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I was a creature of nature, and I’d learned long ago to trust my instincts. Every part of me screamed that she was mine. No spell in the world could change that.
I considered waiting until after her shift was done, but I didn’t know when that was, and in any case I couldn’t wait. I needed to see her now. It was time to confront her; quietly, of course, this was a library. But not empty-handed. I got up from my bench and headed into Bearly Legal Cakes & Sweets. I grinned at the words written on the window: Cakes so Delicious, They’re Bearly Legal.
Sure enough, a bear shifter greeted me at the counter. Ivy had mentioned in the comments that her favorite flavor from this bakery was lemon chiffon, and sure enough, there was a cupcake version of it. I bought a pair of them.
With my offering safety hidden in my flat-bottomed satchel, I stepped out into the sunlight, headed over to the library, and walked confidently past the sign that read No Food or Drinks Allowed.
Chapter 9
Ivy
I closed my eyes and tried in vain to ignore the low voice. It sounded like Shane.
Then again, everything had been reminding me of Shane this past week. I kept seeing him everywhere, too. In the reflections of mirrors as I passed by, in the faces of people walking on the street.
But every time I paused to get a better look, I realized I’d been mistaken. He was never there. It was just that stupid love spell haunting me. I must have gotten hit with a bigger dose of it than I thought. Shane had gotten even more of it. Was he seeing me everywhere, too?
Finally I’d caved and cyberstalked him. Was I a little embarrassed about it? Maybe. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.
I wasn’t surprised at how many of his wildlife photos I’d actually seen before. You’d have had to have been living under a rock for the past ten years not to have seen them. His debut set, the one that had catapulted him to fame, were all images taken in his home forest. It was like a private snapshot of life there, and gave the viewer the sense that they were right there in the woods with the animals.
From there, he’d gone on location to many other parts of the world, capturing and sharing the natural wonder largely hidden from human eyes. He also worked with conservation groups raising awareness of various endangered species around the world.
His photos were always so intimate and detailed; like you’d been invited into the animals’ lives. They were like those day-in-the-life-of videos, except, well, better. His most recent project had been a series: “Extreme Landscapes and the Animals that Call Them Home”. It was impossible to go online without seeing photos from that set everywhere.
According to my internet research, Shane made quite a respectable living from his photos. He had a place here in Darlington—the gorgeous penthouse unit I’d bolted from last Sunday—and a country home on a big piece of land, the forest from his first project.
But while I found out a lot about Shane’s work, I couldn’t find much about his personal life, no matter how hard I tried. He attended many functions and events but when he did, he tended to keep to himself. There was no mention of who he had or hadn’t dated, though one celebrity gossip site wondered if he wasn’t interested in human women because he had a bevy of nymphs at his disposal, being a satyr and all.
The thought of him frolicking in his woods with a bunch of naked nymphs suddenly had me shoving the book in my hands back onto the shelf a little harder than I should. The magical tome next to it, upset at being pushed, shoved right back.
“Sorry,” I murmured, putting my hand apologetically on the leather-bound book.
That was the thing about working at the Library of Magic & Other Esoterica; disrespecting the wrong book could get you in trouble. Generally, most of the books on the floor were harmless. Ornery? Yes. But harmless. But there were some dangerous texts that were for reference only, and even a few that had to be viewed only by appointment, in specially warded rooms with one of our higher-level witches or wizards in attendance. Additionally, we were all trained on what to do if a magical emergency occurred.
Working here was definitely interesting, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Once, we had a long overdue book make its way back to us on its own. It had been part of a collection and couldn’t stand being away from the others so long. But sometimes I wished I had a little more magic at my disposal, especially when I saw what my coworkers could do.
I sighed when another softly spoken “excuse me” in a low, rumbly voice that sounded very much like Shane’s had me longing for him. I reminded myself firmly that Shane was not in my library. Just my imagination and a stupid spell playing a cruel joke on me.
My research had assured me that most generic love spells only lasted for a short time, and the effects usually dissipated faster when the two were not in contact, sometimes in a matter of days. I was not so lucky. It had been almost a whole week now, and Shane was still the only thing I could think about. I’d even lost my appetite. That was saying a lot, since I really loved my food.
There weren’t many people at the library right now since Fridays were usually quiet, and I couldn’t busy myself with helping some budding witch or University of Darlington student to stop me from thinking about Shane, so I focused on the books in the cart instead. They needed to go to their respective homes, and they weren’t going to do it on their on.
Despite all the magic at the staff’s disposal, we still had to reshelve most of these books the old-fashioned way. We didn’t allow any other magic in the library apart from any visitors’ glamour spells, and the protective wards that were already in place before our guests entered. Absolutely no casting or spell use at all.
Even the staff had to limit their magic use; so, no spelling the books to shelve themselves, not that I could have done that anyway. Some of the other librarians could. I couldn’t turn off my talent, it was always running in the background, but because it wasn’t an active spell, it didn’t disrupt things the same way and it wasn’t a problem.
I rolled my cart into the Occult section, found the aisle between philosophy of and historical practice of, and started putting away the first set of books. We usually told our visitors not to try to put the volumes back themselves as they often did it wrong, which made it harder for us to find them in the future. Misplacing something in a normal library was annoying; misplacing something here could be dangerous. Certain tomes needed to be kept together, like sisters bound by magic.
As I got up on tiptoe to put the next book onto the top shelf, I gasped when I saw the pair of amber eyes meeting mine from the other side of the shelf through a gap in the books. My brain told me it was just another visitor, like all the other false alarms I’d had in the past few days, but my heart was beating a mile a minute because I could swear those were Shane’s eyes. They were the golden honey of fossilized tree sap.
I didn’t have time to wonder because a few seconds later, Shane’s voice came through the stacks, barely more than a whisper. “Ivy?”
My belly flip-flopped at the sound of my name, my real name, coming from his lips.
“Shane?” I got on my tiptoes again, and our eyes met again. Holy crap, it wasn’t a hallucination. He was really here in my library! I wanted to squeal with joy, though that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not here.
With my brain numb, feeling kinda giddy, and completely unable to process anything, I blurted out the first thing that came to my lips. “Can I help you find something?”
