by Lucy True
“Gee, I wonder why?” she retorted. “Oh, I know why – because you’re making innocent people fall in love with each other and now they’re pining so hard, they’re on the verge of death or getting themselves killed to get who they want. What the heck is that all about? You better have a good answer, because I’m not in the mood for games.”
The words came out far bolder than she felt. Sure, she was pretty pissed off, but enough to actually tackle a library patron? That seemed excessive, even in this situation. Still, she bristled and glared at the man. Mr. Knight’s office door slammed shut, and she realized both he and Lynn had overheard her. It didn’t matter, though. She’d seen a terrified man running away from a woman, the same love-obsessed woman put herself in danger without a second thought, and now Mr. Knight on the verge of giving up on life. The safety of her town was on the line and she wasn’t going to let the guy get away from her.
The adrenaline coursing through her heightened every sense. Over time, the musty scent of the library was something she no longer noticed. Now, though, she smelled it again, with something sharper layered over it. It was the earthy sweet aroma of magick.
“Look.” Despite her qualms about manhandling a complete stranger, especially in the library, Burgundy reached out and yanked on the collar of his coat.
She could see that her hands were shaking, but she didn’t care. She’d take this on like an alpha shifter and make sure this Cupid asshole was sorry for messing with her town. It might be tempting fate to confront him, but she didn’t care. He was hurting people she cared about, her friends and neighbors. Screw her professional demeanor. No one was around to see her.
“You aren’t turning everyone in this town into lovesick zombies who can’t function without a boyfriend or girlfriend. Not on my watch.”
“Darling, you’re the whole reason I’m here.”
Burgundy cringed and stopped yanking at the coat to look the man up and down. “Sorry, but I don’t swing that way. Or haven’t you heard?”
“I’ve heard a great many things about you, Burgundy Jane Hart, witch-in-training.” The man lifted his hand and brushed hers away from his collar. Now that he’d raised his face to the light, Burgundy saw he was not much older than her. Those eyes of his flashed in the fluorescent glow, a strange silver color. She knew appearances were deceiving in Rock Grove. A woman like Martha appeared to be in her sixties, but her actual age could very well be a century or more. The guy looked young, but he could be far older.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, content that the man she’d cornered wouldn’t bolt yet. “So you know my name and what I am. That’s pretty damn creepy, but all of that stuff isn’t exactly secret knowledge.”
“Maybe not, but there’s plenty of other things I do know.”
When he didn’t add “about you” to the end of the sentence, Burgundy shrugged. “Great. So what do you want for that – a medal? Let me tell you something, man, take your bow and arrows, and get out of Rock Grove. Go play Cupid elsewhere. Otherwise, you’re going to find yourself at the wrong end of some torches and pitchforks.”
The town hadn’t assembled a good old-fashioned mob in a long time, but that was beside the point. The last thing Burgundy needed was to catch the guy in the act, only to have him slip through her fingers. She wished she’d brought her cell phone downstairs with her. Getting a photo might prove useful. Her brow furrowed and she gave the man another long, searching look.
Something emanated off him, a rich, earthy scent that reminded her of a spring day after a rain shower. The tingle of magick was coming directly from him, not just the arrows. The realization had her taking a step back and raking him with her gaze.
“You’re a witch, too!”
“Warlock, darling. There is a difference, you know.” He sounded testy and a bit of Scottish accent edged his words. With his free hand, he reached up and straightened the front of his coat. Warlock wasn’t the equivalent of a male witch. They were, Burgundy recalled, a different kind of magick-user. They could be men or women. As far as she knew, they had only one goal in life: increase their power by any means necessary.
Her gaze dropped to the bow now clutched in his other hand. “For a second there, I thought Cupid had gone wild in our town. So now I see it’s just you being a nuisance, not the apocalypse.”
“That’s cute... and not far from the truth.”
Burgundy looked up at him again and saw a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “So what is the truth?” she asked. “Astound me with your obviously superior knowledge.”
