City of Magic (Happily Ever Afterlife Book 1)

by Patricia Thomas

  While it wasn't a resounding vote of confidence, it was more than I hoped for. "Honestly, I'm probably too scatterbrained today to read much. Did you want any help?" I looked down at Eliza's overflowing cart of books.

  Eliza hesitated, but a slow smile eventually played onto her lips. "Technically, I'm supposed to do this myself. But for all intents and purposes, anyone can put a book anywhere they want. So, if you wanted to have a look at these babies, and maybe see where they fit in on the shelves alphabetically, I can't stop you."

  I grinned, so grateful for something to do.

  Shelving ended up being about as tedious as I'd imagined, and I probably slowed things down a little by checking the back cover of every book for any hint of a name I recognized. But it passed the time quickly.

  After emptying one cart and going back down to the warehouse to refill it, we ended up in the thriller section, shelving countless dark-covered titles, usually featuring knives or blood splatter. Not exactly my preferred reading material, but I made a mental note to double back if I got a chance later and at least check something out. The more I knew, the better prepared I would be.

  Eventually, I took a large stack of books whose authors names ended in R and left Eliza alone with those from the front end of the alphabet.

  We worked like that for a while, me coming back to refill my stack whenever I was empty-handed. But on my third trip, I found that Eliza wasn't alone.

  Jamie looked up as soon as I came up behind him. It took him a second, but I saw the exact moment when recognition flashed in his eyes. "Oh, I know you."

  I looked up to see Eliza watching us, and got a sharp flashback to Grayson scolding me for talking to this guy in the first place. He was Literati, or something. Something Grayson didn’t approve of.

  But if Eliza was under orders to report back anything I did that might be considered suspicious, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  "Hey," I said in response, doing my best to keep my tone frosty.

  Jamie's smile faltered at once. But he wasn't quite ready to give up. "Read any good books lately?"

  I shrugged. Once again, my gaze flicked to Eliza, which probably made me look guiltier than anything else. But I felt like a deer in headlights, unable to decide my next move, and seeing pitfalls with every opportunity.

  "Jamie here's a regular," Eliza said, her voice unreadable. "Usually tries to do us a solid and hand back his books in person once he’s done with them, rather than re-shelving titles he's not sure about, and potentially making a mess of things. It's hard enough to find specific titles already as it is. Alphabetical only works when random patrons don't get lazy and put books back wherever it’s most convenient once they decide they don't want to deal with them anymore."

  I forced a tight smile. "Fair enough."

  Jamie put down a small stack of books on Eliza's cart. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." He looked from Eliza to me and back again, looking more confused than anything. But I could remember all too vividly exactly how Grayson had responded the last time I’d seen this guy. Someone, somewhere, didn't trust him, and I had to think there was at least the possibility of a reason for that. And I didn't want any of that suspicion being transferred over to me.

  Once he was out of earshot, Eliza rounded on me. "What was that about?"

  Already, I was feeling like a jerk. Jamie hadn’t done anything wrong any more than I had. At least not to me. And I knew all too well what it was like to be treated like some sort of freak of nature for something completely out of my control. Now, he probably just thought I was a bitch. And he'd been more willing to talk to me than almost anyone else around here.

  It didn't seem like anything I could do would be the right answer, and I certainly didn't have a good one to give to Eliza.

  "I don't know, I'm probably just being paranoid. But Grayson got weird last time I was talking to Jamie, and I didn't want to mess things up any more than they already are."

  "Oh yeah, I get that. And Jamie's been under suspicion for a while now, though no one told me suspicion of what. But mostly, I think he’s just a guy who likes books. But I definitely don't pretend to know everything that goes on around here. Which is probably why I'm still here stacking books when everyone else is coming up with plans and testing theories. And well, he’s definitely a vampire, but I like to think the prejudice around is, at least, a little less than it used to be."

  "Wait. He’s a vampire?" I should have known! I spun around to look back in the direction Jamie had disappeared, but he was long gone. Eliza smiled, like she knew how excited I’d be at the idea. "Are you kidding?"

  "Nope. Definitely a vampire. I don’t know if he started that way, or he was turned since he got here, but for as long as he’s been coming around here, he’s a hundred percent undead."

  "How can you tell?" I whispered. The idea was exciting even though I knew that in theory, vampires were people I should probably be afraid of.

  At that, Eliza laughed out loud. "It’s not a secret. And the signs can be a little different depending on the specific strain, but the fangs are a pretty big giveaway."

  A memory of Jamie smiling at me from the couch flashed through my memory, but I had never even imagined that his teeth were used to... weird. "No way." Also, gross.

  "Yup. With a lot of people around here, who or what they are isn’t immediately noticeable, but you learn to pick these things up after a while. You’ll get there."

  "Cool." It was all I could come up with to say. Already I was excited about the idea of reporting back to Devon that I knew a vampire. Or, at least I had known one before I’d decided to be kind of a jerk to him for no real reason I could come up with. And then proceeded to give him the cold-shoulder when he might have been perfectly happy to let me pepper him with questions about life as a blood-sucking fiend.

