The Book Waitress (Book 1, The Book Waitress Series) by Deena Remiel

stopped. At the bottom of the page was a chart of symbols and objects to help identify the sacrificial child and carry out the ritual.
    Satan’s Saber had a leather-wrapped hilt and a silver, curved blade about eight inches long. The Demon’s Chalice appeared to stand about a foot tall and had encrusted jewels around the goblet and stem . And then she glanced at the Mark of the Damned.
    Her blood ran cold .

Chapter Six
     
    Derek returned to the leather bench and stared, imagining the worst and knew it could have been beyond that. Camille had every right to be freaked out. Evil existed in the world, and here sat a prime example of how inhumane a person or people could be.
    Deciding to explore the basement in an organized fashion, he started at one wall and methodic ally examined everything until r eaching the other , snaking his way back again . No more blood was found on the floor underneath or around the seat , so it must have been used elsewhere and stored here. Noth ing else of interest lay hidden anywhere, and the black light didn’t reveal anything more either.
    “Time to close up shop.” It was well past midnight and Camille hadn’t come down to ask him to leave yet. The treatment she’d been getting by her co-workers perplexed him, j ust as his feelings for her did, too. She moved him beyond distraction, but obviously , she had no interest in him . She’d given him the royal brush off upstairs. But maybe that was just her defense system at work. Maybe she liked him but didn’t know how to show it.
    He knew they were both misfits in a plastic society . She hid behind her books, like he hid behind his reporting. He somehow needed to create a strong connection between them so he could ask to see her again. Even if she left the island. He wouldn’t be on it forever. He had a real home, with land. He didn’t roam through his life like other investigative reporters. He liked his roots planted firmly in the ground.
    Putting his equipment away, he heard footsteps on the stairs. He peered up and saw Camille, ghostly white, holding a book close to her chest. He immediately stood up and hurried over to her.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She looked at him, shock in her gaze, and offered the book to him with trembling hands . “Turn to page 336.”
    “Okay, but maybe we should go back upstairs first.”
    “Turn to the page!” He flinched as her words set off tiny pin pricks along his arms. Something had definitely pushed her over the edge. He countered her manic mood with calm.
    “Okay, Camille, I’ll do it.” He looked at the cover first- The Devil’s Handbook . This can ’t be good, he thought ominously . He turned to the requested page and found a table of photographs and descriptions of each item photographed.
    “ These are all items to be used in a sa crifice. This is great! Camille, t hank you. This will really help me narrow down what I’m looking for.”
    “L … l ook at how a person is ide ntified as a sacrificial lamb.”
    He did. “The person has to have something called a Mark of the Damned. Awesome! So, now I can interview the parents of the missing and ask if their kids had a mark like this. You’re amazing. This is a huge lead for me. I can’t begin to tell you.”
    “ Derek, l ook. ” She unbuttoned the top of her blouse.
    “Whoa! What are you doing?”
    “Look! ” She unbuttoned one more and spread her collar wide.
    Just below her collarbone and above the swell of her left breast, was a birthmark. Pale brown in color, its shape stunned him.
    “Camille… . ”
    “I know.”
    “It looks just like —”
    “I know , damn it !” She grabbed the book away from him and tossed it to the floor. “I’m sorry.” She placed both hands on her mouth as if to quiet herself.
    He picked up the book and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come back upstairs with me. We’ll talk. We’ll sort it all out. Okay?”
    She didn’t answer, but she didn’t fight him either when he gently turned her