The Book Waitress Series Volume One (12 page)

“I can walk you out and drive you home, but you have to get a handle on the pain somewhat, so you can sign yourself out in the morning.” He sat on the chair beside her bed. “I spoke to my mother. She gave me her friend’s number and I called her. I had to leave a message, so we’re in a holding pattern. I wonder if we can get back into the library. The volumes of The Devil’s Handbook could be of use to us. You need to get some rest, sweetheart. Nothing more we can do now.”

“You need rest, too. You look like I feel. That ain’t good, I can tell ya that.”

“Scoot over. We’ll rest together. Okay?”

“Okay. You’re a good man, Derek Galloway.” Nestled in his arms, she finally relaxed enough to drift off here and there.

He kissed the top of her head. “And you’re a good woman, Camille Dutton.” Silent tears fell and soaked his shirt as she succumbed to sleep, grateful that the demons finally gave her a bit of peace.

Chapter Three

Derek propped Camille on her cushy couch, and headed straight to the kitchen to put on some tea. His mother’s friend had returned his call on the drive home from the hospital, and gave him an earful about the supernatural. She finished her diatribe with the name and address of a woman on the island that could be of some help. She knew her a long time ago, in another life she had quipped, but she hadn’t seen or heard from her in years. She wasn’t even certain if she still lived. If the address was correct, her house sat on the other side of the island. She didn’t believe in phones, so they’d have to visit her in person.

A shot in the dark was better than nothing. She had had two more episodes since waking in the morning. If what they believed to be happening turned out to be true, a lot of nastiness had entered their world, and they needed to find out as soon as possible how to stop it from spreading.

He put two cups of steeped tea and a plate of cheese and crackers on a tray and brought it back to the living room. “Here you go. A cup of tea, good and strong, and some other yummies for ya.” He rested the tray on the coffee table before them and handed her a cup.

“Thanks for bringing me a skirt and top to change into this morning, and the tea.” She smiled so sweetly and shook her head. “I swear, I think those doctors and nurses were relieved to see me sign the release forms.” She laughed, and gathered her hair up into a loose bun with a hairpin. He thought her hair was so sexy, and he had a wicked thought to hide all of the pins and hair ties he could find in the house. “I noticed a few whispering as you were wheeling me out. I had to bite my tongue, but I really wanted to tell them to make sure and shower in holy water when they got home.”

“You are so evil!” Realizing his faux pas, his eyes widened along with hers, then shut. “Oh, Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that!” He offered her his most sincere glance and apology. “I didn’t mean that literally, of course. You aren’t evil. At all. Not even figuratively. Shit.”

“Derek?”

“What?”

“Shut up and drink your tea.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He sat with her in companionable silence, wondering how long it would be until the next episode. “Do you mind if I go check out the library? Will you be okay here alone for a little bit?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m tolerating the pain a little better now that I know what to expect, and it hasn’t changed from one time to the next. The screeching sound has stopped. Scares me a little, wondering what made that sound in the first place. My overactive imagination is creating quite grotesque monsters to go with it. Anyways, go see what’s going on over there.”

He eased closer to her, cupped her face in his hands and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. “You shouldn’t have to tolerate any of this at all. I
will
find a way to fix you, Camille.” He closed the distance between them and kissed her softly, hoping he’d conveyed his vow clearly enough.

Her hands crawled along his waistline, up his back, to his shoulders riddled with knots. Her fingers dug in as he deepened their kiss and he yelped. She tore away from him, a look of concern on her face.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! What did I do?”

“It’s fine, just some knotted muscles. Nothing major.”

“When you get back from the library, I’ll give you a massage.”

“As much as I would love to feel your hands on me, you have to recuperate. But I’ll take a rain check.” He reluctantly left her side and headed for the door.

“We’ll see. I’m feeling stronger all the time. I could have walked through that door on my own. You refused to let me.”

He pointed a stern finger at her. “
Stay put
. Try watching some TV, or read a book. I’ll be back as soon as I can, hopefully with good news.”

“Yes
, sir!”
Dimples appeared as she saluted him and smiled broadly.