  Yup, I’d definitely screwed that one up. Surprising no one.

  I promised myself that Literati or not, if I saw Jamie again, Grayson’s ideas about who I should and shouldn’t be talking to, weren’t going to get a vote.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The announcement came that night, Marissa’s voice booming throughout the cafeteria while I was doing my best to eat my BLT as quickly as I could so I could retreat back to my room. I’d been on the lookout for Marc all day, hoping to press him more about what we’d been talking about the day before, but there was still no sign of him.

  "Attention, librarians." I looked up, trying to find the source of the Heart’s voice. There was no sign of her, and no speakers above me. "As we are all aware, for some time now the Archive has been woefully behind on some of the tasks entrusted to those who work here. While some might argue that our falling behind is due to circumstances outside of our control, I feel differently. It is our sacred responsibility to keep this place running as smoothly as possible, so that it can continue to run our world. Today, we make a change. It's all hands-on deck between this very moment, and a time, hopefully not too far in the future, when we have finally shelved all our outstanding titles. All your other projects will be put on hold indefinitely, with only a few minor exceptions made for those in the protectorate, required to keep peace within the city. We will of course still be open to the public during this time, but we will be encouraging as many of our patrons as possible to come back at a more convenient time. Information that we desperately need is hidden within the pages of some of our yet to be catalogued titles. As soon as we find these titles, you can all get back to the daily routines that you know and love. But for now, I hope you all remember your time as apprentice librarians. Because it is that skill set that is going to get you through the next few days, or weeks. Whatever it takes to get this job done.

  "Please report to the heads of your order for further instructions. Those of you not yet pledged to a particular order, are likely among those who know best what to do next. Finish up whatever it is you're working on now, report to your nearest warehouse, and get to work. There is no room for cutting corners, and
each book will need to be properly cataloged within our system so that we can be alerted once the books we’re looking for turn up. Best of luck, and we'll see you on the other side."

  Everyone around me started talking amongst themselves at once, and it seemed as though the excitement of Marissa's announcement had made those sitting closest to me forget who exactly I was. The conversations mostly seemed to be complaints, no one wanting to go back to the days of shelving and listing titles. And after seeing what Eliza was currently working through, I couldn't blame them. But I also wasn't going to sit around and wait for them to remember that I was at least one of the causes of their newest headache. I finished my sandwich and slipped out of the room as quickly as possible, already feeling a few people watching me go.

  I got back to my room just as Marc made it back to his. "Hey. Where have you been?"

  Marc shrugged and looked away. "I've been hiding mostly. I didn't want to deal with people today."

  "I get that. But it sounds like there are going to be a whole lot more people here, and pretty soon."

  Devon looked up from the book he was reading. "All this excitement for little old us?"

  I pursed my lips, not sure exactly how I felt. It was finally dawning on me that the end result of what was happening now, with white robed librarians rushing through every corner of the library, was awkward, but it could also result in finally getting my hands on the book that I'd come from. I hadn't thought about it much in the last few days, my plan to distract myself working a little too well. I'd been going under the assumption that maybe I'd stumble across it eventually. But I admitted to myself now that this more proactive plan was a lot more likely to get real results.

  I could have that book in my hands by the next day. At least, if anyone would actually let me read it. I had to assume that there would be multiple librarians combing over it first, for any sign that I'd been lying about where I'd come from. But if that was the case, they’d probably know right away, and the end result would still be the same. I knew I hadn't seen magic for even a day in my life before coming to the After, and soon everyone else would know it too. And maybe Grayson would then stop looking at me like he thought I could be hiding something.

  The guys and I didn't say much else to each other that night, all wanting the privacy of our own thoughts as we waited to see what exactly this new search order would mean for us. Already, the building seemed louder, both with the reverberation of frantic footsteps through the halls and with excited voices talking to one another, if never to us.

  Whatever came next, I was going to need a good night’s sleep first.

  Devon was already awake by the time I left my room next morning. "He still in there?" I asked, looking over at Marc's door. I got up early that morning, unable to sleep a minute longer. I knew that no one would let me help look for my book. I shouldn’t have even been helping Eliza before, and now with all eyes on me there was no way I'd be able to get anywhere near anything. But I wanted to be there the moment that it happened. The moment that someone held my origin story up in the air, with a shout of triumph like he'd found a golden ticket.

  Devon nodded. He’d been a lot less chatty, a lot less happy ever since being locked away in his room. Not that I could blame him. But I had no idea what I could say to make what he was going through easier.

  I knocked on Marc's door, and a second later he came and opened it. "You're going out there today?" he asked.

  "Well, we’ve got to eat. And I kind of think that hiding out here is only going to make it look like we have something to, well, hide."

  Marc thought about that for a second and then nodded. Soon, he was out the door.

  "Is there anything we can bring you?" I asked, turning back to Devon one last time.

