7. Paige
Paige
I sleep like shit, tossing and turning until I nearly give in and grab my earbuds with the idea that listening to an audiobook might help. But then I remember what a disaster that led to last night. And nearly the day before that, if I'm being honest.
Ugh.
Hoc was already right once—saying that my audiobooks were a dangerous distraction. I’m not going to make that true a second time.
I groan, the throbbing between my legs growing tenfold when I picture the tall, hot, and half-naked dragon currently sleeping just outside my room.
I swear, I think my blue balls are worse than any male’s.
Years’ worth of listening to other people get theirs has left a giant dick-sized hole in my heart—or something like that.
Finally, the light outside my window begins to change with the coming dawn.
It lures me like a Bat-Signal, and I toss back the covers to stumble over to the view.
My sheer curtains are a formality; I know full well the glamour that protects this building is impenetrable.
To the outside world and the humans in it, the walls housing the Athenaeum appear droll and forgetful.
Sure, the architecture matches the rest of downtown Boston, a description that lands somewhere between classical Colonial and modern rehab.
But the magic is about more than appearance.
It’s about the literal repulsion it causes anyone who looks directly at it.
The moment they try, something in their mind directs them away again.
The human mind is such a fragile thing, easily influenced and awfully short-sighted.
The real irony is that most don’t even need the magic to pass us by without a second thought.
Their obsession over their own lives—the self-centered immersion they feel toward their devices and their own petty problems—is protection enough.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t born witness to it my entire life from this very window. I’ve spent hours studying human behavior from this very spot, and my conclusion is that, while living up here can be lonely at times, I don’t belong down there. I’m not one of them.
That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the scenery their world has to offer.
The view, beyond the pedestrians crossing this way and that, is stellar. Today, the hazy morning offers no more than a glimpse of the harbor that lies at the end of this busy street. I’ve never been out there, but Hoc assures me it’s not worth the trip.
Something I seriously doubt.
Worth it or not, I’m stuck here. As much a part of the Athenaeum as any book on its shelf. A prisoner in this opulent jail cell.
Turning away from the window, I shower and dress. My house guest hasn’t made a sound from the living room, and I alternate between wanting him gone forever and worried he left after my stunt last night.
But damn. That kiss. That was the lip-smacking, world-tilting, heart-racing, panty-dropping thing of romance novels. Unfortunately, I’m all too aware that mine is not a love story.
By the time I emerge from my bedroom, I feel slightly more in control. A leather jacket and charcoal eyeliner tend to do that—or at least offer me an illusion of it, anyway.
Aries is sprawled on the couch, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s still here. Though, maybe I shouldn’t be happy about it. I still have to get through today without anyone finding out what I’ve done. Maybe admitting my mistake to Hoc is the best way to handle this. Maybe he can—
No. I shake off the thought immediately, fear clogging my throat. Hoc has never shown an inch of mercy where the books are concerned. And I can’t stomach the thought of Aries getting hurt.
I tell myself it’s because it’s my fault he was ripped from his world. That if he is hurt or killed for my transgression, then his death will weigh fully on my shoulders.
But I know that if I examine that reasoning closer, I’ll see that it’s something else entirely. So, I do what I do best: I ignore it and make my way to the kitchen to start the coffeepot. After all, caffeine fixes everything.
Like Windex in My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
The rustling of a blanket on the couch sends a jolt through me. I don’t look up, though. Not even when I hear him come into the kitchen. My skin prickles with the sensation of his gaze on me, but I concentrate on pouring the coffee, mixing the cream.
Aries doesn’t say a word. Somehow, that’s worse.
Finally, there’s nothing left for me to do but turn and face him. With a mug in each hand, I do just that, with the addition of plastering a stiff smile on my face.
“Morning,” I say, way too chipper for a girl who threw herself at a man-god last night with absolutely zero shame.
“Good morning,” he says, studying me warily. I can’t blame him. He likely can’t decide whether I’m going to jump him or not. Shit, what if he has a girlfriend back home? A wife?