In that moment, he wanted to run back and consume this woman, body and soul. Instead, he walked out, knowing that finding answers to her predicament should take top priority.

As he drove up to the library, he noticed the huge white tent was no longer in the back yard. It had been replaced with yellow and black caution tape, decorating the perimeter of the property. He decided to park on the street and carried his backpack while walking through the desolate parking lot to the front door. A wooden plank had been hastily nailed into place where he’d broken a windowpane. Images from the other night flashed through his mind, forcing him to recall the abject fear and disgust as he and Mr. Michaels discovered the cult performing a sacrificial ritual on Michael’s son, Zachary, and Camille.

Shaking loose from the replay, he noticed a signed posted on the door. “Shut down. Permanently. Hmm. What does that mean for us?” He read further. “Whoa. It’s being put on the market? They don’t waste any time around here, do they? Now, how am I gonna get my hands on those books?”

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

He whirled around in surprise. Having been so caught up in his musings, he hadn’t heard anyone walk up behind him. “Oh, hi there. Yes, I’m Derek Galloway, friend of one of the librarians here. And you are?”

“I’m the realtor, David Marks.”

He quickly sized the guy up to be about forty years old, with thinning hair and a bit of a beer belly ready to burst out of his suit. “Ah, well, maybe you can help me. My friend left some personal items inside at her desk downstairs. She’s been doing research, and hopes to get those particular periodicals to work on at home.”

“One of the librarians, you say? Who?”

“Camille Dutton.”

The realtor sifted through a notebook and file, frowned, and considered him. “Hmm, I see she started working here only a few days ago.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I do have the keys. I guess I could let you in. I was just about to go in myself to have a look around, get a lay of the land, as it were, for sale purposes. Would you be kind enough to show me some identification, please?”

“All right.” He dug into his jeans and pulled out his wallet. “Here’s my driver’s license.”

After giving it a cursory glance, it was returned and the realtor unlocked the door.

“I’ll just be a few minutes. Won’t be a bother at all. She told me where to look. Thanks so much.”

“Sure.”

He hurried downstairs and straight to the aisles, anxious to find The Devil’s Handbooks. He could stuff three or four of them in his pack. “But which three or four? That’s the question.” A harsh thud diverted his thoughts. “Hello? Who’s down here?”

No one responded, but he heard another thud, and yet another. He raced through the stacks to where he thought the sounds were coming from. On the floor of an aisle lay three books. Walking over to them, he recognized the covers immediately. He glanced over to the shelves and found three empty spots with the remaining volumes of the Devil’s Handbook. Damn!

“I, uh, guess I should say thank you, John or Betina. Camille’s told me about you. So, you think these volumes are the ones I should take to her?”

Each book opened on its own, and while he freaked out on the inside, he took a closer look at them, the largest letters on each page combined to form a message. “Be careful,” he read. “Holy crap!” He scrubbed his faced in amazement and bounced a couple of times. “All righty, then. Thanks again, and, uh, maybe we’ll run into each other sometime in the future. I wish you well.”

He picked up all three books and put them in his pack. Just to make it so he wasn’t truly stealing anything, he stopped at the circulation desk, filled out slips for each, and left them on her desk. He took a last look around, amazed by his first true encounter with ghosts.

As he reached the last step, he was met by the realtor. “I was just coming down to get you. I need to leave. Trouble at the office. Don’t know if you or your friend are interested, but this place is going on sale, as is, bargain price after what’s happened and all. It’ll be listed by Wednesday.”

“Intriguing. I’ll let her know. Thanks.” They walked out together and he watched as the realtor locked the door. He couldn’t wait to get back to his book waitress with the spoils of his victorious visit.

***

She’d fought valiantly to hide it, but exhaustion clearly won this latest skirmish as Camille surrendered to her body’s cravings for rest. The bouts of burning pain were taking a heavy toll on not just her body, but her mind, as well. Every new episode had come with more and more guilt, and self-recrimination. As much as her partner in crime needed to know the truth, she couldn’t tell him the depth of her agony. Not yet. What could he do? It would only cause him even more worry. Even in rest, she couldn’t find peace. Satan’s oily voice insinuated itself through the caverns of her mind.

