Behind him, dressed in jeans, a Hello Kitty T-shirt, a spring-green raincoat, and a yellow beanie that hid her pointed ears, trailed a distraught and anxious Flora.
“Flora,” I gasped, rising from my swivel chair behind the checkout counter. “Oh my God.”
“Oh,” said Hunter, folding his arms, “so youdoknow this pint-sized heathen.”
“That’sMissPint-Sized Heathen to you, you great boot-wearing goose.”
Hunter blinked at me, unamused. “She was looking for you all through the stacks in the adult nonfiction, yelling your name like someone who, I don’t know, has never been in a flippinglibrarybefore.”
“I have a library in me house the likes of which you’ve never even dreamed of,” snapped Flora.
“I bet its two bookshelves filled withGoosebumpsand YA trilogies.”
“Try life records, forbidden magic, alchemy, and divination.”
“Okay,Merlin.”
“I know someone who knew him, you know,” said Flora, hands going to her hips. “Taught me a hex or two he learned from his books. So, if’n you’d rather not find your elbows inverted in the mornin’, you’d do well to remember your manners, Boot Boy.”
“My name’sHunter.”
“Well,” said Flora, “at least you don’t shame your own name. Did a fair job hunting down Helena, didn’t you?” Abruptly, Flora turned to me. “But what are y’doin’ all the way on this side of the building?”
“I’m… the children’s librarian,” I told her, gesturing to our more colorful surroundings. “The children’s section is separate.”
“Didn’t know you worked with kids,” said Flora. “You and I have something in common after all.”
“How are you gonna say you work with kids?” challenged Hunter. “Youarea kid.”
Flora wheeled on him. “Well, if that ain’t the wean calling the fairy a shrimp.”
Hunter spread his arms. “What’s with you people? I’m eighteen!”
“When I was eighteen,” said Flora, “I was pulling pixie pranks on the countryfolk, not traipsing through a boring old library molding my brain on books.”
“What?” Hunter squinted at Flora like he, too, had caught the barest of shimmers in the air at her back—her wings poking through whatever glamour she’d cast over herself.
“Flora,” I said, drawing the fairy’s attention back to me. “What is it? Is everything okay?”
Didn’t I already know the answer, though? Why else would she be here?
“Och,” said Flora, “it’s all the exact opposite of okay.”
“It’s Grim,” I guessed, “isn’t it?”
“The kid knows Grim?” asked Hunter, aiming a thumb at Flora, who, arching her brows, aimed a thumb back at him before echoing the question.
“The kid knows Grim?”
“Um.” I bit my bottom lip. Then I shook my head. “We… all know Grim. Hunter met him the other day when he stopped by to ask about—well, that’s not important. Flora knows Grim because she’s his… um.”
I couldn’t exactly say “coworker,” could I?
“I’m his niece,” said Flora.
“From Scotland,” said Hunter, his gaze darting between us, more dubious now than ever.
“Twice removed,” Flora added.
