I grab hold of it with grateful hands and open my eyes. Bo stares at me with worried tension on her lips and around her eyes. I clear my throat and push away from the door.
"Take a look outside the door." I'm relieved there's no tremor in my voice. I sound firm and strong and in control. I will not show the storm raging inside.
Bo opens the door and sticks her head out, her curses muffled by the thick wood, but still perfectly legible. She slams the door with a thud so loud one of my books falls off the shelf.
"Bo! Be careful." I rescue the book from the floor, inspecting it for damage, and hug it to my chest.
She rolls her eyes at my glare. "Relax. Bigger problems."
Hatter appears at the bottom of the steps. "What's going on? I heard slamming."
Bo's face is scarlet with anger as she points a shaking finger at the door. "The Beast left Belle a love note outside."
Hatter's face darkens. "What sort of note?"
"About three dozen roses right on the doorstep."
His eyes close for a moment. "Shit."
I ball the fear and claustrophobia up inside me and turn it into pure fury. He will not do this to me again. I stomp over to the door, calling the trashcan with my power. It scrapes across the floor to follow me outside.
With shaky hands, I gather armfuls of the roses and shove them into the trash. The thorns sink into my skin, drawing blood, but I ignore it. Hatter and Bo scurry to help, more careful in how they pick them up. I need the reminder—that I'm alive, what I have to lose, what I escaped from.
Once every last leaf and petal is cleared from my stoop, I leave the can on the sidewalk and we return inside. I look down at my clothes and sigh. I'm covered in spots of blood and filth.
"I need to change."
"Good. That outfit is hideous. You could have at least worn a colorful tie."
I look to Hatter for help, but he shrugs with a grin, gesturing at his own blinding lime green suit. I shake my head. They really are perfect for each other.
After changing into an almost identical outfit, I find Hatter and Bo whispering. Bo has on her plotting face. It never bodes well. Her plans always mean throwing herself into the fire. And based on Hatter's expression, I'm right.
"Whatever you're planning, no."
She folds her arms across her chest. "How did you find an even more boring outfit?"
"Don't try to change the subject. You're not putting yourself at risk for me."
She shoots me a small, hard smile. "We're all at risk, my friend. And we will be until Pan is dealt with."
I adjust the holster under my blazer, reassuring myself of the gun's presence. "That doesn't mean you should run off without an intelligent plan."
"We can't all be as brilliant as you, but give me some credit."
"Oh stop. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Remember the time in Egypt in the early 1900s? And that mess with Hansel and Gretel? Or the trouble with Jekyll and Hyde? Hawaii? Do you want me to keep going?" I tick them off on my fingers.
Hatter bends over, his body trembling with silent laughter.
Bo scowls at us. "I expect this from Hatter, but not you."
I don't know why—I don't make a habit of censoring myself. Unless I'm dealing with the Premiers, but they control my paycheck.
Hatter finally gets control of himself and wipes tears from his face. "She'd have said way worse if she knew you planned on disguising yourself as her and parading around the city."
Before I can tell her exactly what kind of idiot she is, Hatter's kettle screams from upstairs.
Chapter 10
Hatter's eyes widen. "My tea. Hopefully I'll have some answers for you soon."
Bo glares at him. "Don't forget to clean up the mess from breakfast. You're staying here with Belle and the Library."
"I know, love. I'll take care of it."
I scowl and fist my hands on my hips. "I don't need babysitting."
Bo straps her gun into her shoulder holster. "Maybe you don't, but the Library does. Jackie and Red are about to head back out too."
I suck in a sharp breath through my nose. "Fine. Bo, do not do what you were planning. Just see if your animals can find any info for us. I have to start answering emails and phone calls."
Hatter kisses Bo and leaps up the steps.
Bo hesitates before leaving.
"What is it?" Dread curls in my chest at the expression on her face.
She bites her lower lip. "How are you holding up? Really?"
