Viribus nods his head and goes to stand up. Darius’s right arm shoots out and grabs a bunch of Viribus’s shirt. His fist begins to glow amber as his anger rises at being let down again. His hand starts to burn the shirt and singe the flesh of his lieutenant. Viribus knows better than to move or protest against the searing pain rippling right through his chest and stays quiet.
Darius slowly stands from his stool. As he does, Viribus is lifted into the air as easily as if he was a toy bear, rather than the formidable giant he is. He looks Viribus dead in the eyes. Darius opens his mouth and a sound rumbles out, closer to a growl than a voice. Viribus hears and feels the weight of the words regardless.
“If that wasn’t clear enough, hear this: if you or Julius don’t find me some information about where the girl went, I will make you beg me to vanquish both of your fucking worthless Victus asses.”
Viribus gives Darius one sharp nod and the demon releases him. The large man lands on his feet but stumbles. He holds onto the bar to prevent himself from falling to the floor. He straightens up, embarrassed at being disciplined so openly.
The Victus lieutenant turns to the bartender, pulls out a thick envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, and slaps it down on top of the bar. He turns away without another glance toward his boss. Darius watches Viribus leave, sees the slice of white light pour in then get cut short as the door to the bar is opened and closed.
The bartender picks up the envelope and puts into the front pocket of his apron as he pours the black-haired man another whiskey, neat.
As he turns to check on his other patrons, he can hear the ancient man grunt under his breath, “Fucking waiting.”
● 6 ●
“Alexa”
I’m at the counter by the main entrance of the library scanning books being checked out by a young mother holding a little boy on her hip. He looks to be no older than three. The mother is shushing the child saying things like “just a few more minutes” and “we’re going home right after this.” I smile at the boy but he shyly ducks his head into his mother’s neck.
“Did you pick out all of these books yourself?” I cheerfully ask the boy.
He ducks his head more but lets out a tiny, “Yes.”
“Well, you made some really great choices here. You even picked out my favorite book in the whole world. Can you guess which one is it?”
This brings the boy out of his shell a little, and he lifts his head looking at me with a smile, the pure kind that little kids can do so effortlessly.
“This one?” He points to Corduroy by Don Freeman.
I gasp. “How did you know! Are you a mind reader?”
The little boy laughs and shakes his head, replies with a drawn out “Nooo.”
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask him. He nods eagerly. I deliberately look side to side to make sure no one else is nearby, lean over the counter and whisper, “I am. But, shh, don’t tell anyone.”
The boy’s eyes widen and he gasps. He nods his head again vigorously at my secret. I surprise myself that I could so easily share something so profoundly life threatening should it be heard by the wrong person with a three-year-old.
His mother and I both chuckle as I stack the five books and hand them to the mother and say, “April thirteenth is the return date.”
She smiles at me and puts the books into her oversized tote bag. She squints and reads my name off my I.D. tag on the lanyard around my neck. “Thank you, Alexa. Can you say thank you to Alexa, Tripp?”
The smile freezes on my face as the boy thanks me. I can only nod for fear of betraying the cold, painful spear that just shot through my chest on hearing the boy’s name. Tripp. Not a common name, but the name of someone I wish I knew what happened to and carry guilt over every single day.
I shake it off before that coldness fully overtakes me. I turn to my right and jump when I see Matt leaning against the frame of the doorway to the employee lounge area.
“You startled me. I didn’t know you were there.”
Matt doesn’t answer me right away but continues looking at me with an expression I can’t quite get a read on.
“What?” I chuckle nervously.
“Nothing.”
“Okay…”
Matt continues to look at me the same way. God, he looks so good right now, I think. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I turn slightly away and start stacking books that are on the counter while I discreetly exhale. Matt stands up straight and steps over to a spot a few feet from me.
“Just that, that kid was about five seconds away from having a meltdown,” he says. “Until you magically charmed his little socks off.”
“I don’t know about magically.” I chuckle again.
“No? I’d say mind reading is pretty magical.” He shrugs.
Oh, shit. Play it off, he just thinks you were joking with the boy. Let him keep thinking that. “Oh, that?” I laugh nervously, my mouth suddenly very dry. I have to swallow a couple of times before I can continue. “That was nothing, just trying to make a mother’s day a little easier.”
“Well, I thought it was very...” He pauses as he thinks for the right word. “Sweet.” He finally says. Matt has taken another step along the counter and is less than three feet from me.
“Um, thanks.”
Matt takes another step forward, now at an arms length from me. He holds my gaze the whole time. There goes my pulse again. This man could be the death of me, Darius may not even get a chance. That thought breaks the spell. I look down clearing my throat and take one step back.
