Chapter 18
“Y ou, 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. Or are 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.”
I chuckled, earning a disapproving glare from the librarian as she shuffled across the row. “I plan to study for hours and keep my mind occupied with…” I opened the first music book to a random page. “Composers from the twentieth century, starting with the letter D for Claude Debussy, and I’ve put together a playlist for your role in The Misanthrope .”
Yasmine’s face lit up. “Oh, I can’t believe you thought of me. That’s something a book boyfriend would do.”
I handed her one of my AirPods. “Of course, you’re my best friend.” She didn’t react. Maybe it was too much? Oh god, what did I do? “Anyway, this playlist goes from dark ambient to classical.”
She inserted the AirPod. “Well, you’re my best friend, too, Dalia.”
I smiled. I’d never had a best friend before, aside from Grandma.
Shifting my focus to my studies, I delved into the world of classical composers, working my way through the alphabet until I reached the letter S for Alexander Scriabin. And then someone made me stop.
A chair slid across the floor, the scrape announcing an uninvited presence. I looked up, and there he was, Levi, appearing everywhere like my shadow. As if this wasn’t enough, the music switched to the album Stalker by Robert Rich & B. Lustmord with a frightening low-frequency note.
His sudden appearance shifted the atmosphere, injecting a black energy. He settled into the chair facing me. It felt as though everyone else had vanished, the library’s labyrinthine layout leaving only the three of us alone.
“Where is everyone?” I squinted my eyes at him, stopping the music and nudging Yasmine, who had fallen asleep on her notes.
“Dismissed. I like my privacy,” Levi asserted, his voice cutting through the still air. “Plus, the old lady has a thing for me.”
I’d forgotten that Levi could be charming if he really intended to—which was never.
“I’m gonna go,” Yasmine said, gathering her belongings incredibly fast for someone dead asleep twenty seconds ago.
“No, don’t—”
“That would be great,” Levi interrupted before slamming the music score on the desk. “Time to work, and in case you’re wondering, I have all night long.”