Glamour [Book 1] (Completed)

Chapter 2 | Book Bound

Chapter 2

My fingers lace together as I wait patiently for my mother to come back over to where I sit on the couch. When she does enter the living room, a waft of Black Opium perfume gravitates to my awaiting form.

"Eris. You're ready to go?" She seems surprised that I had gotten up so early, though, I admit, my mind was ready to go to the library and my body was physically exhausted from the company we had over the night before.

Our Coven had stayed for dinner last night, and I had begun to feed a sinking feeling that they were all talking about me. I was turning seventeen; I had a year's worth of time, a small interlude, before I take the spot as the leader of my coven: The Sangre Coven.

I had been eating a piece of broccoli during dinner, and Noni had mentioned something about a boy, one single boy at the grocery store, and the entire table of old hags and men were pointing fingers and gasping. I would have to be matched sooner or later with a mate. Where I come from the family chooses suitable candidates for my heart and I get to pick and choose.

Everyone was asleep still; separated into the three guest rooms that each contained conjoining beds for our guests. This left time for my mother and I to escape the house for a moment and visit our local library.

Double-checking that I had my library card and a couple dollars worth of cash in my chocolate-stained cream-colored satchel, I sigh: "Ready."

We headed out the front door, locking it, and slipping into our modern blue farmer's truck. It wasn't anything special: a thin coat of old paint on a new body, slick and shiny with a little bit of a bust. With blunt ends and greased carvings, it was a spectacle of sorts.

We head down the road, my mother's hands gripped around the leathered black wheel of the truck, her knuckles morphing into a sickly white. Her sunglasses reflect the sunrise in the east: the direction toward the center of our town in Greyden, Nevada.

"You know, we have to start finding you a job." My mother splits the silence open: making the truck feel tighter than it already was.

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from seething in a breath: to stop my body from mocking her unsatisfied tone. I swallow the pit, and turn to face the passenger window to my right. "Do you have any idea where I could work?"

"No." She replies disdainfully, "But I think we can get you an easy job here in town with minimum wage."

I'm a powerful witch and I still have to worry about work.

Thanks mom.

I roll my eyes, making sure my eyelids were shut, before opening my eyes and watching numerous cars pass by. My head rests on my gray seatbelt- making a nice pillow out of it. The weight of my eyelashes became immense as they drag my eyelids down over my solid green eyes. My brain was working to stay alert, but just one night with old people was enough for me to stay up all night.

Our family has problems when it comes to sleeping in the middle of the night. No, I don't mean to say that they fart every twenty minutes- though I would not be surprised...

"Eris. Get up. We're here." My mother doesn't bother to shake my arm to get me up and, instead, hops out of the car without any other thought: slamming the door in her wake.

Our town library was a large and old brick building with white pillars to hold the second story above. No graffiti had infected the walls of our hometown so it was always cleaned up pretty nicely. The glass doors hissed open automatically when we entered a range of three feet, lending us passage into the large building. As old and damaged as it looked from the outside- the inside was quiet and empty. The only thing that looked normal were the stacks and stacks of bookshelves divided into different categories: Fiction, Children, Teen Fiction, Nonfiction, Science Fiction, Romance, Dark Romance, and down toward the back of the library, next to the front counter, is a metal-barred door. This door was used back in the day for witches, such as us, to hide our belongings from humans (i.e. Books, vials, or even our children).