Chapter one:
"Fuck," she exclaimed, as she plopped down onto the stool behind the counter. For working in a used bookstore, some days were extremely hard to deal with, today being one of them. She watched with narrow eyes as her most recent problem customer walked out of view of the front window, and narrowly avoided the temptation to stick her tongue out at him. A headache was pounding at the back of her head, and she placed her throbbing forehead against the cool wood of the counter. She was happy for once that the shop wasn't busy, as she was sure that the sound of the dinging bell would be her undoing. She was used to her regulars, the people that would come in and exchange books for new ones, with a small fee attached of course, and of course the random people that would wander in off the street, seeing this quaint little shop. But the guy who had just left, he was a real piece of work…acting superior and ordering her around, like she would put up with that. He claimed to be from some government agency, but refused to show her any sort of identification to validate his claim.
He wouldn't be the first show boater to come in and demand things from her family. The Andersen family was once well known in the trade of expensive and rare books, as her grandmother, and subsequently her mother, were traders and appraisers of ancient books and artifacts, something fascinating that drew the women of her family together. She shook herself, as if trying to shake off her unease from her visitor. She didn't know what it was about him, but she didn't like him, whatsoever. It wasn't just his cocky attitude, nor just his bald head and very strange eye-patch. It was something more. As soon as he stepped into her store she had the reaction of wanting to throw him out. Apparently her gut reaction was right, as he turned out to be a pompous ass. She pulled her dark hair out of its pony tail as she grinned mischievously. The government man had asked her if she was in the possession of an ancient Nordic book, one that would probably be worth a pretty penny. She stood from her seat and moved to the door, flipping the open sign to read closed, before making her way to the back of the store, and stealing up a set of stairs.
The shop had been in her family for generations, her great grandfather opening it up when he first moved to Canada, emigrating from Norway. They settled in a small town outside of Toronto, and had been there ever since. With her grandmother's and mother's chosen professions, they needed a place to store their most precious books that they had collected over the years, or at least made copies of. Her mother was an expert in illuminating manuscripts, and copying them. It would have been considered forgery if she had tried to sell them and pass them off as the original, but her mother never had, she just kept these copies for her own enjoyment of texts she couldn't keep. The girl pushed thoughts of her mother out of her mind as she approached a door. It looked like a normal wooden door, fitting with the décor of the shop, but she knew differently. She pressed her thumb over the doorknob, noticing the subtle beep sound it made, which most people would miss. If the fingers on the doorknob weren't registered, the cops would be called, all without the thief's knowledge, while of course, the door would remained locked. However, as her fingerprints were registered and allowed, the door unlocked and she eagerly opened it. The smell of old books wafted to her nose. While the same sort of smell existed downstairs, with the mass rows of used books that were sold there, this smell was different. To her this smell promised mystery and intrigue, daring her to pursue the texts within the room, which she had done on numerous occasions. She walked right to one glass case, where the book she was looking for was located. She grinned to herself as she opened the doors. She had always been slightly afraid of touching these ancient books, but her mother had taught her the correct way to do so, so that they would not come apart or be damaged. Most of the books in this room were palimpsests, and the truly ancient texts had to be gleaned from beneath the writing over top, but not this one.
Someone had decided that this particular text was important enough to warrant keeping, in times when paper was scarce and a hot commodity. The cover of the book was nothing special, just looked like leather, some sort of animal hide. This book was nameless, no inscription on either the cover or the inner pages revealed who wrote it, or to what purpose. This was by far her favourite book in the collection, for multiple reasons, but right now it was her favourite because it was what that government guy wanted, something he would never have, as long as she had something to say about it. She reached out a finger to stroke the leather, the vellum was alright to touch, as it craved the oils from human fingers, to keep it shining. She jumped out of her skin as a sound disrupted the silence of the room. She pressed a hand to her heart as she reached into her back pocket with the other one, retrieving her cell phone, which was the source of the interrupting noise. She sighed as she looked at the number and answered it begrudgingly.
"Arndis!" the familiar voice squealed. "Thank god you picked up!" It was her cousin, Beth, and she could already guess what this phone call was about.
Arndis smiled to herself, loving the fact that she knew her cousin so well, and because of that knowledge, she knew that this would not be a short conversation. She exchanged small talk with her cousin while she locked up the safe room, and headed back downstairs, and plopped herself into a comfortable chair by the window.
