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Samuel led them into the building, and all the Weavers and mates followed. Inside, it looked more like a library with shelves of books lined up and even an old-fashioned card-catalogue section. There were a few computers on tables, so they were up-to-date in some ways. It smelled musty like only a lot of books can, and Hale poked his head down one of the aisles to see if any people were in there. But it was so quiet, he doubted it. Not that libraries weren’t quiet even when people were around.
So far, they’d only passed a librarian at the front desk. And not your classic little old lady with gray hair, glasses on a chain, and a stern look in her eye like she just knew you were going to grab your boyfriend and do dirty things in the back stacks. No, this guy was tall with broad shoulders and muscles on his muscles that bulged out under his waffle Henley. Hale flashed him a friendly smile and received a solemn nod.
There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the building and again, he felt a shiver of awareness—like something was just…off.
Hale pulled Clay aside. “Something’s not right.”
“I know what you mean.” Clay looked around, a frown pulling his brows together. “I’m feeling it, too. But Harrison isn’t acting like anything is out of normal. Maybe we’re just on edge.”
“I don’t know,” Hale murmured as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m glad we brought the guns, though.”
Harrison grabbed their attention then. “The book is in a room in the back. It’s in a spelled case, so you’ll have to break the spell to open it.”
But Hale was too busy fighting the creepy feeling brushing over his skin to pay attention to Harrison. He didn’t follow them into the room. Instead, he crossed to one of the dirty windows to look out. There were a few people gathering outside near their vehicles and the building. He kept an eye on them, his hand gripping the gun Clay had insisted he start carrying. If they were Guardians, they could just be here to meet the Weavers as if they were movie stars, but Hale couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
A low murmur of conversation lifted out of the room. The scent of burnt ozone and petrichor slipped through the air followed by Wiley’s excited cackle. Hale was willing to guess that one of them had quickly figured out how to break the protective spell. With the Guardian ranks filled with normal humans, Hale could only guess that the spell had been placed by one or all of the goddesses, leaving the book protected until the Weavers came along.
When the others returned to the main room, Harrison was carrying what looked like a sheaf of papers wrapped tightly in a leather cord. He met Hale’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“People are gathering outside, and I have a bad feeling I can’t shake.”
Harrison hurried over to the window. “They’re Guardians. They don’t get a lot of visitors in town, so having three new cars at the library can only mean one thing. I’m sure they’re here to meet the Weavers,” he reassured, but the words fell flat when the frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Wait…those people in the back. I don’t recognize them.”
Clay came to the window, a snarled curse rumbling up his throat. “John’s out there. Shit. Grey, we’re going to need you, big-time. I don’t want to kill Guardians.”
“You can’t kill Guardians!” Samuel shouted, lines of anguish digging deep into his old face. He rushed up to Clay and grabbed his shoulder, jerking him so the Weaver was forced to face him. “These people are my family!”
“John’s the one who can control minds, right?” Harrison asked. “You guys won’t be able to tell the pestilents from the Guardians.”
Clay’s lips tightened, the look in his eyes grim. “In the heat of battle, it becomes more difficult. We rely on the red eyes, smell, and talons to identify the pestilents. We’ll do our best, but I can’t promise there won’t be casualties.” He glanced out the window again. “They’re just gathering and waiting for us to come out. Grey, can you start to work on them from here?”
Grey nodded and walked toward the front door.
“You can’t go out there,” Cort said, running up to him.
“I’m not. I’m going to try and break the spells from inside—I just need to see them.”
“Well, don’t let them see you.” Cort crossed his arms and stood next to Grey.
Calder had walked to another window. “It’s too dry here,” he complained, his voice edged with what sounded like growing panic. “I can draw water from the ground, but not enough to do any real damage.”
“There’s a pond behind the general store,” Samuel said. “There’s also a back door if you guys want to get outside.”