The man appeared to consider her words, his gaze holding hers for a moment before he said, “Now, that wouldn’t be too difficult, would it? But I’m going to have to say no to that.” He turned and dashed past her, into the auditorium.
“Oh, come on!” Burgundy followed in time to see him fleeing through the back door. She ran to it and shoved at the door when it closed on her. Cold air slammed into her, but a quick scan of the area behind the library showed no one else out there. The warlock had simply vanished into thin air.
Grumbling, she turned back to the library and looked at Sylvia, who shrugged. “Who was that guy?” the librarian asked as Burgundy shut the door.
“I don’t know. If I could have taken a picture of him, that might have helped.” She lifted her gaze to the seam where the ceiling met the wall. There, blinking back at her, was one of the many security cameras they had scattered throughout the building. “Sylvia, would you pull up the camera feed?”
“Sure.” Sylvia turned back to her computer and switched browser tabs to the software. While Burgundy waited behind her chair, the other librarian went to the day’s recording and scrolled back to the time when the man first entered the building.
Triumph swelled within Burgundy as she pointed to the screen and said, “There he is. Will you write down the time stamp for me? I want to create a timeline.”
“Why a timeline?” Sylvia asked. “And why were you chasing him? What’s going on? Does this have something to do with the way people have been acting? Did I tell you I saw that Bingley boy with the one who likes to smoke outside our front door?”
“I saw them too, and yeah. I didn’t realize it was going to turn into such a huge problem, but we’ve got issues and he’s the cause.” Burgundy accepted the piece of paper from the nymph and they both watched the replay up until the point where the man ran out the door.
“Does he have a bow?” Sylvia squinted and leaned forward, scrutinizing the paused frame of the video.
Nodding, Burgundy also got closer to the monitor. “He does, yeah, but those arrows don’t kill. I think they’re tipped with some sort of love potion.”
Sylvia’s mouth opened into a little O and she turned to Burgundy. “Love potion? That can’t be. Wouldn’t the arrows still hurt when they hit?”
“I don’t think so. Oh, there’s one near Mr. Knight’s office.” Burgundy spun on her heel and scurried back through the auditorium, up onto the stage, through the kitchen, and found what she was looking for. The first arrow was still wedged into the plaster of the wall. As she reached up to remove it, the door to Mr. Knight’s office opened and Lynn stepped out, clutching the other arrow.
“Someone tried to kill us.” The cat shifter’s lower lip trembled and her eyes swam with tears.
“Don’t worry.” Burgundy took the other arrow and examined both of them. “The tips are blunt. I think they’re too dull to pierce the skin, but I’m pretty sure there’s a love potion coating them.”
Lynn backed against the office door. Burgundy couldn’t blame her. This was dangerous magick, the kind her aunt had often warned against using. Not that Burgundy could if she wanted to, which she certainly didn’t. Even though she didn’t think the arrows could do any harm, she found a plastic bag to wrap them in for safekeeping.
She stuck her head back into Mr. Knight’s office, glad to see he was sitting up straighter. “He looks back to normal,” she whispered to Lynn,
who lingered by the door.
“Yeah. I think I’ll get some lunch. I skipped breakfast to get here early for you.” There was accusation in Lynn’s voice, but Burgundy ignored it. Some things were more important, like the life of their boss.
“Go get something. I can keep an eye on him.”
Lynn nodded and as she stepped out of the office, Mr. Knight whined, “Where are you going?”
The assistant hesitated and exchanged a glance with Burgundy. “I need to get some lunch. Do you want something?”
“You can’t go.” He pushed out of his chair, hands pressing against the desk and arms taut. “I need you with me, Lynn. I’ll die without you.”
Burgundy didn’t doubt Mr. Knight’s words, not after the condition she’d seen him in earlier that day. Relief rushed through her when Lynn extended her hand and cooed, “Come with me, then.”
