Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Is there anything else of Jake’s I should be going through? All I saw were the two books he was going through and the piece of paper with names,” I bite into the pastry and grin while the sugary sweetness coats my tongue, at least something’s sweet this morning.
“Chew with your mouth closed.” He snaps and then sobers. “Sorry, I was caught off guard. A paper with names on them you say?”
I gape at him. “I was.” I don’t add the “asshole” my tongue clearly feels he deserves. What the hell is his problem today? Does have extreme mood swings. What changed?
“No.” He looks away. “Your lips were parted.”
“They have to part to eat.”
He scowls down at his phone then tosses it back onto the table, making a loud noise that startles me, and I jump away. “Regardless. What’s this piece of paper you speak of?”
Something tells me not to say. Something in my gut warns me against it. “Oh it was just some scribbles about the gods and human trials and then a few names crossed off. Is it important?”
He seems to relax at that. “No, no, that’s great, for a minute there I thought he’d made copies of something forbidden but it seems he was just doing his job. If you see anything else though that seems suspicious let me know.”
I will absolutely not let him know. “Alright.”
“I’m off.”
“To your office?”
“Actually.” He hesitates. “Change of plans. I’m headed to the mountains.” He stands. “I’m going to take the boat out to the island.”
I frown. “Why? Do you camp out there?”
He smiles sadly. “Nobody camps out there. It’s illegal, and people who do take the risk tend to disappear quite fast.”
Confused, I ask. “Because of the weather?”
He doesn’t answer. He just grabs his phone, puts on a pair of Ray-Bans, and sighs heavily. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
“More visitors?”
He hesitates. “No. Just us tonight. I think we should go over what Jake was researching so I can finally tell you how dangerous it really was. We can go over why his employment was so pivotal to our work here and what that means for Jakes future, and possibly yours.”
“Good! I mean that would be amazing. Thank you!” I take a bite of my pastry and almost moan, it’s so incredible.
Cyrus doesn’t answer right away. He just stares out the windows, dark sunglasses on, perfect black peacoat and black pants on with expensive looking shoes to match.
His hair looks like the earth got angry at him and decided to give it a good blow.
I almost choke just thinking about it.
The blow.
Him.
He’s too good looking and distracting.
I quickly look away.
“Seven,” he says finally. “Don’t be late. We have a lot to discuss.”
Foreboding never really meant anything to me—the word at least—until that moment.
Cyrus stomps out of the house, head lowered, body tense. He stops at the tree, touches it with his palm and then keeps walking like he needed strength to do whatever he’s about to do.
I quickly eat the rest of my pastry, chug my coffee, wash my black mug out and put it in the sink, then make my way downstairs. Whatever Cyrus is doing, he clearly doesn’t want company and would probably end up biting said company’s head off anyway.
By the time I make it into the warehouse, after struggling with the rain, torch, and keys, I have around two hours before lunch time. Jake’s research calls to me like a moth to the flame. I look behind me then up at the cameras in the room. I know for a fact I’m not supposed to bring anything out of here. I open up the other book then slowly slide the piece of paper into the pocket of my coat then keep reading. I’m sweating bullets but no alarms have gone off yet. I guess I’m in the clear.
After an hour of not getting arrested goes by. I walk to the worship area and up to the spear on the wall. I reach out to touch it and instantly jerk back. “That’s weird.” I frown. The spear is nearly scalding, then again it has been basking in the sun from the window.. I lean in closer and gasp. It’s covered in specks of red that look like blood at first, but they’re engrained in the fibers of the metal. I touch the red, my fingers come back clean. I look around the room and then decide to lift it from its spot on the wall, it’s not like it’s real anyway. I try to raise it, but it feels like it weighs at least fifty pounds. With a grunt, I lift it again and attempt to inspect it.
There are etchings on the handle, but they’re ancient and I can’t decipher what they mean. The writing is worn nearly smooth; I doubt I’d be able to find out what it actually says.