“I um, I have to go put these books away now,” I say as I grope around the counter and grab the first stack my hand lands on. Oh my god, why are you such a dork “Alexa”?
“Right, okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”
I turn to my left, walking quickly out from behind the counter. When I look behind me, Matt is still standing at the counter watching me. He’s smiling that same smile that’s definitely filled with some kind of warmth. I blush at being caught glancing back and whip my head back around straight. I make the first turn I see, desperate to hide within the rows of books.
Smooth, “Alexa.” I think. SO smooth.
**********
I spend the first half hour of my lunch break still hiding from Matt in the employee’s lounge while I get over my embarrassment. I’m sitting at the small four-person table in the middle of the room. I have my travel mug of what’s now barely-warm chocolate in my hands, and I’m staring blankly at the stainless steel cup.
Cali would have had a field day with that whole mess, I think. If she catches wind of it at all tonight at dinner, I’m done for. Why am I so insecure around him though? I fumble around him like a baby deer with vertigo learning to walk.
I’m so lost in replaying my previous bungle with Matt that I don’t hear my boss, Jeff, come in.
“Alexa?”
I jump and smack my knee on the leg of the table. “Ow, shit!” I say out loud. That’s the third time today, damn it, I think. What is up with me?!
When the stars in my vision clear and I realize who it is I just cursed at, or cursed near rather, my eyes widen and I immediately apologize. “Oh, Jeff! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that.”
“That’s alright, Alexa.” Jeff Daley is a bland, no-nonsense kind of guy, very straightforward and rarely shows any sort of emotion. Sometimes the rest of the staff here joke that he’s probably half robot. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“I did?” For a minute I have no idea what he’s talking about. Then I remember — extra shifts. “Oh, right! Yes, I did. I was wondering if there was an extra shift or two available for me to take on?”
Jeff thinks for a minute and says, “Well, I’d have to see if there is anything available, but you’re already at forty-five hours a week. Any more than that and you’d have to be paid overtime. In that case, it would need to be authorized by the higher-ups, and I don’t see that happening with the current budget.”
<
br /> I deflate a little, I was really hoping for any extra time I could get.
I wonder what he would say if I told him: Well, you don’t have to pay me, Jeff. I just need access to the internal network here to find a very particular, important thing that will help me defeat an evil demon named Darius and save the human world as we know it. I don’t know what it is exactly I’m looking for, but considering we’re in a library, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s some kind of book.
Instead I say, “Right, I understand, Jeff. Thanks anyway.”
Jeff exits the lounge without further exchange, signaling the end to the conversation.
Could this day get any worse? I internally complain to myself. First, you run over Matt in the street. Then, he tells you about dinner but you’re not entirely sure if it is a date or it isn’t a date. Then you go and make a total FOOL of yourself in front of him. And now Jeff has plainly denied any extra shifts. Plus, you’re jumpy as all hell. It’s only three o’clock “Alexa”, what else is going to happen today?
I sigh and shake away the swirling woe-is-me thoughts from my mind. I don’t have time to wallow. I decide to use the last half hour of my break going through the archives searching for the coveted tome I seek. I narrow my search to the oldest books with obscure or no authors. It’s not like I’m looking for Shakespeare or anything.
Three hundred and fifty-three results come up. There is no additional way to sort the list, so I just start going through it text by text. In my mother’s letter, she was both vague and detailed about what I was being instructed to look for; she went into great detail about what the building looks like that houses what it is I need, but she offered no guidance on what it is I’m actually looking for. She wrote that it would be obvious when I found it, that I would just know.
After five years of searching, fifteen months of it in Portland, and thirteen with access to this library’s archives, all I’m absolutely sure of is that, based on Mom’s letter, whatever it is I am meant to find is definitely at this library. Somewhere in the bowels of this building is the answer to all the questions I have.
I’m scrolling through my results without any expectations when one listing catches my eye. A book is literally called The Book, the information attached to it lists no author, and the language is Latin. The Book has been at the library since it first opened in the early 1900s, but the age itself is unknown. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up, and my entire body breaks out into goosebumps.
“Well, if that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is,” I say out loud.
I read every word included with the listing until I find where in the library The Book is located. It’s in climate-controlled storage in the basement with all the other old, fragile, and very expensive books; an area that one needs special authorization and a key-card to access.
Holy shit, I think to myself. Is this it? Is this what I’ve been looking for? Could this finally, really be something?
Before I get too excited, I take a deep breath. Okay, relax, “Alexa.” If this really is the thing I’ve been searching for, then I have to stay calm and keep my guard up. I have to check it out, make sure it is for real before I do anything else.