Mr. Knight didn’t need to be told twice. He moved around the desk and clasped her hand. Burgundy followed them toward the back door. “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” she asked. “I mean, the guy who did this to Mr. Knight targeted you, too, Lynn.” Not that she cared if Lynn and Mr. Knight spent the rest of their lives canoodling, but it was clearly not good for anyone’s health.
“It’ll be fine. Stop worrying and go do your job.” Lynn shooed her away and opened the back door.
As sunlight flooded the room, Mr. Knight drew back with a hiss. A thin tendril of smoke rose from where Lynn held his hand and she let go with a gasp. “Close the door!” Burgundy yelled, relieved there weren’t children in the library. The last thing they needed to see was the director burning from the light of the sun.
Lynn slammed the door shut and pressed her back to it, chest heaving. “Oh dear!”
“Oh dear” was the understatement of the year. Burgundy approached Mr. Knight and looked at his hand. The singed skin didn’t look badly injured and he still seemed intent on one thing.
“Lynn, how could you?” he asked plaintively.
“I didn’t mean to... I didn’t know...” The pulse in her throat throbbed visibly and she swallowed.
Burgundy’s own heart was beating wildly. The love spell had nearly compelled her boss, who she now knew was a vampire, to go to his death all because he couldn’t live without one person. After what she’d seen happen to Mr. Knight and Delia Hargrove before that, she had to face reality.
Unless she did something to stop the warlock, it was only a matter of time before the magick affecting her idyllic little town took an even more perilous turn.
Chapter Twelve
The presence of the arrows in her purse kept Burgundy from sitting still or getting any work done. After Mr. Knight’s close call, she’d volunteered to get lunch for everyone in the library. It gave her time to walk and berate herself for losing the warlock. What were the odds he’d return and make another attempt? Every little sound set off alarm bells in her mind, while her body vibrated with tension. Whenever the door opened, she couldn’t help but rise from her chair and glare at whoever entered the library.
Fortunately, the rest of the day remained uneventful. Too quiet, really, for her tastes. After the excitement of the morning, she wanted answers. She needed them. As she went through her closing procedures, she went downstairs to check on Lynn and Mr. Knight. They seemed happy enough, Lynn perched on his lap and nestling against his shoulder, hand-burning incident forgotten. It was an inappropriate way for employer and employee to behave, but Burgundy knew she didn’t really have a say in it.
Burgundy couldn’t help but remark, “That turned around quick.”
Lynn straightened and glared at her. “Well, what do you expect?” she spat back. “It’s love or death.”
“Whoa, easy there.” Burgundy lifted her hands and glanced at Mr. Knight. His color had returned and he looked much more alert. She had to wonder how he would manage to nourish himself if he couldn’t hunt for food. “I came down to let you know it’s closing time and I thought I should, I don’t know, escort you to your car.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure that guy was after you today. He was probably looking to make you fall in love with Mr. Knight, the way he’s fallen in love with you.”
Lynn wrinkled her nose and smiled, her features once again betraying her feline race. “I’m perfectly content to stay here with my dear Mr. Knight. I can’t leave him, anyway. You know that.”
“But you’re not going home?” Burgundy considered Lynn’s living circumstances. She was single, lived alone with no pets, and her four children were grown.
“Of course not. Mr. Knight said I could spend the night with him. Besides, he has special needs that I can’t see to at my house, so I’ll just–”
“I... Okay, TMI.” Backing out of the doorway, Burgundy reached for the doorknob, when her boss’s voice stopped her.
“Miss Hart?”
“Yes?” It was good to hear him sounding normal again, but Mr. Knight’s next words formed a hard pit of anxiety in her stomach.
“Don’t discipline Lynn ever again or she’ll have your job. Do you understand?”
Burgundy knew her mouth fell open, so she closed it quickly, hoping she hadn’t gaped long enough for them to notice. “Yes,” she answered. “Good night.”
Both Sylvia and Marian watched her progress up the stairs and frowned when she shook her head at them. “Seriously?” Sylvia asked.
