American library books » Fantasy » Angel of Death by Lydia Hub (elon musk reading list txt) 📕

Read book online «Angel of Death by Lydia Hub (elon musk reading list txt) 📕».   Author   -   Lydia Hub



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“I don’t know why you do that, I always open the door just as you do that. You always fall.” He laughs then helps Octavius up. He has his hood down now and I can see his face in perfect detail. I can see the shadow his curly mess of brown hair makes on his face, the way his upper lip sticks out a tiny bit more that his bottom one. He has a strong jaw and cheek bones. With his noes he has a strong, powerful face that contradicts his messy hair but some how works to make him very attractive .
“Your Fisher Davis!” I blurt suddenly. He and Octavius stare at me for a moment.
“You know Fisher?” Octavius asks in aw.
“Not really. We went to the same high school and college but he’s two years older than me.” I say still staring at Fisher.
“I was a junior when she was a freshman.” He says looking at Octavius, again it’s like I’m not even here. “I though you seemed familiar.”
“That’s so weird.” Octavius says almost in a whisper. “But we hardly have time for you two to catch up now.” He starts down the hall again. He leads us through the halls at a faster pace than before. “This is the dining hall, the library’s down there and the gym, yes I said gym, is through that door.”
“Why do we need a gym?” I ask trying to keep up with Octavius.
“When you get bored there’s not much else to do.” Fisher says.

Octavius leads us around the castle for about an hour before he has to go help someone else. When he leaves he puts Fisher in charge of me, “Don’t let her break anything.” he’d says jokingly before hurrying down the hall. Now I sit on the floor of Fisher’s room playing with the sleeve of my robe.
“You never answered my question.” Fisher says sitting up on his bed.
“What question?”
“Why are you happy I’m a guy?” Suddenly I’m brought back to the conversation we had earlier in the day.
“I’m not happy your a guy.” I say the stop myself when I see the hurt look on his face. “That’s not what I mean!” I yell laughing as I feel my face flush.
“Okay, what do you mean?” He says smiling.
“I mean I’m happy that I guessed right, I don’t care if your a guy or a girl.”
“So I’m guessing you like to win?” He ask teasingly.
“No,” I pause “I love to win.”
“It fits your personality.” Fisher says laying back on his bed.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Yep.” He says taking a red ball off of his bedside table, he starts bouncing it off the ceiling.
“You know we had three classes together in high school? One your junior year and two your senior year.”
“Really? I don’t remember. It was so long ago.” He stops throwing the ball, holding it in his hands. He squeezes it twice then starts throwing it again.
“You only talked to me when you needed a pencil or paper.” I know I’m making him seem like a jerk but I don’t care, there’s no one else here to hear me.
“Umm... sorry?”
“Like you said, it was a long time ago.” I stand up and stretch. “So why do we have to wear robes?”
“That’s a good question. Where are you going?” He sits up again.
“I’m going to take a shower.” I cross the hall to my room and head into my bathroom.

After showering I go into the hall and Fisher tells me it’s time for dinner. He then leads the way to the dining hall. The dining hall is a huge room filled with the longest tables I’ve ever seen. Fisher and I sit facing each other at the end of one table, the people that sit next to us act like we’re not here and we do the same. When the food comes I realize how hungry I actually am, that is until I see the food. It’s a weird lumpy brown mush that reminds me of oatmeal but stickier.
“It looks like baby throw up.” I say without thinking. Fisher just stares at me. “What? It does!” I say poking it with my spoon.
“You get used to it.” He says that shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “It tastes a lot worse than it looks.”
“That makes me want to eat it.” I say sarcastically. Slowly I scoop a small amount of mush up and bring it to my nose. “It smells like my grandma’s feet!” I screech dropping my spoon back into the bowl.
“Just eat it.” Fisher’s already cleaned out his bowl and now he’s waiting for me to finish. “The faster you eat it the faster it’s gone.” I look at him then the mush, then him again. I take a big spoonful of the stuff and shove it in my mouth.
“Ew!” I yell swallowing it. It taste like a spoon full of salt with the texture of sand. I make myself eat another bite because of the look on Fisher’s face. When it’s all gone we walk back to our rooms together. Our robes make a gentle swishing sound as we walk through the halls. When we get to our rooms Fisher doesn’t say anything as he moves towards his door. “Good night.” I say cheerfully.
“Yep.”
“See tomorrow.” Suddenly he’s pulling away from his door. He grabs my hand and squeezes it a little bit too hard.
“Maybe.” Then he pulls away and disappears into his room.

