Page 48 of Sigils & Spells

Weird was the easiest way to describe our collection. Part natural history, part antiquity, maybe some paranormal, some magic, a lot of the unknown.

“Thank you.” Dr. Bronson sounded exasperated. Dr. Armitage was neither from the university nor the museum. He was, in the eyes of my boss, a nuisance.

In my eyes, he was brilliant, if not a bit eccentric. And I was thrilled to be making a delivery to see him. Unlike the night before, today he would have to speak to me. Dr. Merle Armitage had to account for all items in the delivery and sign for them before I could leave.

If I were lucky, he would even invite me to stay for a cup of hot tea, which he did sometimes.

I spent the next hour locating and pulling the documents Merle wanted, this involved making copies from the master files of some of the rarer documents that were not allowed out of the building. With everything collected, I pulled on my coat, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and trudged over to the library on campus.

The walk was insanely short. The library was on one corner of campus, and the Archives were literally across the street. It was faster to walk and return with an arm-full of books than it would have been for me to start up my scooter and find a place to park it.

I secured all the books in the cargo crate on the back of my bike, shoved my helmet over my pink hair, and headed out. The weather was confused this time of year. Was it late winter or was it early spring? Trees were blooming, but the rain felt like ice. It was cold and wet, and cars and trucks kicked up so much road dirt. It wasn’t some miracle that I wasn’t covered in grime, it was a little talent I had. And the reason I worked for the W. Duchamp Archives.

My scooter sputtered to a stop as I parked in against the curb. Thanks to my minor talents, I was clean, not a mud splash in sight.

I loved Merle’s house. Several large Brahma chickens roamed free in the front yard, ignoring the rain. Then again, it was foul weather. I snorted at my pun, at least I found myself to be funny. There were other smaller breeds, but the huge, fluffy chickens always stood out. Someone had a coop around back. Hell, it seemed like every other person in Belvoir County had chickens. And they had fancy ones, like the big gentle giant Brahmas with their big fluffy feet.

Merle lived in an upstairs apartment of an old converted Victorian style mansion. The house had been originally built for one of the original Duchamp children. It was ostentatious and large. And completely purple. People called it the Capitulum. I think they were going for a fancy way of saying think-tank. It was part dorm, part cheap rental apartments for researchers, and all wonderful.

The house was splendid with a wide porch, and a tower. It was the kind of house that doll houses were modeled after. The kind of house, that if a house was going to be haunted, this was the one. It was beautiful and spoke testament to a time when construction was durable, and ornamentation was a necessity, not superfluous embellishment.

The stairs creaked in the way that old homes creaked. But the treads were solid under my feet. I trailed my fingers delicately over the original wood paneling as I climbed up to Merle’s second floor apartment. Touching this house was irresistible.

I knocked on the door.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hold on a second, will ya?” Merle yelled from somewhere inside the apartment as if I had been hounding him to open the door.

I didn’t suppress the smile that crossed my lips. I could already picture him with his hair mussed, and his eyes bright with intellectual fervor.

The door flew open, and he was mightier than I had expected. I had to blink a few times and change my focus, looking up. His hair was wet. And there was skin. A lot of it. A line of dark curls trailed down from his bellybutton to vanish beneath the towel that clung to his hips. He had a physique that caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected defined muscles layered over defined muscles to be hiding under his clothes. I always expected him to be, well, generically thin, not cut. And definitely not in possession of that hip bone divot.

“In!” He demanded.

I clutched the bundle of documents tighter and stepped inside. I couldn’t find words. In my eyes, in my heart, tall skinny, nerdy Merle was already lovely to look upon. Now to add on super human ideal physique, I had to fight hard not to swoon at his feet. And maybe snag that towel to follow me down as I crashed to the floor.

He skimmed past me to close the door. He stood close and breathed hard, flaring his nostrils. Damn, he was sexy. Any professional detachment I might have had was gone. I was here to deliver books for the library, and documents from the Archives. The ogling needed to wait for after hours at the bar. But at the bar he was always fully dressed, and frequently had a long dark frock coat over everything.

Merle turned away from me and crossed the room in a few stomping steps. He muttered something about getting dressed.

I carefully unwrapped my scarf from my neck, and sat in one of the few chairs that weren’t covered in stacks of papers. I left my coat buttoned, and continued to hold the bag of documents for delivery close to my chest. My knees glowed orange through my tights. They seemed obnoxiously bright in the dim light of his apartment.

When he returned, he didn’t say anything. It was hard for me to imagine that all that skin and hard muscle lurked beneath his loose jeans and baggy shirt.

He thrust a hand out to me. “Here.”

I handed over the delivery. In my stunned state, still reeling from the eyeful of his body, I barely noticed his abrupt choice of words and actions instead of his typical distracted, unfocused, but polite self.

“Ok, it’s all here.” He scribbled his signature on the top sheet and rattled it in my face.

I took the paper and carefully placed it in a file folder, so it wouldn’t get too mangled. “Thank you,” I whispered.

In a whirlwind of confusion, I stood and headed toward the door to leave. No tea today.

“Pan, stop.”

Wrapping my hand around the door knob, I paused at his command. My gut twisted and I didn’t dare turn to look at him. I had been so happy to see him. So excited for an excuse just to be near him, and I had been brushed off like I was some stranger. Being completely ignored like I had the night before was almost better.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” There were knives in his voice.

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