I shrug, trying to clear my head of the scent of roses. "I'm fine."
"Belle." She levels me with serious and sad puppy eyes.
I can't do this right now with her. I'm barely holding back the scream still trapped in my chest. "What?"
She grabs her jacket from the coat rack, smiling when it bows at her, and slides it on. "I know you. You always shove everything down so it eats at you. It's me. You can let it out with me."
I step back, praying she understands. "I'll let it out when I have my knife at the Beast's throat. That's all I need."
Bo sighs, but doesn't push it. "Call me if anything changes and have Hatter call me with the result of his reading. And don't do anything I would do."
I huff a laugh and watch as she saunters out the door. I hear her foot crash into metal outside when she kicks the trashcan. I flinch at my poor can. Bo must have forgotten it's under my power. I hate to see them hurt or damaged.
A perfect example of why I save my darker emotions for my enemies. I don't want anyone else caught in the crossfire.
Jackie and Red tromp down the steps, giving me quick hugs and slipping out the door. I'm grateful for the lack of fuss. After locking the ward and door behind them, I return upstairs to my apartment.
I peek into the kitchen to see how Hatter's progressing, following the scent of English Breakfast. He sits at the bar with glazed eyes and a teacup clutched in his hands. I back out, leaving him to it. He doesn't like company or distractions when he's reading leaves; he needs complete focus.
Instead of bothering him, I plop onto the couch in the living room and start answering emails. I hurry to close the panda video I'm watching when Hatter finally emerges from the kitchen. I should be answering emails, but I got sidetracked.
"Anything?"
His eyes crinkle with frustration. "I saw something, but it was fuzzy and confusing."
Hopes dashed, I ask, "What did you see?"
He grinds his fist into his forehead. "Roses and apples. The three princes together, but no sign of Pan. They're in some kind of flat, but all I saw was a parlor. Nothing to help us figure out where."
Damn. There must be something. "I guess roses and apples make sense. The whole Prince Charming of it all. Although there aren't apples in Aurora or Cinderella's stories. What were they doing?"
"Arguing. But I couldn't hear what. There was another noise that overpowered it. One I can't place."
I frown and set aside my phone. "Can you describe it?"
He grimaces, staring down at the floor, looking inward. "It's sort of like an alarm? Or horn?"
"Train whistle?"
He shakes his head. "No. Something else. It kept blaring, and it was all I could hear."
I sigh in disappointment. "It was a long shot."
"Sorry, love. I mostly get emotions from leaves, not specifics."
"What emotions did you get?"
He spears me with a glance. "Rage."
Chapter 11
Words from emails and phone calls scamper through my brain. The humans are furious and scared, the other Head librarians are worried and disapproving. The other Fae prisons are scrambling to make sure they don't suffer the same. The Premiers demand answers.
And no one has further information on the relic, on who else is working with Pan, or what he's after. The lot of us sit on our hands with no new leads, nothing other than my can of dying roses.
I can still smell them from all the way outside. The stench clings to my nose, so strong it makes me gag
.
With a sneer aimed at my phone, I shove away from my desk and march outside, touching the can to take away its animation. I pull a lighter from my pocket and light the whole thing up, enjoying the hiss of the flames, and toss it on top of the roses.
There's a grim pleasure in watching the gifts from the Beast burn. My lips pull away from my teeth in a feral snarl. I hope he returns and sees their ashes. I only wish I'd killed him so many years ago, instead of having him arrested. I’d tried to do the right thing. It was too good for him.
The back of my neck prickles. Someone's watching me.
With a casual hair flip, I peek over my shoulder between the strands. It's the Count. Tension bleeds out of me at his approach.
"Dantès."
"Having a nice bonfire?"
"I am." I turn back to the flames.
His head tilts to the side. "Do I smell roses?"
"Yes."
Understanding replaces the mild confusion on his face. "I see. He's made contact?"
