Henri Beck & the Hidden Library | 📖

4

Before following Thea into their family mansion, Henri attempted to offer Malik some sort of compensation. The boy wasn't having it, though. Either he truly had a good heart, or he really didn't like money.

Either way, Henri couldn't seem to understand him. He could tell there were things hiding within the boy's warm eyes and his beautiful, dark skin. It only made him want to dive deeper, like a doomed sailor ensnared by a siren's call. Murky thoughts flooded his cerebellum. Clenching his jaw, he forced them down. Now wasn't the time for that. He needed to find a way into his father's study. He needed to find answers.

Before he left Malik in the driveway, Henri thanked him.

The other boy fiddled with one of his locs. "I guess this is it then," he said, his voice low. If Henri didn't know any better, he would've mistaken his tone as somber. Maybe even a little sad.

Surely, he wasn't, though. Tonight had been a nightmare. Malik probably couldn't wait to get back home to his family.

"This is it," Henri repeated. The wind whistled past him, infiltrating his damp suit, and chilling him to the bone. To keep himself from shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his arms. He glanced over his shoulder at Thea, who'd just unlocked the front doors to their home and stepped inside. He reluctantly turned back to Malik. "You sure there's nothing we can do to pay you back?"

Malik smiled and shook his head. "Nah, man. We're good." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Tonight's not the first time I've been shot at. Besides, I got to meet you...and Thea." He tacked that last part on as if it were an extra piece to a haphazardly made science project. "I'd consider us even."

Henri suddenly wasn't cold anymore.

"Take care, Malik," he said, offering the other boy a smile of his own.

He simply nodded. "You too, Henri Beck."

Face redder than a gleaming ruby, Henri turned and practically ran inside.

#

"Did you get his number?" Thea asked while walking up the curved staircase leading to the second story of the mansion.

Henri's face was still burning from his interaction outside. Gritting his teeth, he ignored his sister and made his way toward the hallway that housed the entrance to the attic.

Upon entering the house, he shedded his suit jacket and dress shirt, leaving him just in a white tank top and his black pants. Thea turned on the heater, and in a matter of seconds, blissful warmth spread throughout their massive home. It curled around his limbs and replaced the frost creeping through him.

As he and Thea walked down the hall, he took a moment to study the walls as if he'd forgotten them. He couldn't have even if he wanted to, but even his potent memories were nothing like the real thing.

Birch wood panels ran up a third of the wall, allowing the stark white wallpaper to eat up the rest. Metal light fixtures covered by rounded ceramic domes protruded from the walls, illuminating the corridors in warm, orange hues. Hand-woven carpets depicting various monumental points in history decorated the mahogany hardwood beneath their feet. Henri and Thea were currently crossing over the pilgrim's arrival on Plymouth Rock via the Mayflower. The carpet in the hall that held Henri's old bedroom portrayed a battle from the Trojan War—Henri's favorite war.

But not because of the fighting or anything. Growing up, he had a massive crush on Paris of Troy. He had a penchant for developing crushes for men from myths and legends. After Paris, his next love was Hyacinthus, the mortal whom Apollo fell in love with.

He used to wish the Greek god of the sun would come to him and profess his love. Alas, it never happened.

"So," Thea said, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts, "how're you getting into Dad's study? Like I said before, he put a lock on the door and only he knows the password."