  "No," Devon said with an over-exaggerated sigh. "They're still bringing me food. And more books than I've ever wanted to deal with. But I'm fine."

  "Hey," Marc said. "They're going to find your story any day now, and then they'll know for sure that you weren't lying. You could go back to being a regular prisoner, rather than a super prisoner, any minute now."

  Devon raised his chin a little, and while he didn't smile I could tell that Marc's words were having the desired effect on him. At least one of us had known what to say. "Okay, keep me posted."

  Marc nodded, and I followed behind him like a hopeless puppy.

  We'd only made it a few feet out of sight of our rooms before someone opened the door in front of us, almost bumping right into me as they moved into the hallway. It was a female librarian I didn't recognize, with long dark hair down to her waist. She gave Marc and I a quick look and then hurried down the hallway.

  "I'd forgotten there were other rooms like ours," Marc said. "Ones that aren't being used as prison cells, that is."

  "Do you think there are more librarians staying here now?" I asked. Marc didn't have an answer.

  But my question was answered clearly enough as soon as we stepped out of the back rooms and out into the main library. Everywhere I looked were people in white robes, moving between the shelves either with carts of books, or simply carrying around large piles in their hands. Each one wore a white robe with inky scribblings. They were all librarians. It was hard to wrap my mind around such a dramatic shift in numbers.

  Marc and I kept mostly to the perimeter, well aware of how much we stood out in our jeans and T-shirts. But every single row of shelves we passed had at least one person standing in the aisle, all working away in near silence. Gone were the flurry of conversations from the day before. Now, the librarians meant business.

  And when Marissa said all hands on deck, she clearly hadn’t been kidding. Before that, I understood that most librarians didn't work within the stacks themselves. Some like Eliza had work to do shelving titles, or working with people who came into the building. But most had offices or workplaces tucked away from the bustle of daily operations.

  But there were so many of them. I couldn't tell just from looking at them who was in what order, but in that moment, they were all working as one on one central task.

  When we made it down to the lobby, not sure where else to go, I spotted Grayson talking to a few muscular looking women by the front desk. When he saw me, he quickly waved off the conversation and headed toward Marc and me.

  "I'm not sure you should be here," Grayson said as soon as he reached us. "The last thing you want is anyone accusing you of getting in the way. Or tampering with the search." My eyes narrowed reflexively in response, more than a little sick of being under suspicion. "I don’t think so," Grayson quickly clarified. "But it will be easier for everyone this way."

  "And where exactly would you want us to go?" Marc asked. "Are we supposed to just hang out in our rooms all day?"

  "That might not be the worst idea. Hopefully, it's just for one day and then you can go back to how things were before."

  "Yeah, like that was so great. How things were before involved people staring at us and having absolutely nothing to do with our time. At least for a while there, you guys seemed intent on keeping us busy, at least while you could learn as much as you could about us. But now…"

  "Stay if you want," Grayson said, "but do not touch any books today, and stay out of the way."

  Grayson looked over at me. "It will be easier for you if you cooperate today."

  In the end, Marc wasn't prepared to listen but I at least convinced him that we could get out of the library part of the building and go grab something to eat. Instead, he dragged me down the stairwell at the opposite end of the building toward the warehouse rather than to the cafeteria. "If nothing else, we can at least see how much progress they've made."

  I didn't argue, my own curiosity getting the better of me.

  We both did our best not to look at anyone directly as we passed crowds in the hallway, each of them pushing carts of books. There probably had to be an elevator somewhere we didn't know about, but I didn't let myself wonder about it for long. There was already enough to deal
with, and I'd given up on ever really understanding how the Archive itself worked.

  We pushed our way into the warehouse Eliza had shown us earlier at the first sign of an ebb in the crowd. I was more than ready to listen to Grayson's advice and stay out of people's way. Really, I didn't want anyone noticing me at all.

  Inside, we found another massive group of librarians. They were pulling books from stacks, possibly at random, before entering information into various computers that had clearly been brought in overnight. I stood back in the corner and watched for a second, as each title moved from a stack, to a computer, to a cart to be shelved. Every time a new librarian came into the room, they brought back an empty cart and left with whichever one looked to be the fullest.

  A few people noticed us, but nobody said anything, and that was all the permission that either Marc or I needed to stay put.

  Already, the room seemed to hold far fewer books than it had the last time we visited. I didn't know whether or not librarians had been working through the night, but for having just started around dinnertime the day before they'd already made some serious progress. But there were still far more books than I could even guess at, and this was only one room. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that this would all be finished in a matter of hours.

  Still, as one of the newer arrivals, shouldn’t my book—and Devon’s and Marc’s—have been at least somewhat easy to guess at where it’d be?

  "Do you want to stay here, or…?" I asked, once my legs started to get stiff from lack of movement. There was nowhere to sit in the warehouse that wasn’t at the computer desk, and you couldn't have paid me to take up a spot there, even when the station was available.

  "I just wish we could help," Marc said. "I know we’d probably just slow things down. And no one trusts us around these things anyway. But I hate not doing anything."