"So you have to come tonight!" Beth was exclaiming. She had been trying to convince Arndis to come to some stupid party for weeks now. The love of Beth's life, who also didn't know she existed, was going to be there, and Beth was invited, sending her mind into fairy-tale land where they would meet and he would fall madly in love with her, like Cinderella or something. Arndis barely held in a snort. Arndis opened her mouth to refuse but her cousin stopped her by saying. "Come on, you haven't been out at all since—"
Arndis stopped her cousin with an angry, "Don't", her voice almost a growl. She knew what her cousin was referring to, but had no desire to think about that at this moment.
"All you do is go to school and then sit in that bookstore. It's not healthy. Mom has been worried about you and is about to stage an intervention. Come with me tonight, if only to avoid that from happening."
Despite herself, Arndis found herself grinning. She could only imagine her aunt Tessa on the rampage. She had fortunately stayed under the radar for a long while, but apparently that grace period was up. Beth, impervious to Arndis' thoughts, continued on. "And you are graduating University this year. This is really your last chance to party it up, while being still socially acceptable." Arndis sighed heavily, but she knew that she would consent. Not only because of her aunt, but because she loved her cousin dearly, like a sister, and would sacrifice her own happiness for an evening to help her fairy-tale unfold…or to help pick up the pieces when it shattered, like it most likely will.
"Fine, Beth. When should I come over?"
Arndis sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face looked washed out and sad, but there was nothing she could do about it. She'd looked that way for over two years, ever since…but no, she wouldn't think about that, not if she expected herself to go to a party tonight. She had curled her hair slightly, letting it fall down around her face, in the hopes of distracting anyone who looked at her from the sadness there. Or to at least blend in more. She was wearing jeans, as she refused to wear a miniskirt like her cousin surely would be. She was 22, after all, and she felt that her time for miniskirts and reckless behaviour were behind her, stuck firmly in her memories from first year university. She had opted for a nicer top, one that Beth had bought her, as it was something that she never wore, something entirely different from her usual wardrobe. The deep green top rode low in the chest, exposing her ample cleavage, something that she usually didn't do. Arndis smiled despite herself, thinking that she looked presentable at least, which was more than she usually did in her hoodies. Arndis looked at the time and swore. She ran about her bachelor apartment and threw on some leather boots and her coat and dashed out the door into the cold.
As she walked quickly, she wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck, tucking it into her coat as she walked. Beth was going to kill her. She was going to be late to Beth's and then they would be late to the party. Beth was concerned that if she was late her crush, Mark, will have already found someone else to keep his attention. And knowing Mark, that threat was actually plausible. He was the stereotypical "hottie", a football star, muscular, tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. He wasn't Arndis' type though, although she could appreciate what the other girls saw in him. She knew she would find him incredibly dull, and he would probably find her the same. Never into sports, more apt to bury her nose in a book, Arndis figured that they would have nothing to talk about…and for a split second she imagined the horrific idea if Beth and Mark got married, and she'd have to play nice and talk to him at family gatherings…She shook off her thought, wondering when she had started fantasizing like Beth. Arndis lifted her hands to her mouth and blew some hot air over them. It was late fall, and she should have worn her gloves, but she hadn't remembered in her hurry to leave, something she was sorely regretting now. Arndis frowned as she heard footsteps behind her, quietly. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and knew something was wrong. She hurried her pace, not looking back, as she didn't want whoever was behind her to realise that she knew of their existence. She heard voices a head of her and she almost sprinted towards the sound, not caring who it was, just thinking that she might be safer amongst other people. She slowed her steps as she approached a group of boys. They had open beers in their hands and were wobbling while they were walking. She recognized the symbol on one of the boy's sweaters, identifying him as a member of a fraternity from her university. She didn't know which one, however, as the Greek system seemed pointless and wasteful to her. Beth had rushed a sorority once, and then quit halfway through when she realised how that life didn't suit her.
