Order of the Omni: A Supernatural Romantic Suspense Novel (The Immortalies Book 1) by Penny Knight (reading books for 6 year olds TXT) 📕

called, though.” I should have learnt from my previous mistakes jumping into situations without all the information. Oh well, I’ll just wing it again.

He looks around at all the books lining the walls and aisle shelves. “Or we could just ask someone,” he says. “You have a picture on your phone, show that.”

I walk toward an unmanned front counter. A small bell sits in front of a sign that says, ‘Ring for Service’. Following the instructions, I ring the bell.

A tiny man appears from the counter back door. He looks close to eighty. He dawdles towards us, his eyes behind thick black rimmed reading glasses. They double in size. But we’re alone, so out of his sight, I pass Topher my amulet.

“Hello, how are you today?” The old man asks politely.

“Great, thanks. A bit hot out there.” I smile to him.

“Yes, we are in for a heat wave,” he says. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, we are here researching historical bookstores.” I think quickly. “My name is Jessica, and my associate here is Graham. We’re writing a thesis on the changes through history and the decline of old literature and ancient books due to the digital age. Would it be ok if we asked you a few questions for our paper?” And just like that, I’m back to being myself. Able to talk bullshit for days.

“Oh,” the man said. “Well, I guess that would be ok. We don’t get many people visiting the town because of my bookstore. It’s quite refreshing.”

We have even less time to waste, since our little detour on the way. Adding upgrading my car with satellite navigation to the list of things I need. It’s made sense for a while now, investing in a new car. The last time I dished out money on one didn’t end well. But, we’ve never had a sunset deadline before.

I need to make sure I’m on the right track. I put all my energy into concentrating on his thoughts. With only two other people in the room. I zero in on the owner.

I can’t believe they are here for my store. Finally, someone taking an interest in my life’s work.

“Great, thanks,” I say. “It won’t take too long.” I pull out my phone from my bag. “Do you mind if I record our interview?” I find it always helps to go the extra mile in convincing someone of your legitimacy so they can open up more.

“Not at all,” the man says. He walks around from the counter. “There’s a small table at the front. We can sit there.”

We follow the elderly man toward the front of the store as we sit down on the black cast-iron chairs. The conversation flows. He’s excited to talk about his life and his love for books. Gregory Smith, born in 1930, purchased the store when he was twenty-two. He reveals how he travelled through Australia and Europe collecting original pieces. He describes his love of books and the history of how he managed to stay in business for almost fifty years.

Even though we came here purely for information and the book, his story is quite remarkable. This man loves his job, it’s his passion, and it’s commendable the lengths he has gone through to make it happen. I can’t help getting lost in his resilience and life story.

Topher nudges me under the table, bringing me back to reality. The reason we are here.

“So, in our day and age, books have been converted to read online,” I steer the conversation. “Do you have any books here that aren’t available digitally?”

“Oh, yes. There are books in the store that I have personally acquired throughout my travels, first editions, unknown authors, memoirs,” he says.

“We have found some amazing books travelling around bookstores in Australia,” I say. “We’ve seen diaries of settlers and so much more. But what we find very interesting is mystical books. Books that are passed down through generations, that may not have been published for sale. Like grimoires or journals,” I edge closer to what I hope to find or hear.

Oh, I have a book you would love. But it’s too dangerous, and I swore to never talk about it. Oh, but you would love the story.

He has the book, I know it. Gauging his response and reading his body language, I believe he’s the loyal type. If he’s made an oath, I believe he would stick to it. I need to get it out of him, somehow through his thoughts. It feels wrong, intrusive, but I have to do what needs to be done.

“No. There isn’t anything like that here. We have some mystical books. But no unpublished works,” he says.

I look over at Topher, his eyes screaming waste of time at me.

I know it’s here. As nice as this man is doesn’t change the fact the answer to who I am, could lie in that book. The moral question to what I’m doing, has to take a back seat. There is an underworld out there, and I’m getting sick of being the only one not in the know. Especially when the crazy has become true. I can hear the thoughts of others. It’s time to get the book. I just need him to think of it again.

“We recently came from a bookstore in the Barossa Valley in South Australia. They told me of a tale of a book with no name, that may have found its way here. There was a picture on the front, hang on, I’ll show you.” I pull out my phone and scroll to the picture of the mark and zoom in so he can see it better.

No one should know I have the book. They will come for me if anyone finds out.

I see fear in his eyes, the worry lines deep on his face.

“Here,” I hold out the phone to him.

How? How could she possibly know? Oh, if she knows others might. I have hidden it here for twenty-three years. No trouble, nothing. No,