by Brenda Drake
“Dude, you’re in trouble,” Nick whispered to me.
“Shut up,” I hiss-whispered back. “Why were you smirking, anyway?”
“Did you see them? Your pop likes librarians.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. I didn’t want to think about Pop and his possible fantasies. “Please stop. Besides, she’s not a real librarian. You do know that, right?”
He laughed. “Well, your pop forgot.”
I elbowed him. “I will cut you.”
“You could try.”
Pop scowled at us over his shoulder.
I couldn’t shake my bad mood. It had started that morning and just kept growing. And Nick’s teasing wasn’t helping.
At her desk, Kayla issued us library cards, then took us on a tour of the library.
She guided us to a room off the rotunda, with book stacks and a staircase leading to a balcony. “This is the reference room where I put the gateway book.” She pulled a familiar-looking leather-bound book from a case behind the stairs. “I’ll keep track of it, so it will be here whenever you need it.” She slipped it back into place. “There’s a quiet study area in the mezzanine. Follow me.”
She went up a staircase with Pop right behind her. Witnessing Pop check her out was more than uncomfortable. I glanced at Nick, and he was holding back a snicker.
Nick mouthed, “Nice butt.”
“Really?” I hissed at him, holding onto the wood railing as I climbed.
“Hey, what can I say,” he whispered through a smirk. “I’m a proponent of well-formed structures.”
“Is that right?” Kayla said from above us. “I’m always impressed when kids appreciate historical landmarks and architecture.”
“Oh, I appreciate it,” he said.
I rolled my eyes at him and stepped onto the landing. Directly off the stairs was a long desk. It was a circular space with tables against the curved wall, facing the many windows looking outside.
“You could make your jumps here if you want,” she said.
“This is a great spot,” I said.
“You’ll have to make sure it’s vacant before jumping.” She leaned toward us, lowering her voice. “The reason I summoned you today, was not only to familiarize you with the library but also to give you this.” She handed me a small silver box that resembled Pop’s old pager from the nineties that he kept in a junk drawer in our kitchen.
“What’s it for?” I turned it over in my hand. On one side, a crystal button stuck out in the center.
“Push the crystal when you need access to the library,” she said. “It will send an untraceable signal to its match, which I have. Once received, we’ll meet here within fifteen minutes.”
“What, no bat signals?” Nick said.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“It’s a spotlight. They point it at the sky to call—”
I stopped Nick with a sharp elbow in his side.
“Stop.” He shrugged away from me. “You’re always doing that.”
Miss Bagley gave him a curious look. “I don’t think a spotlight is a good idea. It would draw too much attention.”
Nick stifled a laugh, and Pop gave him a warning look.
“Anyway, for an emergency, hit it twice and it will flash red. Any questions?” she asked.
“Can’t think of any.” I glanced to Nick. “You?”
“No,” he said, amusement hanging in his voice.
She went to the stairs. “Shall we continue?”
“Lead the way,” Pop said in that swoony tone that was sure to make the movie popcorn I consumed earlier come up and be the feature presentation on the library floor.
“We’ll stop by my office on the way out,” she said, stepping off the last stair. “I’ll give you a brochure with the times of operation. Also, I’ll write down my cell number for non-emergencies.”
Pop stalked after her like a lost puppy. He hadn’t dated much. I think he worried about disrupting my life or something heroic like that. Maybe Miss Bagley would be a good thing for him. I wasn’t going to be around him forever, especially if I made it into New York University. It was time for Pop to find someone special.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
I gave him a sideways look. “You weren’t helping.”
“Come on,” he said. “It was cute. Your pop. Miss Bagley. I can see it now. A big wedding in a library.”
“Why do you have to be so irritating?”
Two girls about our age walked by. They could have been younger, but with all the makeup, revealing clothes, and expensive-looking accessories, it was hard to tell.
“We should catch up to Pop and Miss Bagley,” Nick said, trailing off.
“You’re hopeless,” I said to his back.
