by Molly Harper
Zed shook his head. “And that doesn’t make me sound like the saddest little sad-sack that ever sacked?”
“Do you want to be proud or do you want to be happy?” Bael asked.
Zed harrumphed. Just then, the woman herself walked in, wearing a blue t-shirt that read, “Save the Drama for Your Llama!”
“What’s with all the llamas?” Bael asked.
“I have no clue. She even has them on her underwear,” Zed said. “It’s just the cutest thing you ever saw. When she walks around in them, it looks like they’re jumping across her ass cheeks and—”
Jillian pursed her lips together and shook her head.
Zed paused. “Too much?”
Jillian nodded.
Behind Bael and Jillian’s backs, Dani sat at the end of the counter and placed her order with an unsmiling Siobhan.
“Well, I like her,” said Bael. “But because you tend to pick crazy women, I just need to know how far on the scale she is, so I know what sort of contingency plans to come up with—air, water or ground rescue? Will a drone be required? Does she have the means to shoot down my drone? I need to take all of these things into account and in order to do that, I need more information.”
“You’re an asshole,” Zed told him.
Bael countered, “I’m prepared.”
“To be an asshole,” Zed shot back.
“Zed, the last time you went on a date, I had to interrupt a perfectly nice evening with Jillian to bring a box-cutter to your house, because Nina Pinion duct-taped you to your kitchen wall and left you like something out of a Stephen King book.”
“To be fair, she’d just found out I had a date with her cousin the next day,” Zed said. “And Dani’s not crazy, at all. I don’t think. Most of the time that comes out in the first couple of conversations.”
Bael pointed to his face. “Unimpressed.”
“So, to change the subject to something only slightly less awkward,” Jillian interjected. “Uh, what’s going on with your mama and my honorary father figure?”
“What do you mean?” Zed asked.
“You haven’t noticed that Clarisse has been spending an awful lot of time with Mel?” Jillian prompted. “At night? Alone?”
Zed scoffed. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“She made him boudin and spatzel for dinner the other night.”
“Aw, shit, she does like him,” Zed sighed.
“And then they watched The Bridges of Madison County,” Jillian added.
Zed gasped. “That’s like The Notebook for old people!”
Zed remembered what happened the last time he and Pam Beulieu watched The Notebook together. And he gagged. He was not prepared for his maman to date. He knew she’d been alone since his Papa died, when Zed was just a cub. And he knew she deserved love and companionship more than anyone on Earth. He just didn’t want to think about his mom being a sexual creature. In his mind, when she and Mel said goodnight, she pushed him out the door and went to bed alone on a mattress made of angel feathers.
“Your bear shifter mom is dating my river frogman dad,” said Jillian. “It sounds like a bad sitcom set-up. How do you feel about that?”
Zed shuddered. “I don’t know. I mean, if she’s interested in him, he must be pretty great. And instead of threatening to bury his body somewhere in the swamp, I should probably respect her feelings and try to make things as easy as possible on both of them. I should get to know him and give him a fair chance and make him feel welcome in my loving family. Damn it.”
“Being a grown-up sucks, huh?” said Jillian.
“It really does. And on that depressing note, I bid y’all good day.”
Bael called over his shoulder. “Hey, Zed, remember all the shit you gave me about mooning over Jillian? Payback’s a bitch.”
Zed boomed, “Fuck you, Bael!”
And because his neighbors were used to this sort of exchange, none of them batted an eyelash—except of course for Bathtilda Boone, who poked her gray head out of her office and snapped at Zed, “Watch your mouth in my establishment, Mr. Mayor!”
Zed approached the counter as Siobhan slid Dani’s pie in front of her with a side of thick-cut bacon. He crossed the dining room, barely stopping for the people who called greetings out to him. He sat at the counter seat on Dani’s left.
“I’ll have a piece of blueberry, Miss Siobhan,” Zed called.
