The Deathsniffer’s Assistant (The Faraday Files Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

do
    dressed in dark trousers dark coat light blue waistcoat white shirt black shoes hats are in style now but don’t suit shape of my face only wear occasionally
    The words poured out of his head and onto the page in scarcely more than the time it took to blink.
    have Rosemary’s eyes blue deep both got them from Mother
    got most of my looks from Mother, hair color face fine wavy hair eyes and Gods I mi
    It was harder than he thought it would be to put together a fair, comprehensive description of himself without delving into thoughts and pouring out feelings. It was all too close to old hurts and personal observations. He sharpened the edge, cut it down to just the image. Just the image in the mirror.
    cleanshaven high cheekbones barelyvisible adam’s apple slender build short side of average high collar hair cut short combed down look always striving for the right image. nice coats nice pants nice shoes I always try to have nice shoes ohGods in the heavens thenannys shoeswere so awful I thoughtid
    He broke away from the page, a flush spreading across his cheeks. Olivia was hunched over his shoulder, staring with interest down at the words. She turned her eyes over to him when she realized he was done, raising her eyebrows slightly. Their faces were very close together. “All done?” she asked.
    “Yes,” he murmured.
    “Now that
is
a crying shame,” she said, and drew back from him, plucking the book from his hands as she did so. “I was
so
curious where you were going with that.”
    His ears burned.
    She slid the book onto the surface of the desk and closed it after another moment of study. The whole transcription had taken less than ten seconds, and he’d completely filled a page.
That
had to have impressed her. Her hand lay flat on the cover, then her fingers steepled so it looked like a spider crouched there. She had lovely fingers, like a flutist or a pianist.
    “It’s a full time position,” she said finally, seeming to forget the book. “Be here at this time
every
weekday. You’ll be home for dinner, usually, but it could be later. No complaining.” She continued to move as she spoke, going back around the desk, dropping into the chair. “Some days, you’ll be behind a desk. You’ll welcome guests to the office, receive the post, collect the paper, do piles and piles of boring paperwork. That’s between cases. But when one comes…well. This
isn’t
a job that leaves you in the office. Oh, you should be so lucky.” The pen was in her hands again, but she wasn’t writing. Instead she was spinning it about with two fingers, juggling it like a fool at a circus. “You’ll be following a Deathsniffer around, smelling more death than you can handle and getting every detail of every horrible, horrible thing you see down on paper. You understand all of that…don’t you?”
    “Yes,” he said quickly.
    She focused her attention fully on him, then, the pen stilling. “You’re
sure
?” she asked severely. “It’s something you might want to take a minute to think about, instead of just jumping into.” Her expression went mocking. “After all…you’re climbing into bed with death, Mister Buckley.”
    He wondered if this woman had been bright and cheerful and innocent before coming to work for O. Faraday, Deathsniffer, instead of this twisted, arch, difficult to touch creature who didn’t seem to notice the strange environment she spent her days in. He wondered if he would be like her in a year, maybe two. Would his smile set people on edge? Would every word be a strange barb? He wondered if he could really afford to bring that home to Rosemary.
    And then he had to bottle up a hysterical bout of laughter. Could he really afford not to? The money
was
running out. It was an exhaustible source, and it would be exhausted very, very soon. Fernand had been perfectly clear, and he’d never been wrong before. Their grace period was coming to an end, hard times were ahead, and Chris needed this