48. Seraphina
48
Seraphina
“I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I stand up from my seat, twisting my torso to relieve the knots in my back. Lincoln shifts, leaning forward as if to stand up. “You are not coming with me.”
“Cierń,” he growls, face set in a scowl.
I point at him. “No. I’m going to pee, and then I’ll be right back. Stay down here.”
He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t have a phone.”
“Lincoln, the bathroom is right past the doors to the basement. Nothing is going to happen to me in the three minutes I’ll be gone, okay?”
I see his jaw tense before he gives me a terse nod. “There and back, Seraphina. Don’t test me today, okay?”
I wave off his concern, walking quickly to the stairs that lead to the first floor of the building. It takes no time for me to run up the stairs, use the restroom, and wash my hands. As I exit the bathroom, I bump into May, who seems to be headed for the basement.
“Oh, perfect. I was coming down to grab you. Julie called out this afternoon, and I need someone to cover the front desk for a moment while I handle an issue with the dean.”
I open my mouth, about to tell her that I just have to let Lincoln know, when she interrupts me. “I need you there now, if you will, Sera. There seems to be an endless stream of checkouts today, and we’re not even in a primary semester.” She shakes her head, her face set in a frown. “Go on over there. I’ll relieve you in twenty minutes.”
I glance from May to the basement door and cringe, knowing that as soon as Lincoln realizes I’m not back within the agreed-upon three minutes, he’s going to have a conniption. “Let me just tell Lincoln.”
“I have to go down there anyway for a roll of film; I’ll tell your bodyguard to meet you. Now, Sera, go,” she orders, her voice filled with authority. I comply, following the direction of my boss because, really, what else could I do? Weaving around the hallway, I start to approach the front desk when a familiar voice hits my ears.
I stop in my tracks, straining to identify the direction the voice is coming from. My heart pounds, and I feel my palms grow sweaty, an instant reaction to a voice that has haunted my dreams and waking moments since it reappeared in my life.
“Fucking Guts, man, he’s got a death sentence.” I whip my head to the left, isolating the location of Chris’s voice. On light feet, I walk until I’m pressed against a column. If anyone were to walk past me from the front, they’d probably wonder why I’m trying to make myself as small as possible as I hide against the wood paneling. However, from where I can assume Chris is, I’m carefully concealed and invisible to the eye.
I continue pressing, willing my body to disappear into the ancient wall but achieving no such effect. “He had one goddamn job, and what did he do? Fucked it up. Prez is going to be pissed.”
“He did exactly as he was supposed to do. That fire displaced all those preppy assholes.”
I hear a grunt in response.
“Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it,” I mutter to myself, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to talk myself out of peering over the side of the wall for a better look at the speakers in this conversation. Taking a deep breath, I hold it in, letting the oxygen deprivation fuel my decision. Releasing the air slowly, I risk a glance over the side of the wall and immediately snap my head back. Instead of one person with Chris, there are two: a tall man with thick black hair and one with a narrower frame and long blond hair. In their leather cuts and with their backs to me, I have no way of knowing who the people are or how they’re connected to Chris, aside from the very obvious references to a job, a fire, and Prez.
I may not be a genius, but it doesn’t take much to figure out what they’re talking about. Still peering over the side of the wall, I watch as Chris and the taller man continue to talk while the shorter blond man seems to release only grunts. My heart is in my throat as Chris shifts, running a hand over his hair and revealing a tattoo on the underside of his bicep, visible thanks to the short-sleeved shirt he seems to be wearing.
Squinting, I take in the upside-down skeleton with a scythe hanging from an extended left hand and the rope tied around its right foot. Any doubt I may have cast on the conversation I overheard five minutes ago is eradicated at the sight of the hanging skeleton needled into Chris’s arm.
“Jesus,” I murmur, clasping a hand over my mouth as the words leave. Chris and the taller man don’t seem to have heard me, but the small grunter whips his head around and immediately makes eye contact with me.
I back away, hand still over my mouth, as I feel my eyes widen. A slight shake of the blond’s head has me furrowing my brow.
“Ajax?” the tall one says, forcing the blond’s head to turn. “You hear me, man?”
Ajax grunts in response. “Yeah, we should take this out of the fucking library. What are we even doing here? We look like assholes standing in the middle of this old-ass building.”
“I needed to speak with you,” Chris grinds out. “And you know I couldn’t go to the fucking club.”
“And whose fault is that, college boy? Get your shit together.”
“Call me that one more fucking time and watch what happens.” Chris puffs out his chest, stepping right up to Ajax. He has at least three inches and twenty pounds on Ajax’s wiry frame, but something tells me that it’s an uneven fight, with Ajax as the would-be winner.
“Get it together, dickheads. Ajax, we’re leaving. Fade, we’ll see you at the meet-up tomorrow night. Keep your head down and get your shit straightened,” the taller man orders. With that, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving Ajax and Chris alone.
Chris’s face is full of venom. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m going to find out.”
I can’t see Ajax’s expression, but I can hear the sardonic laugh that spills from his mouth. “You’re lucky you’re related to Prez, otherwise your ass would be out. Have fun cleaning shit up, college boy,” he tosses out. I watch in horror as Chris starts to turn in my direction, immediately moving so that my head is once again behind the wall. I’m shocked when Ajax calls to Chris, seemingly getting his attention, and I risk a peek back over the wall. “What are you looking at, asshole?”