“This gal took the last piece,” Siobhan said, nodding toward Dani, whose plate overran with fat blueberries seeping out of a thick shortbread crust.
“I’m not even sorry,” she told him, forking a bite into her mouth.
Zed gasped and placed his hand over his chest. “You wound me with your coldness, cher.”
Dani’s dark brows drew together and Zed wondered if he’d hit a little too close to home. But the uncertain expression faded from her face as she chewed Siobhan’s divine blueberry creation. The motion of Dani’s glossed lips combined with the rich fruity smell of pie filling had Zed’s mouth-watering.
“So, you get to order a specific pie?” asked Dani. “I thought the whole deal was that Siobhan is supposed to choose your pie for you. Jillian told me it’s better that way. Everybody has told me it’s better that way.”
“Yes, but Siobhan has always chosen blueberry for me. Ever since I was a cub. I’m a creature of habit. At least, when it comes to pie.”
“So of all the magical soul healing available, you’ve needed the same thing since you were a cub?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
He attempted to pluck a blueberry from her plate and she poked her fork none-too-lightly into the back of his hand.
“What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“I told you, blueberry was my favorite!” he exclaimed. “And you have the last piece.”
“I have cut people for less,” she said. “There is a guy wandering around Hurghada with half a thumb because he tried to take my kabob.”
Zed raised his hand, grinning. “I respect that. So what are your plans for today?”
“I’m going to head over to the public library, do a little writing and some research.”
“We have a whole office complex set up by the parish hall, you know,” Zed told her. “You don’t have to hide out at the library.”
“I like it there,” she told him. “There’s a nice, calming atmosphere, from all of the books, all of the people who go there to learn. And Miss Bardie is so sweet. I like spending my breaks with her.”
Zed frowned at the description of Miss Bardie as anything but an angry book-hoarding harpy, but didn’t say anything.
With Bael’s admonishments in mind, Zed cleared his throat and asked, “Dani, I like you, a lot. I think you’re beautiful and funny and you sort of scare me sometimes, which I think is awesome. I would like to date you. I would like to take you to dinner, or even cook you dinner, if that’s what you want. I would like to spend time with you and get to know you better. I would like it if some of that time was spent naked, but if that’s not okay with you, that’s fine, too. Anything you’re comfortable with, that’s what I want.”
Dani’s happy, relaxed expression sort of melted off her face and was replaced by discomfort.
Shit.
He had miscalculated.
Also, Bael was an idiot.
“I don’t really date. Anyone,” she said. “It’s not you, it’s me. If you want to get together for sex sometime, I’m okay with that. I mean, more than okay, I’d be thrilled. But I’ve got a job to do here and I don’t really have time for distractions like dating and dinners.”
“Wait, what?”
“Call me if you’re up for it. I need to get to work,” Dani said, hopping up from her seat. “You can eat the rest of the blueberry.”
“I do not understand what is happening here,” Zed replied.
Zed turned back to the booth where Bael and Jillian were sitting, both grimacing in the face of his rejection. Zed threw his
arms up into the air.
Siobhan passed by on her way to refilling Earl Webster’s coffee and put a stick of butter on the counter next to Dani’s abandoned plate.
“I don’t put butter on my pie, Miss Siobhan, that is morally wrong,” said Zed.
Siobhan scoffed. “I know, it’s to go on that sick burn that girl just gave you.”
9
Dani
Gramma had always encouraged Dani to give people second chances, even if they made bad first impressions, to grow on her and possibly develop a friendship you might have otherwise missed out on.
But the more Dani got to know Maureen, the more she did not like Maureen. If anything, Dani’s first impression of her had been an understatement. Maureen inquired multiple times how Dani managed to find hiking pants “in your size,” with an insulting emphasis on “your.” Maureen constantly brought up techniques and theories Dani had never heard of in an attempt to intimidate her. She was condescending and insulting in that subtle, stinging way that was supposed to make Dani feel inept and unprofessional. Instead, it just pissed her off.
