Read Online Witches of East End by Melissa de La Cruz - Free Book Online Page B

and truly he did not need a summer internship shelving books. The other librarians joked that he was the world’s oldest (he’d just turned thirty) and best-dressed intern; his suits alone cost more than their entire wardrobes. He was exacting in his work and moved very deliberately. One could not imagine Hudson running, for instance, or hurrying for any reason, or perspiring. He was a natural dilettante, with a breadth of knowledge on many subjects concerning the humanities and the arts, as well as a seasoned world traveler. Hudson was the one to ask if you needed to know, say, the price of a Ruscha lithograph, where to find the best tapas in Madrid, and whom to call if your hotel in Cairo suddenly “lost” your prepaid reservation. He had “fixers” and a network of acquaintances around the globe and happened to be one of Ingrid’s best friends, as they shared a love for theater, opera, and classical music.
    “Do excuse me, allergies are bad this year,” Hudson said, wiping his nose and coughing. “Well, don’t keep the gentleman caller waiting. Someone else might snatch him up.”
    For a moment Ingrid thought Hudson was talking about Matt Noble, and she felt irritated that the detective had come back so soon. Surely he couldn’t be done with that thousand-page book yet? But when she walked to the front desk the man waiting for her was not Matt.
    Killian Gardiner was leaning against the main desk. His gray T-shirt was pocky with holes and his jeans were slung low on his hips. Even in the heat, he was wearing a black motorcycle jacket. He looked like a movie star, with the gold-trimmed aviator shades and the five o’clock shadow. No, not a movie star. Like an icon. He had the kind of face that should be plastered on posters in every teen girl’s bedroom. When he saw her he took off his sunglasses and pecked her on the cheek.
    “Hi, Killian,” she said, trying to inject some warmth into her voice. Something about the younger Gardiner brother put her on edge. It wasn’t just that he was spectacularly good-looking; as a rule, Ingrid was skeptical and hostile toward pretty men—she found them vain and self-assured and selfish. Blake Aland had pretty much confirmed the fact on their first and only date. She preferred homely guys; not that Matt Noble was homely—far from it—which was probably why she felt annoyed with him, since she liked him despite his looks. Handsome men took female adoration as their due, and Ingrid did not take to people who assumed too much.
    Killian Gardiner was a vain peacock, and it was clear he knew exactly how good he looked, with that dark hair that fell over his eyes just so, and that lean, ripped body underneath the worn T-shirt and battered jeans. She could see the carved V shape of his hip muscles jutting above his waistband. When they had met at the party she had asked him what he did, and he’d been purposefully vague. Later she found out it was because he didn’t seem to do much of anything. She heard that Killian was a fly-by-night, that he moved with the seasons, he’d run a scuba-diving boat off the coast of Australia, worked as a galley chef on an Alaskan freighter. There were other rumors: that he’d gotten a girl pregnant, that he’d been in jail, that he was a drug addict. Whether they were true or not, Ingrid knew that a man that beautiful was definitely Bad News and she didn’t expect to hear anything that proved otherwise.
    “I thought you had left town already,” she said. Hadn’t Killian seemed bored and preoccupied at the party? “How can I help you?”
    “Actually I’m helping you,” he said, picking up an extra-large L.L. Bean tote bag and setting it on the table. In the bag were several rolled-up blueprints. “I overheard you asking Bran for them at the engagement party, and I thought I’d drop them off this morning.”
    “Oh—that’s so nice! I didn’t expect to get them so quickly! Bran said he had to get back to me—he wasn’t sure