“I prefer the athletic type to pompous peacocks like them,” Arik’s voice came from the other side of a bookcase.
I gasped and reeled around. Every whisper and soft footstep in the library quieted, and all I could hear was my pulse, quick and loud in my ears. The bookcase between us blocked my view of him, except for his lopsided smile and his almost perfect teeth.
Am I dreaming?
I took a step forward and placed a nervous hand on the top of the books lining the shelf.
He grasped it.
“It is you,” I said.
Chapter Two
I darted around the bookcase. “Pompous peacocks are males,” I said, a little breathless, but not from exertion. Arik leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, with a mischievous grin pulling across his beautiful face. His brown hair was longer than he normally wore it. A loose strand hung over one of his heavy brows.
It was strange to think of Arik as my boyfriend. I thought I’d lost him after he was seriously injured jumping into a library to stop Conemar from hurting Afton. He’d landed head first on the marble floor. He’d been unconscious for a week, and I worried he would die. But he’d pulled out of it, and we’ve been together ever since.
“Details,” he said, his dark eyes watching me intently.
“Well, if you’re going to insult someone,” I whispered, “you should get it right.” I took a few uncertain steps forward. I wanted to throw myself at him, but I kept calm. “Females are peahens and not colorful at all. They’re more like me.”
“Then I shall be quite happy with my peahen.” He met my steps. We were so close I could smell him—woodsy and freshly showered. He pulled me to him, and I tilted my face up to meet his lips. I’d missed their softness. My fingertips glided across his chest and he shivered. Before I knew it, he had backed me up against a shelf and the case rocked, the wooden edge digging into my lower back, reminding me we were in the library. And Pop and Nick were just down the hall with Miss Bagley. I pushed him away.
“What are you doing here?” I glanced at the entrance to make sure no one was around.
Amusement lit his eyes. “I like how you respond to my kisses.”
My cheeks warmed. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I just arrived a few hours ago, and thought I’d pop over and see you.” He tugged me back into his arms and kissed my neck. “We’re not officially to meet until my first day of school, and Monday morning seems like an eternity away.”
“How’d you know we were here?”
“Your cell phone has a tracking device. Carrig knows both your and Deidre’s whereabouts at all times.”
I wondered if Carrig was doing that because he was the leader of the Sentinels or because he was trying to be a good father. The thing was, I had a father. Maybe Pop wasn’t biological like Carrig, but that didn’t matter to me. Pop was the only father I’d known. And honestly, Carrig was growing on me, but I just didn’t want him stepping on Pop’s territory.
“Wonderful,” I said. “I already feel like a prisoner here. Now they’re monitoring me?”
“It’s only for your protection.”
I darted another glance behind me. “I’d better catch up to the others.” Though I ha
ted that we had to pretend we didn’t know each other, I understood the reason. It might raise suspicion with the people in town that my and Nick’s families, not to mention the Sentinels at the Academy, knew one another before coming to Branford. There was no telling which residents could be Mystiks masking their forms with glamour or concealing their magical abilities while living among the humans. We couldn’t risk it. Any one of them could have ties to Conemar.
“I will agonize until then,” he said and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll wait here until all’s clear.”
“I’ll see you Monday.” I walked off with a spring in my step, peeking over my shoulder several times to catch a few final glimpses of Arik. I blew him an air kiss. An air kiss. I wanted to kick myself, but then Arik caught the invisible token and touched his fingers to his lips. I chuckled and ducked around the corner.
“What’s up with you?” Nick asked, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re never this happy unless—”
“Nothing.” I gave him a warning look as I yanked open the door leading outside. “I just love libraries.”
“Thank you again, Miss Bagley,” Pop said, holding the door open, his awkward smile back.
Her lips slowly pulled into a smile as she held Pop’s stare. “Uh-uh, it’s Kayla, remember?”
Pop rubbed his forehead. It was a sure sign he was nervous. “How could I forget? Listen, I’d love to take you for coffee sometime.”