I wrap my arms around my middle. "If you call leaving roses on my doorstep contact."
"Is that normal for him?"
"No. It's new." The Beast didn't hunt me before. He just took me. Made a deal with my father and locked me up. This is more August's style.
Dantès stands at my side and watches the roses burn. "I'm surprised to see you out here without your bodyguards."
The slightest smile lifts one corner of my mouth. "They don't know I escaped."
"I see. Would you like to get out of here?" He turns to me.
"And go where?" I ask absently, barely paying attention to him, lost in the flames and memories.
"I could take you to dinner." His words yank me back to the present.
I open my mouth to say yes, desperate to get away from here. "I can't. I still have work to do." I scowl at my door. Usually I love nothing more than being surrounded by my books and losing myself in a puzzle, but I can't focus.
"Informing the powers that be of this mess?" An amused grin ghosts across his face.
I wince at the reminder. "No, I'm finished with that. Hatter is dealing with the local police for me."
"Then, what's the next step for you?"
"I have to identify the relic Pan has. If we can figure out what it is, we can understand how it works." My mind whirls with useless information I can't seem to connect to anything tangible.
"I'm excellent at research." He angles his body completely to face me, his back to the can of now ashes.
"I thought you work alone?"
He shrugs. "I haven't caught a scent yet. Perhaps a little research will inspire me."
"Fine."
"Really?" Surprise lightens his eyes to an amber color.
Already regretting it, I frown. "As long as you don't disturb me while I'm working."
He scoffs. "I'm not a toddler."
I smirk. "You're friends with Hatter. He's incapable of being still or quiet for more than three minutes at a time."
He moves in close, his voice low and rough. "I'm not Hatter."
A shiver races through me at the look in his eyes, like he sees right down to the soul of me. With a step back, I can breathe again. "Come on then. I still want to know how you discovered the Library's location."
"You're Head Librarian and you run a bookshop. Maybe you should have opened a flower shop instead." He grimaces at my shudder. "Sorry. Stupid of me."
"It's all right. It's not the flowers' fault." I open the door for him.
He steps inside and pauses at the threshold as I lock up. "I guess if I ever want to buy you a gift, it'll have to be books or chocolate."
"I accept both."
"I'll keep it in mind."
Hatter waves with a large grin as we pass him. He's still using his crooning persuasion on whoever he's on the phone with. Bo and Red still haven't returned and Jackie is upstairs on the couch catching a nap.
My hand hovers at the door as I pause at the door to the basement steps. I mutter a prayer I'm not wrong about Dantès by letting him in the Library.
"Trust me, Belle. I would never betray Hatter. Or you."
Trust doesn't come easily to me. But something about him makes me want to. It always has. It's why I've tried so hard to recruit him.
But if he tries to steal anything, I'll put him down. I thrust my hand into the ward, wincing against the colorful lights glowing in response.
I know my way by feel, so I don't need light, but Dantès does. I reach back and take his hand. His skin is warm and strong against mine, the calluses from his sword scraping my palm.
"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"
The dark hides my grin. "You'll see once we're down the steps."
"Why don't you have light?"
"Added security. Someone somehow breaks through those wards, they'll break their neck on these stairs."
He sniffs. "You know I'm the Count of Monte Cristo? I could get down these without a problem."
I rip my hand from his and abandon him on the spiral staircase. If he falls, I'll have to apologize to Hatter, but he'll get over it. Dantès will return soon enough and besides, Fae heal quickly. A broken neck might not even kill him.
His laughter trickles down at me through the dark. I wait at the bottom for him to call me back to help. Or for his fall.
"I told you." His voice whispers in my ear from behind.
Chapter 12
I jerk and aim a punch right at his throat before I can stop myself. He dodges and it glances off his shoulder.
Humor paints his voice. "Told you."
I flip the lights on. And enjoy watching the smug look disappear from his face, replaced with awe. It gives me the strongest sense of pleasure each time someone sees it for the first time.
