Page 54 of The Kiss Of Death
“When?” I urged. People waited for us to clear the piste.
“When I feel like it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He came in close. “When my murderous impulses calm down because I’m afraid I won’t be able to sit in front of you for hours without either wanting to slice a sharp object through your neckor through mine. And I won’t be able to stop myself from having disruptive fantasies about you. Unless you’d let me use you to satisfy my cravings?”
“Nope, all good here. Take all the time you need.” I walked as far as I could from him, wanting to ignore the burning sensation he ignited in my belly.
He was so rude. I didn’t know what I disliked the most about him right now. Was it his calculating nature or his blunt demeanor? Perhaps it was the admiration I felt toward his strength or the fact he was able to do as he pleased?
But one thing was for sure—I hated how he made me feel.
“You, again?” The elderly librarian greeted me with a bemused expression, her glasses teetering on the edge of her nose.
“Sixth time’s a charm,” I muttered, showing the librarian three books about Pantheon’s creation for the Mystery and Legacy challenge.
I had come to the library all week in a lame attempt to avoid thinking about a particular someone when he wasn’t harassing me at fencing or making his presence known with his intense stare.Be gone from my mind.
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t stay all night long with your friend. I have better things to do than watch you both.”
“We’ll try,” I said, remembering how Yasmine’s Disney princess-like personality came alive every time the elder librarian wasn’t looking. She liked to glide on the rolling ladder that towered three meters high on the library’s shelves.
I closed her office door and navigated to our customary spot, nestled in the poetry corner beneath the gothic windows. However, before I could join Yasmine, Mr. Delgado emerged from one of the countless rows, his black hair falling over his shoulders.
I flinched and let out a thin shriek. His disdainful scrutiny was palpable as he examined the books in my arms as if they were the work of Satan himself.
“Ah, Miss Mercier, it’s a rare sight to find you catching up on your studies. I’m only disappointed it’s not for my class. Orare you falling behind in others too?” His fingers traced his mustache.
“I assure you, Mr. Delgado, I’m not.” I forced a polite smile. “I’m participating in the Mystery and Legacy mission.”
“I see,” he said, inhaling, probably restraining himself from saying what he was thinking out loud—that I was incapable. “Follow me.”
As I reluctantly trailed, he led me through the music department, thrusting three additional huge dusty books my way: music theory through performance and composition, modern and avant-garde music, and the most influential composers of the twentieth century.
“Since you seem to have lots of spare time, you’ll write an essay on these books within the next two weeks if you have the ambition to pass my class. Name the big composers in modern music in contrast to classical and how they draw inspiration from it. It’s high school-level homework, so that shouldn’t be too hard, even for you.”
“But with the challenge and—”
“It’s delusional that you believe you have time to dedicate to such trivial tasks, considering your lack of potential. Nevertheless, music should always take precedence. I’ll see you in class, Miss Mercier.”
He left, snapping his book shut with finality.
“Yes, sir,” I grumbled, trudging back to Yasmine’s side, now laden with even more books.
Yas eagerly took the tomes from my hands, her nostrils flaring as she brought the leather-bound covers close to her face for a deep inhale. She was always doing that. “That’s a lot of books, even for me.”
Taking a seat, I let out a heavy sigh. “Mr. Delgado assigned me an essay. I think he hates me, but I’m going to prove him wrong. And the old librarian scares me.”
“She scares you? But she’s adorable.” Yasmine chuckled, her pen gliding across the pages of her fully annotated book. “Someone with knowledge in the ‘I know everything about everyone’ department is way scarier. Isn’t he your boyfriend or something?”
“No.” I fought back, careful to keep my voice low, wary that the walls might have ears. The library was so quiet that we could hear the rustle of turning pages. “That kiss was a mistake, and the only reason I told you about it was because you didn’t leave me in peace.”
“It’s not my fault you called him in your dreams.”
“Please don’t say that out loud.” I shushed her. “You know how some men just want to date a woman similar to their mother? Well, I think Levi wants to date the monster under his bed.”
“So you’re basically the boogeyman.” She smirked. “Elusive. Mysterious. Scary.”
