Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) Read Online Free PDF Page A

making room for Volume 9 of the Encyclopedia Britannica. Who even uses these anymore? I stretched my arms as far as they could reach and tilted the book forward into its spot.
    Out of nowhere, a pair of hands grabbed me by the waist and pulled. I screamed and then rammed my elbow into the body behind me, sending us both flailing to the ground. 
    “Ow, what gives? It’s just me.”
    I lifted my head up off the wall of steel pecs beneath me and looked back to find Ian in a fit of laughter. He flashed me his killer smile and let his hands wander up the side of my body. I rolled off him and jumped to my feet, ignoring the hotness sprawled before me on the floor and went on to adjust the hem of my shirt, trying to hide the flush on my face as best as I could. 
    “What are you doing here?” I said.
    “I could ask you the same.” His voice casual, the smile still on his face. 
    “That’s not an answer.” I leaned on the trolley, pushed off  and made my way down the narrow corridor until I was back at the elevator. I pressed my index finger on the down button again and again, knowing full well that it wasn’t getting here any sooner, no matter how hard I willed it. The building hadn’t been renovated since the sixties and that meant the lift that serviced the two-level drab structure moved at a snail’s pace. Ian was soon by my side.
    “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
    My expression hardened. “Listen,” I started, “I’m really busy now. If you need any help, Ms. Halle’s downstairs.” 
    When the steel door opened, I stepped right in.
    Please don’t follow me.
    But he did.
    “Look, can we start over? If I upset you in any way, I’m sorry,” he said, shifting from one foot to the next. 
    “You know September in upstate New York is a bit brisk for shorts,” I said with a smile.
    “I’m going to take that as apology accepted.” 
    He smelled good. Not like too many layers of body spray. There were hints of cinnamon coupled with layers of spice wafting through the air of the cramped space.
    “Who are you?” I couldn’t pretend to be angry any longer.
    “I dare you to find out.” He winked and I noticed how dark his lashes were against his light eyes and skin. This in turn sent my stomach doing flip-flops.
    We were back on the first floor and Ian helped me stow away the trolley. Ms. Halle was halfway through The Tale of Peter Rabbit , and the handful of children seated on the circle time rug were listening intently, while a few of the younger ones wandered around, never straying too far from their parents. Ms. Halle’s long silver hair swung down over her shoulder in a thick braid and she appeared content sitting on the floor, her feet tucked beneath her long denim skirt. 
    “This way,” I whispered and waved for Ian to follow. In the back room, boxes of new books were waiting to be catalogued, invading much of the space meant to be an employee break room. 
    “Let me just grab my bag and we can go.” I leaned over a stack of new best-sellers and pulled my tote out from my secret spot between the wall and the desk.
    “Where are we going?” 
    “You’re going to walk me home. That’s what guys around here do. And you had the serendipitous timing of scaring the hell out of me at the end of my shift so now I’m afraid to go alone,” I replied.
    As I grabbed my jacket from its hanger, there was a loud thud followed by terrified screams. “What was that?” Ian asked.
    “No idea.”
    What the hell was going on? I peered out, expecting to find a rational explanation for what was happening in the main room. Instead, Ms. Halle was standing on her desk with a blank look on her face and a rifle in her hands. The orange glow of the sunset filtering through the windows cast a sinister light on her as she reached into the delicate eyelet-trimmed front pocket of her blouse, opened the chamber of the gun and placed a large bullet inside. 
    Mothers were screaming as they scooped up their