AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Horrified astonishment instantly marred his handsome face. “Young lady, this is not a café. ”
Nerves had me giddy, and I had to bite my cheek not to giggle at his expression. “I’m so sorry,” I said with my chirpiest voice and scooped the cup back up. It’d left a gratifyingly dark ring, which I promptly set to dabbing with my sleeve. I was walking a fine line here. I needed to be careful—bad enough to earn a minor disciplinary action, but not so bad I’d lose my life over it. “Oh no. This is terrible. My sincerest apologies. ”
“What did you want?” He addressed me as though he had something distasteful on his tongue.
Okay. So a coffee ring on his antique desk didn’t do it. I’d need to go further. If I spilled on his shirt, I might get laundry duty, but what would I do with a bunch of soap? No, I needed janitorial duty—maintenance guys surely had all kinds of chemicals and tools at their disposal.
“I needed to ask you about something,” I said, thinking fast. Honestly, I’d expected to be punished the moment I walked in. “It can wait, though. If this is a bad time. ”
“I told you it was not. Now speak before you try my patience further. ”
“I had a question about…an academic matter. ” I widened my senses, assessing his office as best I could without actually pausing to look around. Beneath his desk was a gorgeous Aubusson throw rug, with a floral pattern in shades of pale peach, sky blue, and ivory. I prayed it wasn’t priceless and irreplaceable, because spilled coffee could really mess it up good.
I needed to get behind his desk. I stepped forward.
“Stop,” he said sharply. “You have thirty seconds to tell me why you’re here before I pursue disciplinary measures. ”
“I beg your pardon, Headmaster. It’s just your office is so overwhelming. I’ll make it quick. ” Thinking fast, I said, “I wanted to propose we establish a TA program. ”
“TA?” He articulated each letter as though I were speaking some foreign tongue.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Like teacher’s assistants, research assistants, that sort of thing. Like at real colleges. ”
“This is not a real college. ” He scooted back like he was about usher me out himself.
It was now or never.
I made like I tripped.
My cup spilled, the dregs of my nasty coffee unfurling like a black spiderweb across that pretty carpet.
Fournier made a horrified gasp. He pointed to the door. “Acari Drew. You will report to the janitor, with whom you will spend the rest of your day. ”
Score.
Custodial storage was in an outbuilding around the back of—go figure—the old chapel. With just a single hanging bulb, the place was dark, cold, and dank, and considering the small garden plot languishing behind the chapel, I guessed that it’d begun its life as a potting shed. I peeked inside, and where most would see basic cleaning supplies, I saw a gold mine. Just a quick scan, and I was able to identify enough materials to assemble several Molotov cocktails, a thrilling number of stakes, and the makings of enough toxic gases to choke an entire building. Surely among all this crap, I could find something to make a simple cast of that medallion.
When my eyes came to the workbench, I gaped. Dozens of keys hung above—there was hook after hook of them, bearing keys old and new, in all sizes, on all manner of rings, chains, and retractable loops. Once I figured out the casting thing, I could turn my attention here. Every locked door on campus would be mine. “Damn,” I whispered.
“Mind your tongue or you’ll be cleaning toilets with it. ”
I startled, cursing myself that I’d let the janitor—the janitor, for pity’s sake—surprise me from behind. What was wrong with me? Letting Trainees catch me unawares was bad enough, but this was just plain sloppy. Was it the absence of Carden’s blood that was making me so distracted? I needed to stop tempting fate and focus.
I quickly assessed the man, and just one look was enough to tell me what a charmer he was. I hadn’t known what to expect, maybe a slice of affable village quirkiness, à la Tom the Draug keeper, but this guy was about as pleasant as dental work. Which he clearly needed, BTW.
“Sorry,” I said, on instant alert. I estimated he was in his fifties, with the heavily ridged brow generally associated with Neanderthals, lifelong mental asylum inmates, and the sort of creepy loners who lurked after teenaged girls like me. I decided to play it polite, wanting to make as few ripples in his little pond as possible. “Just tell me what I need to do. ”
“Swab. ” He thrust a mop into my hands.
Swab? What was he, a pirate? I scrunched my nose as a rank smell made me consider the thing in my hands. I held the mop as far away from my body as possible, certain I was tempting all manner of fungal infections simply by holding it. It’d been cleaning floors for decades, and if I’d assumed that’d make it clean, I’d have assumed wrong.
In fact, the whole outbuilding smelled off, like a sickening mix of noxious cleaners and damp stone. “You don’t sleep in here, do you?” I had to ask it—I had a feeling I’d be breaking back in here and I didn’t want any surprises when I did.
“Rats sleep in here. I look like a rat to you?”
“Of course not,” I muttered. It’s only your teeth that are rodentlike.
So, me and Mr. Dynamic weren’t going to be fast friends. But scanning his shelves sure consoled me. All those boxes, aerosol cans, and canisters bearing unrecognizable foreign brand names—some kind of molding material was sure to be among them. And besides, there were worse things than spending the afternoon crawling behind Fournier’s desk, swabbing spilled coffee. Who knew what secrets I might stumble across down there?
