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I smiled as my heart went all soft. Aww, I wanted to hug him.
“Like me in a department store,” Moe added. “There’s just so many things to look at!”
Elliot rested a hand on the librarian’s desk. “We need access to magical books. Well, all books are magical. I mean the ones about magic. Well, not fantasy books. I mean real magic books. Well, fantasy books are real too. I mean the ones that are real and about real magic.”
The librarian smiled. “Sure. It’s right this way.” She gestured for us to follow her across the library and down a flight of steps into the basement.
As we entered the supernatural section, she flicked a switch. Fluorescent lights sputtered to life along the ceiling. Some of the bulbs had stopped giving a fuck and were half-assing their job. Others had quit altogether.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves stretched in every direction as far as I could see. Tables of worn wood dotted the space and dust motes floated in the streaks of light. The place had obviously been untouched for a while.
“If you need help with anything, let me know,” the librarian said, then headed back upstairs.
Ram ran his fingertips along the spines of the nearest books. “I had no idea there was a hoard of magical books in this little town.”
“Thinking of robbing them?” I asked.
He gave me a sidelong grin. “Are you?”
I crossed my arms. “Not ever again.”
Elliot squeezed past us to gape at the shelves. “Why would you steal from a library? They let you use the books for free! Wow, look at all these magical tomes.” He grabbed one off the shelf and hugged it to his chest. “They never let me into the supernatural section back home.”
I tilted my head, realizing I knew nothing about his past. “You’re from a supe family?”
He frowned. I should have known better than to ask about anyone’s family. I didn’t know anyone who had a happy one. But I wanted to know everything about him, to trace the paths of his neurons and the lines of his body and go spelunking in his soul and maybe his butt.
What? Stop it, brain. This is serious.
Elliot stroked the book before putting it back on the shelf. “I didn’t inherit my dad’s magic like the rest of my siblings. Even Mom got a bit of it. After carrying four witch babies, some of their magic made its way into her blood. But I’m just me.”
I took a step toward him, wanting to hold him but not sure he’d want me to. “Just you is enough.”
“It never was. I wasn’t good enough to read the magical books or go to the coven events or the fae parties. They say the fae play music that no human could imagine, and I guess it’s true.”
Jag squeezed his shoulder. “You have us now, Ellie, and we think you’re enough.”
“We’ll be here as long as you want us,” I whispered.
“Maybe even longer!” Moe added.
Elliot shook his head as though to clear it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t get all angsty, especially not when we have people to save. What do you need us to do?” He looked at me.
I wanted to offer comfort, but I let it go for his sake. “Magical books are rarely in English.”
Only fucking Ram would know how to read most of them. For him and Juniper, any language connected to magic came to them naturally without having to study. A perk of their father being a demon who was older than human civilization.
It was said that demons mating with humans was the source of all magic in mortals. Most people were so far removed from their demon forbearers that they were lost to history—but that wasn’t the case for Ram and Juniper. Undiluted ancient magic flowed in their blood.
“Does anyone know other languages?” I asked.
“A little bit of Punjabi from my grandmother,” Jag said.
“I know Spanish,” Elliot said, perking up.
“Let’s see.” Moe stared at the ceiling as though thinking. “I studied French, Scottish Gaelic, Greek, German, Hawaiian, and Klingon.”
I raised my brows, impressed. “Which ones are you fluent in?”