“Selfish child. You’ve resisted me twice, but I
shall
have you, one way or the other. Mark my words. If it has to be by force, then we’ll watch how you single-handedly bring an entire civilization—no, an entire world, to ruin”

“I’ll find a way to stop this.
Mark my words.”

“Oh, there is one way. You’ll come to realize it’s the only way. Sleep well, comforted by the knowledge that you’ve opened much more than a portal in the library well. You’ve unleashed all manner of Hell on Earth.”

The etchings sizzled on her skin, sending her careening to the floor, howling through the torturous moments until it ceased. Sobbing uncontrollably, she pounded the floor with her fists.

“
Whoa!
Damn it. You’re such a liar! You’re not dealing with the pain any better, at all.”

She felt her body easing off of the floor, and realized that he carried her in his arms. “Stop it! I’m not worthy. Just let me burn and rot. I’m evil, through and through.”

“What on earth are you going on about?” He sat on the couch and rested her on his lap. “Talk to me. What’s happened?”

She couldn’t talk for the sobbing. He held her and rocked her in his arms, whispering that it would be okay, and that they’d find a way to end Evil’s hold on her. He mentioned how much she meant to him, and that he would always be there for her. “Stop saying nice things like that. I’m a bad person. I’m the Evil one. You shouldn’t want any part of me.” Struggling to get out of his grasp, she twisted and turned until she finally broke free. Scrambling across the floor, she huddled in a corner and rocked herself.

He crawled on his hands and knees to her. “I’ve got the books, Cam. Your ghost friends helped me. We’re gonna win this fight. Believe in yourself. Believe in me. Trust that, when we work together, we’re a force to be reckoned with. Trust that I care about you like no one else in this world. Come to me, let me hold you. Let me show you how good you really are.”

He held out a hand to her. Evil had done a real number on her in her sleep. She had to push him out of her mind, somehow. Useless facts! She could try using all those facts she stored up for no good reason, but helped her in socially awkward situations. Maybe if she thought about them, she could squeeze the darkness out.

“Did you know that ‘good’ means morally excellent, virtuous, and righteous?” She sniffed and wiped her wet eyes with the hem of her t-shirt. Dragging her fingers through her thick mane, she removed the tumbling mess from her face and did her best to tame the reckless locks of hair.

“No I didn’t.” He extended his hand again, and this time she took it.

“It also means honorable and worthy.”

“Both of which, you are.”

She inched out of the corner, ever closer, and kneeled before him, suddenly sensing his physical need of her, his concern, and affection. How could she deny her own longing and desire for him?

“Show me, Derek.” Her breath hitched. “Show me what Satan refuses me— the truth.”

He rose to meet her in the center of the living room floor, the pair on their knees, like two souls praying and worshipping each other. Butterflies flitted joyfully in her belly, replacing the hurt of earlier, painful times. Her chin trembled with anticipation as he brought his lips to rest upon hers for the most gentle of kisses she believed had ever been given or received.

“I’m worthy, I’m worthy….” she murmured as he kissed her branded eyelids, and chased a single tear that had escaped to run down her cheek with feather-light kisses. He blazed another trail along her throat, down to the sweet spot between her breasts. She enveloped him in her arms, cherishing the gentle
restraint he displayed, appreciating how hard it must be for him to contain his full desires. Even she held back a little, her wounds still smarting under the bandages.

She couldn’t deny herself the glory of seeing what lay hidden under his shirt, and pushed him away to peel the thin material off in a burst of primal wanting. A godlike present awaited underneath. Smooth, sculpted arms, chest, and abdomen seemed to beg for her hands to touch them, and she willingly obeyed. Groaning, his eyes fluttered closed as she explored each hill with her lips, and every valley with the tip of her tongue. He tasted of sunlight and all that was good and honest. Like a man. A virile man, to whom she would have to show her entire body.

She froze, frightened by her urgent need and limitations.

He opened his eyes and, when they met hers, they were filled with understanding. He caressed her cheek and whispered, “Camille, my beautiful flower. Whatever you need, whatever you want, just tell me.”