“It’s a date.” She’d said it like slow-moving molasses—sweet and drawn out.
Deciding I was over watching Pop swoon all over Kayla, I bounded down the steps.
“Hey, slow down,” Nick called after me.
I stopped beside his motorcycle.
“So you can hitch a ride with your pop, right?” He swung a leg over the seat. “Cause while you were chilling in the book stacks, Deidre sent me a text asking me to meet her and Emily for dinner.”
“Happy to.” And it was the truth, because I’d ride a Billy Goat before getting on his bike again. “Catch you tomorrow.”
He raised a leather-gloved hand and sped off, smoke spurting out his muffler.
The entire ride home, Pop gushed about how amazing Miss Bagley was while I stared out the window. When he stopped the Volvo in the driveway, I scrambled out and half jogged to the door. The scent of something odd coming from the kitchen almost knocked me over.
“What’s that smell?” Pop asked, closing the front door.
“Faith must be cooking again.” We had a new mission in life: one of us tried to get to the kitchen before Faith had a chance to. Being a Laniar, she was used to only eating raw meat. After discovering human cuisine, she gained a passion for cooking…and a few extra pounds.
Though assigned to protect our home, Faith was more of a friend than a guard, and we hung out a lot. Or at least, we did when one of us wasn’t sleeping. It sucked that Laniars slept during the day. It only gave us a few hours together at night before I went to bed. With her odd appearance—a Mystik creature that looked like a human-greyhound cross with long limbs and a wide chest—she had to hide from our new neighbors. Which meant we spent most of our time in the attic we’d converted into a living space for her.
I peered around the doorframe of the kitchen. Steam rose from a pot on the stove and something sizzled in a frying pan.
“What are you cooking?” I asked, not wanting to enter.
Pop squeezed past me. “Smells…interesting.”
“Oh wonderful, you’re home.” She flipped something in the pan. “Peanut butter fish with lemon noodles.”
My stomach churned. “Um, remember? I don’t like fish?”
“Drat. I forgot.” She stared at the fish sizzling in the pan. “I’ve made too much. Where’re Deidre and Nick? They’ll eat some.”
“They went out to dinner.”
Pop was reading a text with a wide smile on his face.
“You never get texts,” I said, finally entering the kitchen of doom. “Actually, I didn’t even know you knew how. Who sent it?”
“Kayla. She can make coffee tomorrow.”
Faith sighed. “I just hate wasting food.”
“Don’t worry, Faith. Pop loves fish. He’ll eat my serving.”
He shot me a what-are-you-saying look.
I grinned widely at him and sat down at one of the place settings at the table. If Faith couldn’t cook, she could definitely set a fancy table. She placed a plate in front of me with the lemon pasta and a burnt roll. Pop’s plate had two grayish-looking fish, their heads attached and their eyes murky and dead, with melted peanut butter oozing out of their chest cavities.
“Bon appétit,” Faith chirped, and walked off to get herself a plate.
I stabbed some pasta with my fork. “Hey, maybe your new girlfriend can hook Faith up with some cookbooks?” I shoved a forkful of pasta into my mouth and crunched on it. Faith’s version of al dente was on the brittle side.
“Funny.” Pop removed some bones from his fish.
Faith plopped down in a chair across from me and took a big bite of fish. Her eyes widened.
I laughed at her expression. “Takeout?”
She nodded exaggeratedly, spitting her mouthful onto her plate. Obviously, she was in need of a Miss Manners class.
The front door flew open and banged shut. Deidre pounded up the stairs and slammed the door to our bedroom.
The three of us just sat there, waiting for the other ones to make a move.
Pop looked at me. “Maybe you should go check on her?”
“Uh-uh, not me. She hates me.”
“And she definitely doesn’t like me,” Faith added before Pop could ask her.
Pop scooted his chair out. “It’s because you alienate her. You could include her once in a while, you know?” He plodded off upstairs after her.
Faith and I stared at each other, stunned.
