Glancing at me, she snorts.“But do you know whathappenedas soon as I sat down to write?”
Ishakemy head.“What?”
“The fucking vampire decided he wasn’t thatfuckingstupid, andhe fuckinggot away at the end of bookfuckingone.”
Wow, that’s a lot of ‘fucking’.She is clearly still holding a grudge against her characters.
“So now the damn thing is a twelve book series.Twelve.”Sheshakesher head in exasperation.“And in the second book,the stupid male leadkept cutting off his hands.Who even does that?Like, dear gods, why?I couldn’t leave him alone fortwoparagraphs before off came his hands.”
Rolling her eyes, she exitson the fourth floor.Her slow ambletakesme around theedge of the library.
“So what did you do?”I ask, getting invested in the story.
She grinsdevilishly.“I drugged thecrap out of him.Every time he woke up” –she snaps her fingers– “drugged.Fucking prick.Anyway, this is the reference section.I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking forhere.”
She wavesat a shelf of books, and my eyes follow.The Fastest Assassinations in History.The Cruelest Ways to Die.101 Ways to Kill a Queen.Getting to the Heart of a Person.
Looking back at her, I smile.“I’m sure I will, thank you.”
“My pleasure.Let me know if you need any more help.”
As she walksaway, I turn my attention to the books in front of me.Pulling one off the shelf at random, I flip it open.
Honey, Does This Taste Like Poison to You?
A male’s body was found collapsed at the kitchen table in a house inValarassi.A large feast was laid out before him, filling the entire six-person table.His death would have baffled the investigators, as there were no wounds on his bodyor traces of poison, if not for the waterproof note found at the bottom of his empty soup bowl.
It read:“I bet you regret using my people scissors on paper now, you piece of shit.”
It is uncertain what poisonthekillerlaced all the food with, but every bowl, plate, and cup had a similar note at the bottom.
For those who are unaware, ‘people scissors’ are exactly what they sound like – a specialised pair of scissors that are made for cutting into people.Theyare afavouredform of tortureby none other than Evangeline Sinclair.Though, of course, this author does not think she’s the killer of this unsolved case.
Great.Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.Not only did it not tell me where to find any poison; it didn’t even tell me what kind to use.Ugh.
Book after book, I pull off the shelves.Book after book, I set aside, finding nothing within them that will help me.Sitting down, Idrop my head into the pages of the latest book, pressing it against my face.
“Not having any luck?”
I jerk upright atthe sound ofJace’s voice.Scrambling to my feet, Ihidewhat I’m readingbehind my backwith both hands.“What are you doing here?IsRichardhere?”My eyes dart around nervously.
“It’s my day off, so I don’t knowfor sure, butI’d say he’sin his study.”Looking over my head, he scansthe shelves.
Theblood drainsfrom my face.“It’s for research.Book research,” I squeak.“For my book.That I’m writing.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is.”
Reaching past me, he grabsa book with a chained,nakedman on the cover.His arms are stretchedover his head, a blindfoldsitsover his eyes,anda ball gagis crammed intohis mouth.“I’d recommend this one then.”
He handsit to me, and Itakeit slowly.My eyes widen.“Good Enough to Die For?”This is definitely a sex-murder book.
He leansin with a smirk.“A few of those entries are mine.”
My mouth dropsopen.The urge to flip through it and see which ones he could possibly meanis makingmy fingers twitch.
He pulls more books off the shelves, balancing themallon one hand.My eyes widen the more he stacks.One, two, three…fifteenbooks.In one hand.Dear gods, how strong is he?
