Which book have you owned the longest


Title: Obsessed
Authors: Jennifer Armintrout
until they found out and killed him. But he kept in touch with Max Harrison, the only vampire who knew about Nathan and me.
I smiled. "I am sure that this task delighted him."
"Max has no choice," Nathan said happily. He made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed making Max's life hell. “Well, the sun has long since set, I'd better go downstairs and earn my bread. Are you coming to work tonight There have been new books that have to be included. "
“As seductive as it sounds, no.” I had already served enough unpaid hours in Nathan's esoteric bookstore to fill several lives with it. I could do without sorting out the latest Book of Shadows or any bundle of herbs. I pointed to the computer. "I have to finish this before it drives me crazy."
"And me first." Nathan grimaced. "If you ever want to do crazy experiments again, look for someone else as a laboratory rat."
I heard the door slam as he left. He usually locked it, but I didn't hear a key sound.
Vampires take the bond between the creator and his pupil just as seriously as humans take the relationship between parents and their child. Nathan was usually anxious and overly cautious about my protection. I tried to shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Such thoughts are like spider bites: once you've scratched, the area becomes infected and the poisoning spreads. I didn't need a night on hot needles where I kept jumping up at the slightest noise.
I turned on the monitor, hoping medical terminology would give me other thoughts, but I couldn't concentrate. My discomfort grew, my palms became wet, and I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach. I ticked off the symptoms in my head and only then recognized the physical signs of flight-or-fight syndrome.
Fight or flee.
That age-old response to fear had slowly built up inside me, but I wasn't in immediate danger. My heart pounded in my chest in panic as I stared into my reflection behind the words on the screen. My pupils were dilated. My face started to twist into a monster grimace. I got up and forced myself to calm down. There was no reason to feel that way.
Unless the cause was the blood tie.
As if stung by a tarantula, I ran out of the room, knocking the office chair over. Our apartment was on the top floor of Nathan's house. The bookstore was in the basement. I raced down the steps as fast as I could, catching myself on the railing as my feet became tangled. The door on the ground floor seemed light years away. I rushed through and into the street. The cool air of the spring night took my breath away.
Then the pain came and I forgot to breathe.
The blood tie was gone. It wasn't like Nathan shielded his thoughts from me. It always felt like a wall. But this was ... total emptiness. Usually the blood tie was stretched between us like a taut line, but now one end just hung limply.
Nathan was dead.
I grabbed the wrought iron railing and slowly moved toward the top of the stairs that led down from the sidewalk into the shop. Glass on the floor shattered by moonlight. Whatever Nathan had gotten got in through a broken window.
Get a gun. Get help. But my heart was stronger than my mind. I had to go to my creator.
In addition to fear, I rushed down, taking two steps at a time. In the back of the shop a light flickered as if in agony. Fluorescent remnants of the powdered fluorescent tubes were scattered over the floor. Here and there, blown cables sprayed sparks from the ceiling like snowflakes.
The tables, on which crystals, tarot cards and similar New Age stuff were usually stylishly presented, were completely destroyed. They lay splintered on the ground and buried the goods they had carried. The showcase in the counter was smashed to my right. I knew Nathan had an ax on the shelf behind it