urge to lift Emilia’s pointed chin until her thick lashes don’t shield her eyes is wholly inappropriate and unexplainable. She is very pretty, the smooth tone of her light-brown skin, the arch of her dark brows, and the curve of her full lips, usually painted with a vibrant shade.

Pretty may be a trite word to use, pretty is as far as I’ll let my mind ruminate.

It’s only curiosity that makes me want our eyes to meet, just once. Nothing else.

“Do you have room in your schedule to restore two books of paranormal origin by the end of the week?” I ask.

Emilia looks at her laptop, frowning. “What condition are they in?”

“The condition is unknown.”

Her lips compress. “Without knowing the condition, I can’t say whether or not they can be completed in a week. Some processes take longer than others.”

My lips twitch at her poorly veiled frustration. Usually, the restorer just nods, it’s somehow better to see a glimpse of her beneath whatever shield she hides herself. Almost like I’m seeing the actual person.

Not that it should matter.

Emilia bites her lip like she regrets her response.

“The crate has been sent to Ms. Starling’s lab and Agnes will forward you the titles of interest. Please check the inventory list, assess the books with her, and let me know if it’s possible by end of day,” I say, trying to get out of this office before I cause her any more discomfort.

Emilia nods and I leave without ceremony. I know I am a detached person, demanding of my employees, but I don’t wish to scare the woman more so than is unavoidable.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. No doubt signaling another fire that must be put out this morning. But when I unlock the screen, I freeze.

Not the usual type of fire.

Meet me at the bathhouse tonight.

Thoughts of Ms. Rivera’s gaze are redirected to a different type of urge. An addiction that shouldn’t continue but does no matter how many times I’ve tried to kick it.

I grit my teeth and respond.

No.

It’d been a month since the last we’d seen each other and the gap in time does not make this any easier, any less tempting. To meet up and forget about everything before having to return to the world of constantly putting out fires and rubbing elbows for the good of this library.

But there’d been an undercurrent to our meetings this last year. My instincts warn me about… something.

It’ll be easier to avoid thinking about this topic if I don’t give in to temptation.

The phone buzzes with another message.

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