The rows and rows and rows of shelves brimming with books and precious objects. The cozy chairs and couches by the fireplace. The desks covered with papers and books. Everything down here is perfectly categorized and organized. Nothing like my mess of a shop upstairs.
Soft lights cast a glow like flickering lanterns are scattered across the ceiling. The smell of parchment and ink and old leather wrap around me in the embrace of an old friend. My tension bleeds away. This is home. This is why I haven't quit.
"This is amazing."
"I know. Feel free to look around if you want. I'll pat you down before I let you out of here though, so don't try to nick anything."
His lips quirk. "I’ll keep that in mind."
He thinks I'm joking. I'm not. His little display reminded me of his talents. I can't put anything past him, as impossible as it may seem. The wards will glow red if he tries to take anything from the Library as well, so if I miss something, the wards won't.
Dantès wanders off and I light the wood in the fireplace and sink down onto the rug in front of it. I gathered a pile of books earlier I thought might have information for me and finally have time to search through them.
I spread the files across the floor and pull a pen from the inside pocket of my blazer. I lose myself in old tomes and ancient words, my pen flying across my legal pad as I take note of anything slightly pertinent. A tendril begins to form in my mind, but I can't quite grasp it, the puzzle floating away each time I reach for it.
I don't know how long I remain lost in thought, drowning in words, but the slam of a stack of books on the floor startles me back to earth.
"Be careful." I glare up at him from my position on my stomach. Why does no one treat my books with the respect they deserve?
Dantès squats beside me. "I thought these might help."
"What are they?" I spin the pile to read the spines.
"Old legends of Arthurian relics."
Why is he wasting my time? I was onto something. Or, was about to be. "There are no teleportation relics in Arthurian legends."
"No, but there are legends about powerful relics that perform all sorts of magic. Strong magic."
"But this one seems to have limits. And they haven't used
it for anything else." And the majority of Arthurian relics are scattered across different Libraries.
"That we know of."
I shrug. "It's worth checking. I'm not finding anything in these other than vague rumors." I grab the first book and open it carefully. It's one of the older books, the pages delicate as dead leaves.
Dantès shoves a different book at me. "Have you considered Shakespeare?"
Frowning absently, I turn the page, my special gloves catching on the edge. "What about him? He's in Spain. I don't know that his power would really help us."
"Not the Fae. The original's works."
I bend over the faded words in the ancient book, only half listening. "You mean a Shakespearean relic?"
"Yes." Dantès changes position so he's beside me, peering over my shoulder to read the text along with me.
I ignore the heat from his skin brushing against mine. "I think we've found them all. He went searching over a century ago with Goose to round them up." I scrawl a quick note I want to follow up later. Perhaps it's time to digitize a lot of these books, before they crumble with age. Several other Librarians have asked for permission, but I've resisted.
There's something special and powerful about the original books, something e-books are missing.
"There are so many, there had to be some he missed." He points to a passage at the bottom of the page. It mentions the Holy Grail. Something we did never find. So very meta when art imitates life imitating art. Or something. It isn't the Holy Grail doing this. Everyone is expecting Arthur will find it when he returns. I make a note to follow up anyway. With Pan, there's no telling.
I try to focus on Dantès’ question instead of the scent of him, leather and spice. "Perhaps. Why Shakespeare though?"
"Pan has found two powerful relics. There aren't many more powerful than Shakespeare's. He's still one of the most popular authors." The more popular the story, the more powerful the relic.
"His words aren't as thrilling once you've met him."
"You don't like him?" Surprise and amusement color his voice.
"Oh, he's wonderful. But..." I trail off. Meeting Sherlock was amazing. I'd followed her adventures while Doyle was writing them and fell completely in love. Meeting Shakespeare, as delightful as he is, was somehow disappointing.
Charm (Black Sheep of Faery Book 3) Page 4