Arndis stopped walking as one of the frat boys whistled at her, drawing the attention of the other boys to her. Arndis swallowed hard, hoping that they would just continue on their way. The one who whistled staggered over to her, while he was drunk, the size of his shoulders and a certain look in his eye made cool fingers of fear crawl up Arndis' back. "My, aren't you pretty?" he said, looming over her. She heard his friends snicker behind him, and she swallowed again. She plastered a smile onto her face and then tried side stepping him. He followed her movement, blocking her way. She looked behind her, feeling bile rise to her throat as she saw another man in a matching sweater walking towards her from the other side, perhaps he was the one that had been following her before. Arndis clenched her hands into fists at her sides, and tried her best to recall her self-defence training she had received in high school, which seemed like a million years ago. She took deep breaths, feeling the need to hyperventilate coming upon her, and she knew that would help no one. The guy in front of her was leaning down into her face, close enough that she could smell the booze on his breath. "A pretty girl like you, shouldn't be walking alone…" he said, and Arndis dug her nails into her palms as he reached out and ran his hand over the length of her hair.
Arndis clenched her teeth and in the strongest voice she could muster, said, "Don't fucking touch me."
This was apparently hilarious, as all the boys started laughing, some a lot harder than others. The man in front of her chuckled and as if to show her that her words meant nothing to him, reached out and grabbed her breast, through her coat. Arndis didn't know what happened next, she didn't even remember thinking it through, but the man was crouched over, cupping his testicles, and her knee throbbed slightly, as if it had just bumped into something. "Fucking cunt!" the man exclaimed and she could see the anger in his eyes. Arndis swallowed as the three other boys turned in her direction, looking angry too, as if personally affronted by her attack on their buddy. She knew she had to get out of there, and as soon as possible. She turned and started to run, as fast as her legs would carry her. She cursed herself for wearing boots with high heels on them, as they severely slowed her down. She let out a sob of defeat as she felt a hand wrap around her upper arm, spinning her around. Unsurprisingly, it was one of the frat boys. His hair looked windswept and she recognized him as the one that had startled her in the first place. He was grinning, as if this was the best accomplishment he had ever worked towards. His hand pressed roughly into her arm and she fought back a whimper, not wanting to show him how much it hurt. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out a way out. She tried struggling against his grip, but it was tight. She felt tears leak out of her eyes as the other four guys approached. Another one grabbed her other arm, preventing her from struggling, and turned her to face the man she had injured. Fear rose in her throat, tasting like iron in her mouth, causing her body to shake, as she knew what was going to happen. She knew she was outnumbered and couldn't fight them all. She could take one, she supposed, but not five. The injured man walked forward and slowly undid the belt of her coat, sliding it through the buckle with a laugh. Arndis shivered against the chill as the cool fall air hit against her chest. Just before the man grabbed her shirt, a voice interceded.
"Unhand the woman." The voice sent a shiver up Arndis' back, which had nothing to do with the cold. She couldn't see the speaker, as he was situated behind her, but she desperately wanted to. His voice was deep and commanding, with what sounded a bit like a British accent. Even in this situation, the sound of the man's voice had desire shooting to her stomach. This desire was quelled slightly when the men holding her laughed. "You heard me, mortals. Unhand the woman," the voice said again, a little anger leaking into it.
Arndis felt relief flow through her as the man standing in front of her turned towards the newcomer. She struggled against the hands restraining her. She was turned around by those holding her and she was slightly shocked at the sight in front of her. The man who was trying to rescue her looked slight. His shoulders were not as broad as the man who was now facing him down. It was not his size that shocked her, but his garb. He was wearing nothing on his feet, his bare toes touching the freezing pavement. His arms were exposed in the light almost tunic-like shirt he wore, the same deep green colour as her own. She looked down at the pants he wore and despite her situation, fought a blush. His pants were skin tight, almost like the leggings she wore on occasion, which left little to the imagination. His hair was past his shoulders, and raven black, messily strewn about as if he had just been through a wind storm.
The blonde man approached him and swung a fist towards the raven-haired man. He slighter man evaded it easily, and placed a kick to the other man's stomach, sending him reeling. Arndis felt another chill take over her body as she watched the raven-haired man grin, but this was a grin without humor, his lips stretching over his face showed enjoyment of the fight. Yet, somehow, that grin was enough to turn her legs to jelly, and if not for the men holding her arms, she would have fallen to her knees. The other man, who had been little more than a bystander up to this point, rushed at the raven-haired man and was met with the same fate as his friend. Arndis staggered backwards as her arms were let free of their vices. The two men previously restraining her walked towards the threatening man, whose green eyes seemed to glow in the dark night, as if lighting up at the idea of a challenge. Despite her desire to stay and watch how this ended, the rational side of her brain took over and forced her jelly-like legs to run, and run away, with shouts of pain and dismay in her wake.