But she didn’t want to risk her paycheck in the name of petty revenge . . . or murder. So she tried to ignore the woman, which was easier than one would think. She rarely saw Maureen in town. The only place she had to deal with Maureen was the rift site, and when Dani saw her there, she generally turned right around and went back home to write. Dani didn’t feel comfortable working on the rift when someone else was already there working on it. It felt unsafe to let her work mingle with someone else’s. She tried not to think of it as avoiding confrontation. She was trying to be gracious and professional . . . and remain un-jailed.
And so, she sat at her comfy space at a table near the reference section, reading about the history of Mystic Bayou and making notes. She wasn’t lying to Zed about the atmosphere here. It was quiet, so much quieter than her office, and much more restful than her house, where Zed could show up any minute to work on her shower with his distracting toplessness. She felt at home in the surprisingly grand space in the Mystic Bayou Public Library, surrounded by golden walls and tall oak shelves, stocked with everything from mass market paperbacks to scrolls that looked like they came from the library at Alexandria. Stained glass windows throughout the building depicted famous dragons in literature, but in nearly every one, the story was flipped. St. George was slayed by the dragon. Smaug ate the Hobbit. The Jabberwocky chased Alice out of Wonderland. It was a little perverse. Dani loved it.
Over her shoulder, Dani heard Miss Bardie’s low voice telling another patron, “We should have a book on Tibetan meditation practices just over here in the religion section. As you can imagine, with so many cultures represented here, the selection is quite extensive.”
Dani glanced up, her lips already bent in a smile to greet Miss Bardie, but then saw that the patron Bardie was leading toward her was Maureen Sherman.
Dani grumbled. “Motherf—” She pasted on a fake pleasant expression and said quietly, “Maureen, how interesting to see you here.”
“Yes, I’ve found your hiding spot,” Maureen trilled. “I can’t stand the noise and bustle of the office village, can you? I prefer my own little rental property outside of town.”
“Yeah, I wonder why I would be hiding,” Dani sighed.
“What brings you to the library?” Maureen asked.
“Books,” Dani said, turning back to her work.
Bardie beamed at Dani, showing a full display of sharp, shiny white teeth. “Dani is a wonderfully thorough researcher, and never puts the books back damaged or out of order.”
Dani grinned. “Your standards are very low, Miss Bardie.”
“Have you read anything on focused attention meditations?” Maureen asked. “I’m afraid I’ve pushed myself beyond my instructor’s experience and need to consult the great works of the masters. I was looking for Chodak’s work on the subject.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any experience with focused attention meditations or books on the subject,” said Dani.
“Oh, how strange. I couldn’t get through the day without mine! Perhaps that’s why you seem so . . . overwhelmed when I see you.”
Dani’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Bardie, would you excuse the two of us? I think Maureen and I need to have a discussion on polite, professional behavior and how we’re going to define it from here.”
Maureen waved her off. “Oh, no I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat. I have to find my book and return to my work. The muse is being so demanding today!”
“Oh, what a shame that you have to leave,” said Dani.
Bardie turned to Maureen. “Well, let’s help you find that book then, shall we?”
“See you at the rift site, dear,” Maureen trilled.
Dani rolled her eyes and returned to her work. Maureen Sherman was making Dani seriously reconsider her stance on not weaponizing her talent.
Dani couldn’t relax back into her cushy library chair until she heard Maureen checking out her precious book on meditation. It took her several hours of reading to finally quiet her mind, and then several hours of writing got her to unwind enough to stop grinding her teeth.
Dani worked well beyond the dinner hour. Bardie went on a break to go to the pie shop, offering to return a take-out meal to Dani, but Dani was so focused she politely refused. She was just grateful that Bardie trusted her enough to leave her alone in the library. It was locked, which meant that Dani was technically “chained” inside. But still, it was nice to be trusted.