“Fuck off, Ajax. I thought I saw someone.”
“Too many ghosts, college boy?”
“What the fuck did I say?”
“Gentlemen? This is a library, not a bar. If you’re going to raise your voices, please do so outside.” May’s librarian tone cuts Chris off, causing both men to turn in her direction. Chris’s face morphs from the sneer from moments ago to the laid-back, easy smile of the boy I knew during my teenage years.
“I’m sorry about that. My friend was just leaving.”
“Young man, I think it’s time for both of you to leave.” May’s voice is curt, brooking no argument.
Chris’s features darken for a moment before they smooth out again. “I have a class project—”
“We’re going.” Ajax’s voice breaks through, silencing Chris again. Ajax reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him from the library and toward the door, where their friend disappeared moments earlier. May and I both watch them leave, and I sigh in relief when the door closes firmly behind them.
I have no idea why that guy Ajax seemed determined to conceal my presence, but I can’t say I’m not grateful.
“Seraphina, you can come out of hiding now,” May calls out, her back to me.
“How did you—” I start, shaking my head and stopping my words, realizing that it doesn’t really matter how she knew I was there. “I need to go to Lincoln.”
“Yes.” She turns her head. “I suspect you do. I recommend ending your shift early today.”
I nod in agreement, though she can’t see me, and head toward the basement. I make it as far as the hallway by the stairs when Lincoln’s voice breaks through my nerves. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” I startle, looking up.
“May came downstairs and gave me a ten-minute speech about respecting your work schedule and then handed me a stack of papers, told me to sort them, and left.”
“We need to go.”
“Seraphina, what happened?” His hands still me when I try to turn toward the door.
“We need to call Sergeant Maroaka, please, Lincoln. Trust me?” He’s asked for my trust multiple times, both literally and physically. With every plea, I give in. I submit. I’m asking for him to give me that same honor.
He nods swiftly and grabs my hand, walking beside me as we make our way through the hall and into the vestibule. “Wait,” I whisper, squeezing his hand to stop him before we exit the main door of the library. Looking through the window, I check the area to see if Chris or any of his apparent friends are still present. “I think it’s safe.”
“I have so many fucking questions, cierń,” Lincoln grits out, shaking his head as his hand tightens around mine.
“I know, Lincoln.” I sigh, pulling him through the doors and down the library steps. We’re almost at his car when a voice calls out to me.
“Ms. Gregori?” I whip my head around, searching for the owner of the voice. My eyes land on Ajax.
“Who the fuck are you?” Lincoln steps in front of me, an impenetrable wall.
“A friend of sorts. Tell Maroaka ‘Red Sevens.’”
“What?”
His gaze bores into us before nodding and turning toward the back lot. “He’ll know.” We watch him walk away, disappearing until the telltale sound of a motorcycle engine fills the early afternoon. Lincoln reaches behind him, tugging my arm until my body stands before his. Without a word, he grabs hold of my waist and picks me up, depositing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“Lincoln,” I groan, feeling my face heat at the position while he makes the last few steps to his car.
“No.”
“But—”
“Also, no.”
“Lincoln—”
“Seraphina.” He sighs. I hear the car unlock and the sound of the door opening before he flips me right side up and places me in the car. “You disappeared for fifteen minutes, and when I saw you next, you looked two seconds away from a fucking heart attack without giving me an explanation. Then, we get outside, and the crypt-fucking-keeper is lurking in the shadows with some spy message for the sergeant working this case. So when I tell you, ‘No,’ I mean that, right now, I don’t have the mental capacity to put into words what I’m thinking, and I need two goddamn minutes to reassure myself that you’re okay before I lose my ever-loving shit. Okay?”
I swallow, nodding up at him. “Okay.”
“Good.” He pushes the door closed and rounds the hood of the car. My eyes track his movements as he slides behind the wheel and starts his engine. I stay silent until we’re on the highway.
“Is it safe now?”
“It’s always safe, cierń. But I needed a minute. What happened in the library?”
“Chris was there.”
“Fuck,” he yells, filling the car with the echo of his anger. “Did he see you?”
“No.” I shake my head, recalling the conversation I overheard. “The guy who waited for us outside of the library—his name is Ajax—it was almost like he made sure Chris didn’t see me.” The effort he took to make sure I wasn’t seen, coupled with his message for Sergeant Maroaka, has my mind spinning. “But he spoke about the fire. He said someone named Guts had something to do with it. Where are we going?”
“The precinct. Call your parents and your brother to let them know we’re going.” He holds out his phone. Grabbing the device, I follow his instructions and dial my mom’s number. It rings once before she answers.
“Deborah Gregori.” Her no-nonsense greeting warms me, giving me a sense of normalcy.
“Mom? It’s me.”
“Oh, thank God. Where are you? Our flight just landed. Are you on the way to the house? Wait there until we get home. Did—”
“Mom,” I interrupt. “We’re going to the precinct to speak with Sergeant Maroaka.”
She’s silent for a beat before she responds, “We’ll meet you there. Do not go in without us or your brother. And you do not speak to anyone until your father and I get there, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good. We’ll be there in thirty minutes. And Sera?”
“Yeah, Mom?” My voice shakes, causing Lincoln to reach out and grab onto my fingers.
“I’m so happy you’re all safe.” She hiccups, a sob breaking her voice.
“Me too, Mom.”