Mortification sneaks up my spine. “Coffee?” I hold out a mug; a peace offering.
He takes it and sips gingerly at first. His eyes widen. “This is good.”
I smirk. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can make a hell of a cup of java.”
“Java,” he repeats as if committing the word to memory. How the hell can this man make that word sound so sinfully sexy?
I sip my coffee, letting the caffeine do its thing to hopefully clear my head. “So, listen. I’m sorry about last night. I can’t imagine your girlfriend would have appreciated me attacking you like I did.”
His brows furrow, and I hate that it’s so damned adorable. “Girlfriend?”
“Wife, then?”
“I am not married,” he replies. “I haven’t found my mate yet.”
Mate. Of course! Dragons mate for life. Like wolves, vampires, and nearly every other supernatural. Everyone but me, apparently. “Oh. Well. Then, I’m sorry. For attacking you.”
Aries’s eyes blaze like blue fire. “I did not feel attacked.”
Damn. “Good. Still. Sorry.”
“Understood.” He takes a drink of his coffee. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Great.” Lie . “You?”
He frowns, and something flickers behind his dark gaze. “This world is loud.”
“Is it?” I cock my head, listening to the muted sounds of traffic from the street outside. “I don’t notice it.”
I gulp more coffee, checking the time. Considering the level of awkwardness in this kitchen, maybe today will be my first time arriving early to work. I set aside my mug, deciding to get more when I’m downstairs, and head for the door.
Aries does the same. “Where are we going?”
“Whoa, not we,” I say, stopping short and holding up my hand. “Me.” I pull my hand back before his bare chest can run into it. I’m strong but not that strong.
“I cannot stay here,” he says, and if I weren’t so determined to get away from his sexy ass, I might smile at the way he’s pouting.
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” He opens his mouth, clearly determined to argue, so I press on. “Remember our talk last night? No one can know you’re here.”
“Or they will hunt me. Yes, yes, I remember.” But he doesn’t look even close to agreeing with me on this.
I sigh. “I know it’s not ideal and my place is kind of small, but you have to stay here today.”
“And where will you go?”
“Downstairs. I have to work. If I don’t show up for my shift, Hoc will come looking for me.”
His eyes narrow. “Who is this Hoc?”
“He’s like my dad,” I say, struggling to explain without triggering a million more questions. “And he runs the library.”
“I thought the library runs itself.”
“It does. But he’s the head librarian in charge of making sure everything remains in order.” And the books remain shut. Ugh.
“So he is your superior?”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“I need to go down and pretend everything’s fine,” I say, dodging his question.
“And then you will return,” he says uncertainly.
“As soon as my shift ends, I’ll be back. And tonight, once Hoc leaves, we can work on finding a way to get you home.”
He grunts, clearly not a fan of staying put. I walk over and pick up the remote, powering on the television. The screen comes to life—a baseball game. Aries’ eyes widen as he stares at the screen. Human amenities for the win.
“What is this miracle?” he breathes.
“Baseball.”
“Baseball?” He takes a step toward the screen.
“A re-run of last night’s game. If you want something different, hit this button,” I tell him, shoving the remote into his hands. “I’ll check on you soon.”
He doesn’t respond, and I decide now is as good a time as any to make my exit. Here’s hoping dragons like daytime TV.
* * *
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that Blossom nearly gives me a heart attack when she corners me in the vampire section and says, “I know what you did last night.”
My legs threaten to buckle right there as I squeak, “What?”
She glares at me. “You covered for Mag,” she hisses.
“Oh.” I exhale, thoroughly relieved, which only makes her seem to glare harder.
“Oh? That’s all you have to say? Paige, you know you aren’t cleared for keeper duty.”
“I know. I just thought maybe...” I trail off, fully aware of how stupid it will sound now that I’m saying it aloud. Especially given what actually happened last night.