Dani leaned back in her chair, skimming over a book she’d found on Mystic Bayou’s founders. Zed’s “great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandaddy” was mentioned several times, as was his penchant for dropping his pants in public. It was interesting material, pants aside, but she was so tired, and the chair was so comfortable. And she felt so safe in this dragon-guarded building full of books. She propped her chin on her hand, her eyes growing heavier by the minute...
Dani startled awake. She had fallen asleep, propped against the table at the library. But something was wrong. She sniffed, wiping at her eyes. Why were the lights out? How long had she been asleep? Why hadn’t Miss Bardie come back for her?
Dani scrubbed her hands over her face. She hadn’t even felt tired that afternoon. What had made her pass out like that? Could working with the rift be draining her energy in ways she hadn’t anticipated? She made a mental note to do a nice, restorative nap when she got back to the house. She couldn’t be dropping unconscious around town at random times. It was super inconvenient.
Shaking off the heaviness of fatigue, she stood, squinting in the dark so she could gather her notebooks and laptop into her bag. She was pretty sure she could find her way out of the labyrinth of shelves between her and the exit, but the doors were chained. Maybe there was a fire exit? Surely Miss Bardie wasn’t allowed to lock a fire exit. The town was run by supernatural beings, but there were still OSHA laws.
Miss Bardie didn’t have a cell phone to call. Should Dani call Jillian or Zed to come get her? Maybe she should just bunk down in the children’s section, where Miss Bardie had placed some awesome squashy green beanbags.
She pulled out her phone to use the flashlight function and figure out a path to the nearest fire exit. She was making good time, passing through the various sections, but a spiraling sense of dread crept up her spine. Though she’d spent time in some pretty eerie environments, the claustrophobic catacombs of Paris, the wild jungles of Peru, a particularly dodgy convenience store in Parsippany, New Jersey, the darkness definitely gave the usually cozy air of the library an edge. The bookshelves seemed to loom overhead, threatening to topple down on her.
In the dark, she heard a footstep.
Dani froze, craning her head to the right, where the noise had come from. She clicked off the flashlight. She bit down on the urge to call, “hello?” into the dark. That was how people died in horror movies. And if someone else was creeping around in the library, she didn’t w
ant them to know where she was.
Dani shoved her phone into her back pocket and hauled ass through the geography section. She stopped at the end of the aisle, listening. A few breaths, silently inhaled, and she heard a board creak. Dani backed away, tears gathering in her eyes. The creak came from the other side of the book shelf.
Gloved hands reached through the shelves, grabbing for her.
Dani threw her weight back against the shelf. “Shit!”
The hands tossed books off the shelf, as if they could tunnel through and grab her. Dani sprinted down the aisle, listening for footsteps. Just as she reached the open space of the reading area, someone or something barreled into her side, knocking the wind out of her as she landed.
Dani threw an elbow back, hoping to catch whoever had tackled her. She focused all of her strength on not being forced down on her face, occasionally making contact with a warm body with her feet and elbows. Her attacker groaned, but never stopped trying to grapple Dani to the floor. Dani gagged at some sickly sweet smell that seemed to be wafting off of her attacker.
Dani rolled out onto her back and shoved her assailant aside, throwing them into a nearby shelf. She pushed to her feet and ran toward a door marked with a neon “exit” sign. She ran past the checkout desk, so close she could see the red neon’s glow on her hands as she reached for the push bar. Hands shoved at her shoulders, knocking Dani down on her knees on the carpet. Strong fingers closed around her throat, squeezing tight. Dani screamed for all she was worth, kicking and fighting against the person pinning her to the floor.
The hands at her throat were tightening and her strength was fading fast. Something was sucking away her very will to draw in her next breath, and it wasn’t strangulation. She was being drained.
She was going to die in a library, drained of all of her energy, with some psycho’s hands around her neck. She’d always assumed that she would die in a tragic balcony sex accident. This was going to be a short, shitty obituary.
