Page 24 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

“Gods, she is fucking terrifying.” A different voice grunts in agreement, followed by a series of sighs and the shuffle of feet.

“Come on, then. Let’s get these boxes loaded.

” For several long minutes, the only sound is muffled movement and the shuffling of paper mixed with muttered complaints that are nothing more than a hum from here.

“You’ve got that one?” Another grunt. “Alright, these need to be loaded.” The receding footsteps disappear, and I creep back to the door, the wood warm against my ear as I listen.

When it’s silent, I twist the knob and push into an empty hallway.

The door to the room of files is pulled, but a thin border of light illuminates its outline.

It isn’t shut.

Indecision locks my legs in place for too long, and the gruff voice and clopping footsteps return. I busy myself with work, and within an hour, the process repeats itself. The workers load boxes and carry them away.

This time, I don’t wait. As soon as they round the corner, I step into the hallway. My whole body trembles as I take a few lengthy, quiet strides towards that open doorway. Drumming, deafening thuds of my heart fill my ears as I get closer, the thirty feet suddenly like a mile.

“August!” I jump straight off the ground and spin, clutching my chest as Xeni grins at me. He’s clueless. I nearly died of a heart attack, and he was this close to digging my grave. “Scared you, did I?”

“Sorry, sorry, I was just…” I glance around and wave vaguely. “Bathroom.”

His lips twitch. “All that time alone in your little room making you skittish?”

I force my face to relax into a smile. “Must be. I’ve gotten so used to being by myself, I forgot what it was like to hear your incessant talking all day.”

“Ouch,” he laughs, clutching his chest and playfully staggering forward. “Right in the heart, August. Right in the fucking heart.”

Voices echo through the halls, and I try not to let my disappointment show. “Well,” I say with a touch of awkwardness as I hike my thumb over my shoulder. “I gotta… ”

“Yeah, of course. Have you, uh…” He rubs his bottom lip as he takes a step closer and leans in, intimately close. “How are your bearings? Have you given any more thought to my invitation?” He smiles again, disarming and sweet, but he isn’t who I want.

“That’s not a good idea.” It’s the same answer as last time, and my eyes fall over his shoulder to the workers that have returned.

“Oh, come on, August. It’s just dinner.” He reaches for my hand as a strange tingling sensation hits me in the chest and makes my brain go fuzzy.

I tilt my head in confusion, then glance down at where he holds my fingers.

“I really like you,” he says with another sweet smile. “We could be good together.”

My tongue is loose in my mouth, encouraging me to agree.

I enjoy Xeni’s company, even if there are no romantic feelings there.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend time with a friend.

A memory flashes in my mind, when Elas told me about Cavese being able to influence people, but Xeni wouldn’t do that to me.

Would he?

“Elas won’t like you touching me,” I whisper as I stare at his fingers on mine.

He yanks his hand away and takes a half step backward, a momentary flash of hurt on his face. “Should’ve known you’d pick him.”

“Xeni—” I start, not wanting there to be tension between us when we have to work together, but he flips his switch and his smile returns.

“It’s fine, August. Friends, yeah? ”

“Of course,” I say, bunching my brows as he beams at me.

“I need to get to work before Chief yells at me again. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he turns and walks down the hall without so much as a backwards glance.

The workers are standing awkwardly beside the door of the room they’re working in, pretending they didn’t overhear that entire conversation. I realize they don’t want me to see they’ve left it unlocked, so after a brief, uninterested smile, I close myself back in my file room.

On their next trip, one of them drops a box and tells the other to go on without him. Their staggering departure means that as the second one finally leaves, the other is coming back, and my window of opportunity is quickly closing. Impatience has me jittery, my feet restless to move.

The next time they leave, I don’t give myself a chance for second guessing.

I listen for a few breaths, and when I’m greeted with silence, I bolt into the hallway like my feet are on fire.

Ignoring the panic that’s telling me to abandon my plan, I double check that no one is coming before I push inside.

Several shelves are already empty, but the amount of paperwork feels endless.

I’m not sure how they think three trips in a van will move it all.

They aren’t organized by name or date, and I can’t find any logic to their order.

There’s no rhyme or reason to their placement, though it isn’t chaos like the room I’m working in.

I realize I need to hurry, and I grab an armful of random files from a few different shelves.

Dizzy with the adrenaline rushing through my system, I dart back into the hall.

My haste makes me clumsy, and I trip over my feet and bang into the doorframe of my file room, almost dropping the papers in my fight to stay upright.

Footsteps carry around the corner, and I shove myself into the room and fall against the door, panting.

Spywork isn’t my intended profession, if this disaster has taught me anything.

I wait with bated breath as the workers return to their job.

It’s illogical to worry that either of them would notice the missing files, but my anxiety isn’t listening to reason.

They go back to work without incident, though, and after my pulse calms, I click the lock on the handle.

I shove the stack of files into a shadowed shelf in the corner, keeping one in my hands as I drop into the chair.

Yor and Timothy is written across the tab, and a heavy weight of dread weighs in my stomach as I open the folder. So much of it doesn’t make sense as I read, but one word stands out, repeated over and over again on the page.

Mates.