“He’s got it all wrong,” I said. “How many times have we invited her to do things?”
Faith raised her eyes to the ceiling, thinking.
“That was a rhetorical question. You don’t have to actually figure out a number.”
“Oh, then, it’s too many times to count,” she said. “So what shall we order for dinner? Chinese?”
“Definitely.”
The doorbell rang, and when I opened the door, I was surprised to find Mrs. D’Marco standing there wringing her hands. Worry hung on her face and she had dark circles under her golden brown eyes. I hadn’t really seen her much since finding out she and Mr. D’Marco had adopted Nick. They’d even hidden it from their son, and Nick wasn’t handling the news too well.
“Is Nick here?” she asked, worry lacing her words.
“No.” I opened the door wider. “Please, come in.”
She took a few steps forward but didn’t come fully inside.
“What’s wrong?” I pressed.
Her eyes darted around the entry and up the stairs. “He came home angry. He punched the wall. His father yelled at him, and he took off on that…that bike.”
I grasped her shaking hands. “It’ll be all right. He’s just going through a lot.”
“I know. I just worry he’ll hurt himself.” She sniffled. “Maybe Deidre knows something? Is she here?”
“I’m here,” Deidre said from top of the stairs. “We fought. All I said was that he resembled his biological father. He blew up in front of Emily. We didn’t even make it into the restaurant. It was so humiliating.”
What the hell? Of course Nick wouldn’t want to look like Conemar. The man was evil. He had killed Nick’s birth mother. Nick hated him. Deidre lacked a sensitivity chip. I was about to tell her just that, but her eyes were puffy and red, so I decided against it. “Do you know where he went?” I asked instead.
“When he gets like this, he goes to Stony Creek Beach.” Deidre looked directly at Mrs. D’Marco. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, dear,” Mrs. D’Marco said. “He just needs time to adjust to everything.”
&
nbsp; “So who knows how to get to this beach?” I asked.
“I’ll drive you,” Emily’s voice came from the porch.
I spun around. “Where did you come from?”
“My car. I was worried about Deidre. She left her sweater behind.” She held up Deidre’s loose-knit black sweater that couldn’t possibly offer any kind of warmth.
“Okay, but I’ve seen how fast you drive down our street. Could you not kill us, please?”
“I don’t drive fast,” she said.
She totally did. When we first moved here, we drove up with the moving van, and she sped by us as if she were on a racetrack.
“Don’t listen to her, Emily,” Deidre called down. “If you don’t drive five under the speed limit, she gets nervous.”
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Come on, Emily.” I headed down the sidewalk for her car. “Mrs. D’Marco, we’ll get him home soon.”
“Thank you, and thanks, Deidre.” Mrs. D’Marco followed us down the sidewalk to her car.
Emily guided her white Civic down our street a lot slower than she normally drove. “Nick and Deidre are pretty hot for each other.”
“Yeah…I suppose so.”
She raised an eyebrow, easing the car around a corner. “I’ve never experienced that kind of passion before.” Oncoming headlights lit up her teal-colored eyes. “Who’s the lady living with you guys?”
“My aunt.”
“How come she never comes out?”
“She has a skin condition. It’s rare.”
“What’s it called?”
What is up with all the questions?
“It’s Xeroderma Pigmentosum.” I stumbled on the pronunciation.
“Oh, that does sound bad.” Another car passed, illuminating the inside of the car. “Your family seems close. I can sort of see you having dinner from our kitchen window.” Her head snapped in my direction. “It’s not what you think. I’m not a stalker, I swear. I can’t really see you all that well. Your house is too far away.”
I grasped the grip handle above the door. “Eyes on the road.”
I sound like Nana. Ever since my mom died while saving me from traffic when I was four, driving and crossing busy streets scared the crap out of me.
She smiled and returned her attention to her driving. “Anyway, you all have fun. Meals at my home are too quiet and boring. My uncle doesn’t talk much or play board games like your family does.”
