My Soul Immortal by Jen Printy

Author:Jen Printy [Printy, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

On the way to work the next morning, I rush along. Somehow, I forgot to set my alarm, but luckily, the sun, which promises another beautiful day, woke me. In my dash to be on time, I’m actually on course to be early. My thoughts revolve around Ed. I wonder if he found his nerve. My pace quickens. My curiosity gets the better of me. I’ll be able to guess her answer when I step through the door. Ed’s face will tell the whole story in one glance.

As I round the corner, two figures step out of the doorway of Rare Books and walk down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Ed’s opened the store early or—

My thoughts freeze midstream. I recognize the tall, lean man smoking a cigarette. A petite woman with cropped dark hair prances to Artagan’s side. I would have thought she was a young boy if not for her dark fitted suit that shows off womanly curves.

“Artagan,” I call.

He looks over his shoulder, his grave expression etched into every crevice of his face. He turns and keeps walking. The pale woman turns her head. Her wintery-blue, deep-set eyes pierce right through me. Her smile makes my blood run frigid and sends me rushing into the bookstore.

All the lights are off. The store is uncommonly quiet without the hum of the prehistoric computer or the chatter of Ed talking to himself in the back. The smell of rust and salt permeates the air. I call out, but get no response. I look over the open drawer of the cash register—now empty—and my search settles on a pair of legs sticking out from behind the counter. Waves of panic roll over me, threatening to bring my breakfast up. My body goes taut and rigid, and each step takes effort. I stop short at the counter.

Ed lies crumpled on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Trembling, I drop to my knees. I prod his warm neck, desperate to find a pulse. Nothing. Uncontrollable gasps force my chest into irregular heaves. Ed’s eyes stare straight at the ceiling, vacant, lifeless. I stand and stagger backward. Thoughts spin and thrash, trying to escape the reality lying before me. He’s dead… murdered. The horror of this certainty threatens to plunge me into darkness. Every ounce of air is sucked from the room. Without warning, my legs fail me, and I stumble against a shelf. The tower teeters, spilling books at my feet, but my eyes stay glued to Ed’s motionless legs. His blood pools, creeping its way around him. Rising acid sears my throat, shaking me from the shock and sending me tumbling out the door.

Outside, I lean against the cool brick wall and vomit then wipe my sleeve along my mouth. I want to wake up. This is just a horrible dream, right? This can’t be happening. A strangled sound escapes my throat, as though an animal is dying inside me.

Ed. Not Ed.

Dazed, I scan the street, but Artagan is gone.

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