I wake up to some one knocking on my door. When I open it Octavius falls to the floor at my feet. He’s up and talking before I can even blink and I struggle to understand what he’s saying.
“Okay, we have a lot to do today. First breakfast, then we have to get you to the fitting room, then training starts. Come on, come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall.
“Where’s Fisher?” I ask letting him pull me along behind him.
“Early suicide, Fish had to go get her. Only she didn’t wait in the clearing like most people do, now he has to find her. Might be out all day.”
“Do you think he’ll be back by dinner?”
“Who knows.” He says slowing his pace. “Come on breakfast awaits.” We walk into the dining hall and sit in the same spot that Fisher and I sat in last night. This morning we’re having some weird blue liquid.
“What’s with this food?” I say poking it with a spoon.
“You get what you get, here.” He says quickly sucking down his breakfast.
“What?”
“Just drink it.” He says pushing my glass towards me.
“Fine.” I say picking up my drink. I take a huge mouthful. It taste like salty, blended up blueberries. “Gross.”
“Get over it.” Octavius says sounding bored.
“What is this?” I suck down the rest of my blueberry stuff.
“How should I know, I’m not the chef.” Octavius stands up and pulls me out of my seat. “Come on we don’t have forever.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
“To fitting!” He says enthusiastically.

Fitting, as I learn is where people like me are measured for our training suits. When Octavius and I walk in I’m immediately swept into a hug by a boney woman with curly brown hair and thick red rimmed glasses. She squeals and jumps up and down.
“You didn’t tell me she was so pretty!” She says to Octavius grabbing my hands. “I’m Anissa.”
“I didn’t think that it was important.” Octavius says rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back in two hours to take her to training.”
“Ooh, what’s she going to be?”
“4, 5, 1, 20, 8.” He grimaces as he says this.
“What! No! Why?” She starts balling right there in the middle of measuring my arm length.
“I’ll explain later, now, I have to go.” Octavius rushes out the door, the door slamming shut behind him.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry.” She pats my arm reassuringly. “Well these thing happen.”
“Um... okay.” Her words, along with Octavius’ number confuse me. I spend the rest of fitting being poked with needles and trying to figure out what 4, 5, 1, 20, 8 could possibly mean.
“Okay hun, almost done.” I hear her snip a piece of thread before she stands up. “You look great.”
“Um... thanks.” She pulls me over to a huge mirror, placing her hand over my eyes before I get a glance at what I look like.
“Ready?”Her voice is enthusiastic and I smile at her happiness.
“Yes.” Suddenly I’m brought back my senior prom.

My little sister, Alexis, had been bouncing around my room all night while my mom helped me with my make-up and hair. I had stood in front of my full-length mirror with my mother’s hands over my eyes.
“Ready?” My mom had asked.
“Yes.” I remember how I’d practically screamed that one word. Then my mother had taken her hands away from my eyes, letting me see my self. My brown, hair all done up under my tiara, which I hadn’t wanted but my little sister had insisted on. Seeing it in my hair, I was glad I’d agreed. My sister had also helped me pick out the floor-length, orange dress I wore. Again I had protested saying I didn’t want to stand out that much, but I didn’t stand a chance against her. She always new what would look good on people. When I moved my dress had shimmered in the dim light of my desk lamp and I’d been mesmerized.

“Emma! Emma!” Anissa’s voice is loud and full of panic. Her boney hands are on my shoulders shaking me violently. When my eyes focus on hers she seems to calm down a bit. “What was that? Where did you go?” She asks shaking me again.
“No where, I’m fine.” There, the first time I lie in the after life. “Can I look in the mirror now?” I smile, holding back my tears. I want to cry because now I realize how much I miss them.
“Oh, sure hun.” She moves to one side, clearing my line of vision. When I see myself I’m stunned, I’m wearing mid-night black skinny jeans and a tight, black, T-shirt. I wear a interesting grey jacket over my shirt. The jacket is made of grey fabric but fifty or so gold zippers criss-cross all over it. Some are pulled open a bit, revealing dark blue fabric underneath. It’s the most fascinating piece of clothing I’ve ever seen, slowly I stroke the sleeve with the fingers of my left hand. The fabric is firm, part of me knows that I could set this on fire and it wouldn’t burn.
“This is amazing.” I whisper, still stroking the jacket.
“Glad you like it.” Anissa says tucking the bottom down a bit. “It’s one of a kind, every thing I make is.” She smiles, moving my hair off my shoulder.
“Is it mine?” I ask hopeful.
“It was custom made for you.” She says simply. “And here are your sneakers.” She says pulling a box out from under a nearby chair and handing it to me. “Open it.” When I do I see simple grey sneakers sitting in a nest of blue tissue paper.
“Um... wow.” I say some-what let down.
“Put them on, put them on.” She says, excitedly taking the box from me and pushing me into a chair. She has them on my feet quickly tying them for me. “Walk around.” She orders. I do as she says and the shoes quickly respond. Every time my
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