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“Oi gevalt…” A hot flush spread over my cheeks before cold chased after it, and I really didn’t like how the light fixtures looked from that angle.

“Well, that answers my question from earlier.” Zeke’s snort of laughter was the last I heard before I drifted off.

Chapter Ten

Zeke

I stared down at the prone form of my new coworker. “Well, he’s cute at least.”

Isa glared at me. “Ville didn’t teach him a fucking thing before he sent him down. Asshole.”

“I don’t think he would have come if he knew what he was.” I squatted down next to Lex and searched the drawers for the first aid kit.

“We don’t even know what he is.” She threw her hands up.

“He’s an archivist,” I said, tilting my head at his peaceful face. An eyelid fluttered.

“Well, yes. Ville knew that much.” She peered down. “I knew just from how he typed that he wasn’t an inscriptor like myself.”

I dug through the contents of the box and broke a little tube labeled smelling salts as ammonia assaulted my senses. I waved it under his nose and watched him shirk away from the scent, batting me back as he roused. “Wakey, wakey.”

“Fuck. I—” He glanced up at us, from Isa to myself. His flushed face paled and I reached to hook an arm behind his head.

“Hey! No fainting!”

“What the fuck are you?” He shook his head a little before sitting fully up and holding his head in his hand.

“Human.” I pointed at myself then pointed at Isa. “Former human.”

She pursed her lips.

“A ghost?” He scooted away from us, backing into a drawer, those pretty blue-green eyes wide and pupils pinpricks.

“No. I’m an inscriptor. The things I write hold essence and power. Thus, my journal is my ghost.” She gestured at the book and grabbed a chunk of pages, flipping it back as she flickered, reappearing in similar but different clothing and a much younger face. “I’m basically a book.”

“Ah.” He shook his head, stifling a half-lucid giggle. “I suppose you’re a sapphic novel, then?”

I covered my mouth to hide a snort of laughter.

“Don’t push it.” She rolled her eyes and brushed an auburn strand of hair back behind her ear. She’d been quite lovely in her younger years.

“So, what are you?” He pointed at me.

“Capricorn.” I flicked a brow before standing. “Archivist, if you must know. Just like you.”

“Do I get my letter to the magic school by owl?” He rubbed a hand over his soft curls; hair tied back into a fluffy ponytail that I wanted to squeeze and pet. But I’d had enough people touching on my hair without permission to last me a lifetime, and I knew damn well better.

“You got it via email. Remember?” Isa crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter.

“Holy shit…” He stared at his hands and then glanced up and around. “Any chance I can just… Ignore all the—”

“Nope.” The emphasis I put on that one syllable made him cringe.

“So why am I really here?”

“Literally in your job description. Put the books away, et cetera. On the job training… Mostly to keep an eye on you as you develop, so to speak.” I reached out to shake his foot to make sure he was staying with it.

“Fuck me.” He slammed his head back against a drawer a tiny bit harder than necessary.