“She’s staying here with him. I guess it’s true – Mr. Knight practically lives here.” Burgundy let out a ragged sigh as they approached the front door. “And he told me never to discipline her again or he’d fire me. So it looks like that lovely little talk I had with Lynn is biting me on the butt, after all. Lucky me.”
Marian let out a little squawk of indignation, which Burgundy appreciated. But it did nothing to ease the dread that had settled bone-deep within her. “That’s... that’s...”
“I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it. As long as Mr. Knight thinks he’s in love with Lynn, he’s going to take her side, no matter what. The best thing we can do is watch our own backs and stay safe.”
“Like I need that reminder.” Marian blew out a breath. “That Walter Falter won’t leave me alone. He’s at Sylvia’s every night, tossing pebbles at my window like some lovelorn fool.”
Burgundy thought about Marian’s words and looked at Sylvia. “I hate to say it, but you might have to let him in to keep him from getting as sick as Mr. Knight did. It wasn’t a good thing, let me tell you.”
When Marian opened her mouth to protest, Sylvia cut her off and said, “Burg is right. We have a responsibility to help take care of the people in this town, even the ones you don’t like, Marian.” Marian folded her arms and turned away, letting out a little “hmph.”
Despite that, Burgundy smiled at Sylvia. If anyone would do right by Walter, it was the nymph. She’d see to it that he didn’t end up deathly ill. It was some comfort, at least, given Burgundy still didn’t know the full extent of their town’s situation.
Burgundy held the door for her co-workers until they filed out of the building. She turned and locked it, glancing up at the exterior lights to make sure they’d illuminated.
“Great, so Evil-Lyn basically has our boss wrapped around her finger now, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Marian pouted, both her words and expression echoing Burgundy’s sentiments. If not for the fact that she held a position of some authority at the library, Burgundy would have turned their little conversation into a mutual bitchfest. But she simply nodded and stuffed her hands in her pockets.
It was Sylvia who reached out and rubbed her arm, offering a motherly smile. “It’ll all turn out okay, somehow. Try not to worry.”
Burgundy thought of the two arrows, wrapped in plastic and now poking out of her purse. “Right,” she said. “I’ll do that. See you tomorrow.”
For once, she hurried home from the library. There were enough dinners in the freezer to feed an army, so she threw one in th
e microwave and waited for it to heat up while she unrolled the plastic bag containing the arrows.
Arthur blinked into sight on the counter next to the microwave and frowned. “Really? What happened to promising me broccoli beef if I was nice to you?”
“I have something going on. Broccoli beef can happen later.” Burgundy went to the microwave when it dinged and removed the plastic tray.
“Oh no. Is it Charlotte? Please tell me the two of you haven’t finally figured out you like each other.”
“What?” Burgundy dropped the hot meal on the counter and shook her fingers to cool them. The firedrake’s statement was definitely out of left field and burned more than the overheated plastic. “Obviously we like each other. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten.”
“Yes, but she likes you as more than a friend, and you feel the same way about her,” Arthur pointed out. He inched his nose toward the tray and then recoiled.
Burgundy yanked open the utensil drawer and tried to ignore the funny fluttering in her stomach that threatened to replace her hunger with queasiness. “Why are you even bringing this up right now?” she asked. The kitchen was too hot, stuffy, like it was closing in on her. Or maybe it was what she was wearing. She stripped off her cardigan and tossed it over a chair, but even the air on the bare skin of her arms couldn’t combat the rising heat.
“You said you had stuff more important than beef broccoli. Then there’s that kiss she tried to lay on you the other night. And I know you think she’s cute, but I have to say, you can’t date her.”
It seemed like an odd conversation to have, considering there were much bigger things going on in Rock Grove. But Burgundy couldn’t resist asking, “And why can’t I date her?”
Arthur rolled his gleaming green eyes, his reaction stopping just short of him prefacing his next sentence with a “duh.” “It’s obvious, Burg. You can’t date Charlotte because if you break up with her, you’ll have to find another place to get your coffee. And we can’t have you flailing through life without caffeine. Trust me – I’ve seen you in the morning and you’re barely tolerable.”
