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Right. Text me something that I don’t know. I’m going to do my best.
You don’t understand. He’s meant to be dead. The fey have done you wolves wrong in this. I can’t say much more, but if you succeed, my court will owe you a debt. Be sure to make my mother own up to it. It’s important and I could use the help.
Shit. What else could go wrong? But I couldn’t ignore her. You got it. That’s not something I’ll forget.
I watched my phone, waiting for another text, but instead got a big fat nothing.
A tidy desk was stuck in the back corner. Again, no computer, but there was a half-eaten sandwich on a plate which made me think that someone worked here.
“Hello?” I didn’t yell, but if a Were was hiding somewhere in here, they’d hear me.
Silence.
I wandered through the stacks, trying to make sense of the organization, but magic books were mixed with books about fey and witches. They weren’t even in alphabetical order. If anything, it looked like the librarian had sorted them by color.
But what kind of librarian would be that asinine? Whoever organized this place clearly had a system. I just wasn’t getting it.
There had to be thousands—hundreds of thousands—of books in here. It put to shame every other stronghold library I’d seen. Where, oh where, was the stinking librarian?
I rested my head on the closest shelf and sighed. Hoping to jog something loose, I banged my head on the shelf a few times.
An idea. Or maybe I’d even learn something by osmosis. Because that was a thing, right?
Think, Meredith. Think. What next?
“Can I help?”
My heartbeat kicked into gear as I spun to find a Were standing behind me. He had curly blond hair that made him look a bit like a cherub—or maybe that was just his round baby face. A long scar ran from his ear down his neck, disappearing under his dress shirt. It didn’t detract from his beauty but contrasted sharply with his babyish features. The scar told me he wasn’t as innocent as he seemed.
“Hi. I’m Meredith.”
“I know who you are.” He looked me up and down, stopping only to sneer at my hair.
Maybe my mom had a point about the blue streaks, but I didn’t care. If this Were didn’t like me because I dyed my hair, then I didn’t like him either. “Right.” I really had to start paying closer attention to my surroundings. Especially here. He shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on me so easily. “And your name is?”
“Feidhelm.”
The word was clipped and I didn’t love his tone, but he had offered to help. “Actually, yes. I need to find a book on the fey.”
“We have a card catalog here.” He motioned to what I’d thought was a low bookcase, but now that I looked closer, I could see the drawer pulls.
I remembered learning about card catalogs at some point, but I’d never actually seen one. The Irish pack was stuck in the past in a lot of ways.
“Is there something specific you need to know about the fey or…?”
“Bhrunyz. I need information on a fey called Bhrunyz. Anything you have would be great.”
“This is about John,” Feidhelm said as he moved past me. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” I took a sniff. “You smell…” Like flowers. Only werewolves didn’t smell floral.
“I’m half fey.” Before I could ask any questions, he cut me off. “Let me pull some stuff for you. Sit.”
Interesting. I wondered if maybe his curls and round baby face came from a sprite, but I pushed his looks out of my mind. It didn’t really matter. All I needed to know was how to stop the fey monster. “I can help if—”
“I’m the curator here. Wouldn’t want to have to undo any missorting you made to my books.” His sneer was back.
Maybe he was particular about his books, but he was still being a dick. “Fine.” I bit the word out. “I appreciate the help.” This was third pack member that I’d actually talked to, and I had to make a good impression. Even if he was being rude.
