Tyson_An Ariel Kimber Novella by Mary Martel

Author:Mary Martel [Martel, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-24T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

He loved her

Quinton eyeballed me carefully as I pulled the key out of the lock and twisted the knob, opening up the door that would lead us into the musty shop. My nose twitched from the dust and I wondered if the place had been locked up tight since I'd left with the keys because it badly needed to be aired out.

"Where's the fucking light switch," Quint bitched from behind me.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had absolutely no freaking clue where the light switch was or if the lights even worked. I'd never been here where there were lights on in place of candles lit up dangerously and strewn all over the place.

I reached around, feeling the walls anyways, in search of any kind of switch. I made contact with one and flicked the switch up. A buzzing hummed through the room as crappy, florescent lights flickered to life from the ceiling. I cringed, almost preferring the soft glow of candlelight to the harsh brightness of the overhead lights.

"It'll need new lights," Quint muttered from behind me. "Something not from the Stone Age and a whole lot less harsh on the eye."

I grunted in consent.

I shut the door and locked the deadbolt as he wandered further into the room. I laid my back against the door as I watched him silently wander through all five rows of shelves that were in the center of the room. He'd occasionally raise his fingers and trail them over certain objects while keeping his opinions to himself. When he'd wandered through all the rows he walked over to the back wall to stand in front of the floor-to-celieng book shelves that were crammed full of books.

The books took up the most of his inspection.

Of course, he'd spend the most of his time in front of the books. He'd inherited a great library from my grandfather and I often times thought books were his first love. He never allowed himself to indulge in anything outside of reading. It was almost sad but I couldn't feel too bad for him because with knowledge came power and my Uncle was one of the smartest people I knew. He was also scary and most other covens would consider him to be powerful and no one dared go against him. Unless you were a family member, that is; we tried his patience as often as we could and said to hell with his beastly side that others pissed their pants when faced with.

He pulled out several books from each shelf, dusted them off and carefully thumbed through the pages. Some of them he'd gently put back in their original place. Others, he'd place in front of the other books on the shelf.

I would need to shake him down before he left the building to make sure he didn't steal any of my books without asking. He'd eventually return them, I was sure, but he wouldn't ask before taking them. Since I now owned

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