The 3:30 P.M. alarm I set on my phone goes off, signaling the end of my break. I print out the section of the list containing information for The Book. The hair on the back of my neck is still standing as I take the page from the printer tray and fold it in quarters. I put it in the pocket of my slacks, log off the computer, and gather myself to go back out into the library.
Before I leave the little lounge area, I stop at a small mirror hanging on the wall next to the door. I run my hands over my hair to flatten any flyaways, straighten my glasses and look myself square in the eyes.
“Okay,” I say to my reflection. “Time to work.”
● 7 ●
The rest of my day goes by very quickly after that. I find myself patting my pocket periodically to make sure the paper is still there, that it’s real.
I don’t see Matt for the rest of the day. Whether that’s because of my severe awkwardness with him before or just coincidence, I don’t know.
At 5:30 P.M., I begin corralling people toward the main entrance.
“It is now 5:30, the library will be closing at six. If you would like to check out any books, please bring them to one of the check-out counters. If you are logged on to the computers, please finish up and log off.”
I repeat that over and over as I walk section to section, floor to floor. No matter how many times I say it, there is always someone who doesn’t hear it until the last possible minute.
At 6 P.M., the doors to the library are locked, and the staff goes around the entire building again. Checking the bathrooms, computer labs, media rooms, and all the nooks and crannies for backpacks, stuffed animals, and even a straggler or two who has fallen asleep or is wearing headphones. Anything we find goes into lost and found, books are left on carts to be put back on shelves the next morning.
When the rest of the staff leaves at 6:30, I wait outside for Matt. While I’m waiting I send a text to Cali.
LEX: just got out of work. waiting for matt. still going for tacos?
CAL: oh yeah! i’m still at mickey’s studio, been here all afternoon
CAL: we’ll meet you there
Cali sends a screenshot from Google maps of the taco restaurant.
LEX: so much for ignoring her, hmm?
CAL: i know. i’m hopeless when it comes to my boo
Cali adds an entire line of the heart eye emoji for emphasis. I smile softly to myself at how sweet they are on each other. Then I suddenly remember something important.
LEX: wait. you’ve been there all afternoon?
CAL: yeah. why?
LEX: milo??
CAL: oh! he’s still here with me. i already called the place. they said service dogs are ok
LEX: milo isn’t a service dog
CAL: isn’t he though? plus they don’t need to know that
CAL: oh and wait until you see him
Her next text is the purple smiling devil emoji.
LEX: why????
LEX: what did you do to my dog?
CAL: you’ll see when we get there
I’m mid-eye-roll at the text I’ve just gotten, when I hear someone next to me say, “I guess you’re texting Cali right now.”
I look up from my phone to see Matt staring at me as if I wasn’t the same awkward monster he encountered before. He’s looking at me like I’m the only girl in the world. Jesus, “Alexa”! Do you even hear yourself? You are literally the only other person waiting outside the library right now so just stop. Snap out of it girl!
I nod at Matt and show him the text about Milo. He laughs and shakes his head. Most of the time that’s the best, if not the only, response when it comes to Cali and the situations she gets herself, and apparently my dog, into.
“The restaurant is pretty close by. Do you want to walk or get a cab?” I ask Matt.
“It’s a nice evening, I’d be okay with walking.” Matt looks down to check his own phone that’s ringing in his hand. “It’s my mom. Hold on a second.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” Like I’m going anywhere.
“Hey, ma,” Matt answers the phone. “No, no, I just got off work.” Matt listens as his mother talks for a couple minutes straight. “I know ma. I talked to Josh just a day ago... Yes. We’ll both be there Sunday for dinner… I know, I’m excited to meet her too.” Matt listens again. “I don’t know if the Squirrel is coming, but I’m actually on my way right now with Alexa to meet her and Mickey for dinner.”
Matt looks over to me and mouths “sorry”. I wave it off because it’s fine.
“I will ask them if they’d like to come Sunday too... Okay, ma. Alright, I gotta go, but I’ll call you tomorrow on my break around one. Is that okay?... Alright good, then I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, too, ma... Okay, bye.”
Matt ends the call and puts his phone
into his pocket. I absentmindedly check my own pocket that the folded paper is still there. I decide to take it out and put it in my bag now before I possibly lose it.
“Sorry about that. Moms, ya know?” He looks at me with a soft smile on his perfect face. I feel a well of emotion start to bubble up so I swallow hard and just nod my agreement, hoping he misses the tears gathering in my eyes.
Unfortunately, Matt catches it. He stops walking and reaches for my hand, holds it tight.
“Hey. Are you okay?” He looks my face over, reading the emotion that I’m forcing to stay just below the surface.
My Name Is Not Alexa Pearce Page 4
