Alexis Batty [Batty - Spooks

Spooks

Alexis Batty

Spooks Copyright 2019 by Alexis Batty. All Rights Reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Alexis Batty

Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: JULY 2019

For my husband who has always supported me

To Eric, my cousin, who would read and talk to me about my writing every time I saw him

Lastly, to Mr. Allen for instilling a love of writing in me during the fifth grade

It isnt safe outside after dawn.

The sunlight fades as I finish getting ready for work. The walk to the Victorian styled Booker Library isnt far. As I approach, the third floor spire towers above the surrounding buildings as if they are her subjects. Its the perfect building to store vast tomes of knowledge.

A year has passed since The Uprising. Spooks (witches, shifters, vampires, fae, and other monsters) came surging from the shadows. A few months of violence and the Spooks declared victory and normal humans are condemned to the night.

I unlock the front door of the library and lock it behind me. The doors dont officially open for half an hour. I move to the back to put my belongings in the converted breakroom. It used to be the kitchen. A handful of cupboards were converted to lockers for the staff to safely store their belongings.

My next stop is across the hall at the Stranded Human Room. As the Head Night Time Librarian, its my duty to help or inform any humans that came for sanctuary that its safe to leave. The room used to always be full of scared humans, but now it is usually empty, like tonight.

The front desk has a note from Michelle, the Head Daylight Librarian, about some new orders. I met Michelle once. I was so nervous that I puked on her shoes. It was horrible, but she laughed it off. We usually only communicate through memos or notes. Michelles notes always have this bubbly energy and life to them, even when its a list of things needing to be done.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts and the note. My assistant, Mrs. Price, is here to restock books. I quickly let her in, and she, just as quickly, disappears with the cart. A few minutes later, I officially open the library.

Trickles of people come in and out through the night. I help people locate books, check them out, and went through the order forms. Michelle and I have to agree on all the orders we make. The night blows past in a steady stream of work.

Goodnight dearie, said Mrs. Price as she heads for the door.

Night. Be careful heading home, I answer automatically.

Of course.

My eyes drift to the clock over the front door. I breathe deeply trying to quell my irritation. Two minutes have gone past since Mrs. Price left and Dax walks in.

Months of him coming has taught me to breathe through my mouth. He wears more Axe than any teenage boy I have met. He has to go through a can a week. Dax looks like bad news. I have never seen him wear anything but black leather pants and silk shirts. His hair is perpetually oozing grease.

I continue checking books back in. The next five minutes are going to be like reruns of a bad TV show. Its always the same story over and over. The words vary each night but always mean the same thing. I try to ignore the suffocating smell while I work.

Hey Gwen hows work been?

It was lovely, I answer as monotone as possible. I cant stop myself from stressing was but it doesnt matter. He will either ignore it or miss it completely.

Thats great. Its still a mystery to me why you enjoy this job. I could pay you so much more. You could make twice the amount you do now and only have to work two nights a week, purrs Dax. I dont understand why you refuse. Its just a little blood.

My refusal has nothing to do with the job, I answer through clenched teeth.

Dax runs a very specialized club that caters to bloodsuckers. Vamps and certain demons mostly lower class ones, enjoy being Daxs patronages for various reasons. However, its far too suspicious how often he is in need of donors.

Look its not that dangerous. I have a lot of security and none of my donors walks home alone. I even have apartments you can live in for free. You would always have security watching over you. The apartment next to mine is open. I can put you in there, so youll feel especially safe. Dax brushes his fingers across the top of my hand.

My lips curl back in distaste as everything around me blurs. Except for Dax, hes in perfect focus. I can feel my eyes narrow and harden with rage. I lean forward as I lock eyes with him.

I will never work for you. You are a vile little cockroach that refuses to leave or take a hint. You repulse me. My voice sounds distant and hard. I have never heard myself sound like this. A shudder runs through me. I cant tell if its the rage or satisfaction at seeing Dax pale.

His eyes widen as his chin drops down. He instinctively takes a step backwards.

I cant stop myself. I smirk while watching his retreat. Door is that way. You are no longer welcome here. Leave now, I demand as I return back to my stack of books.

Bitch! hisses Dax.

I roll my eyes as I put my stack of books on the cart next to me. The night is almost over and I have work to finish.

My head feels like it has been hit, hard, which might explain why my brain is impersonating a slug. I open my eyes only to be met with a light that left me recoiling in pain and nausea. OW! I moan.

Dont move too quickly. You probably have a concussion, chuckles a masculine voice.

Stiffening, I try to recall my last memory, but all I have is the library.

Where am I? I ask hesitantly. Im not sure I realy want to know.

Adams Park, answers a different masculine voice.

I groan. Adams Park is three miles away from home. The sinking feeling that it was daylight and that these two guys were probably Spooks is making my nausea worse. Do I really want to know how much trouble I might be in?

The two men chuckled and the first one answered, It is daylight, and if this was a normal circumstance you would be in trouble, but being as you were quite deliberately hit over the head and left here to be found, I would say youre safe.

Whats your name? asks the second man.

Gwendelyn and yours?

Sergeant Garion Michaels and this is-

Im Lieutenant Woods, but you can call me. We are at your service, interrupts Ash.

Were your parents disturbed or think they were hilarious? Im sorry that was the concussion speaking and very rude, I apologize.

Garion snorted, Your parents are going to love her.

Ash laughs so loud my head whirls and I wince. Sorry, they thought they were hilarious. Do you need a doctor? You still havent opened your eyes, Ash asks sounding concerned.

I grimace. I dont wanna. It hurt last time I opened them. Plus if I open my eyes it makes all this real, and I dont really want this to be real.

I can hear them shifting around and quietly murmuring to each other. Can you try opening your eyes one more time to find out if the pain is gone or if it has gotten worse?