The scope of my fuck up knows no bounds. Which means I am not the keeper I thought I could be. And that realization hits. Hard.
“You thought Hoc would forgive your little stunt last week if you played grown-up?” Her words are snarky, but her tone lacks all condescension. She’s worried about me. And that makes me feel even worse.
“Maybe.”
She smirks. “I mean, it’s not the worst idea.” Her smile drops. “Unless, of course, a book decided to make a break for it.”
Oh shit. I try not to wince. “Nothing happened.”
“Hmm.” Her reproachful look lasts another few seconds, and then, like a switch being flipped, she lets it go and moves on. “What was Mag doing, anyway? Was it buy one get one free hooker night or something?”
I snort as we fall into step together, patrolling the stacks. “No idea. You know how mysterious he is.”
“Shady, you mean.”
I don’t tell her about his brother’s playoff game. I’ve known Mag my whole life, and last night was the first personal detail he’s ever shared with me. As trivial as the detail may be, I can’t bring myself to break his trust when he’s only so recently given it to me.
Blossom doesn’t seem to notice, though. For the next half hour, we chat about her.
More accurately, she chats, and I listen.
Blossom is here as punishment for breaching a portal from her world to another—a grave offense by any world’s standards, but entry into this one was apparently extra forbidden.
She snuck through a portal that led to a world full of unicorn shifters like her.
Or so she’d thought. Except that, when she’d arrived, all she’d found were remains.
The world had died off hundreds of years ago, and no one had told her.
I suspect her rage at being sentenced here as a keeper is partly a cover for her sorrow.
I can’t blame her. All she’d wanted was to know where she came from, to find her own kind.
Instead, she’d learned how truly alone she is.
And now she’s stuck here, tasked with making sure no one else leaves their world either.
It sucks.
So, I let her complain until we break for lunch. At least, it takes my mind off the dragon currently discovering the American pastime of baseball in my apartment.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t notice Hoc until he’s come into the break room behind me and blocked the exit.
“There you are,” he says, and I jump, the move sending lettuce and tomato flying as I nearly drop my salad.
“You startled me,” I say, gasping for breath. Heart pounding, I hurry to clean up my mess.
“Are you all right?” Hoc asks.
“Fine,” I say, “Great. What’s up?”
“I haven’t seen you all morning.”
“Busy day,” I say, way too chipper.
“Right.” He hesitates.
I force myself to meet his eyes, focusing on my breaths. Hoc is supernatural with senses to match. If he notices my heart rate is trying out a techno beat, he’ll know something’s up. “Is there something else?”
“I only wanted to say I’m very proud of you for the work you’re doing.” He softens. “The smooth past couple of days are a testament to your commitment and ability. Keep this up and you’ll be elevated to keeper, I’m sure of it.”
The guilt nearly drags me to my knees. “Thank you,” I tell him.
“I saw the report this morning,” he goes on. “Mag had a near-miss last night.”
“Oh?” My voice comes out way too high.
“When I asked him about it, he admitted the long shifts are getting to him. We are definitely spread thin here. I think we’re all looking forward to adding you to our ranks to help balance things out.”
“I’m just glad everything is in order,” I tell him. The lie is bitter on my tongue. Letting Mag take the fall for my fuck up—even if no one here knows the full gravity of it—Mag included—is so damn wrong.
But Mag isn’t on his last strike.
And Mag won’t have his memory wiped if he fucks up one more time.
I am, and I will. So, I let it slide and make a mental note to owe him a shit-ton of covered shifts once I do finally become a keeper.
“As am I. The last thing we need is another extrication on our hands. I’m too old to slay anything anymore.” He pauses, and I shudder, thinking of Hoc and Aries coming to blows. “Anyway, keep up the good work.”
I offer a slight nod. “Will do,” I call as he walks out.
When he’s gone, I sink into the plastic chair and stare down at my salad as if it’s my last supper. One wrong move and it damn well will be. I have to get Aries home—tonight. Both our lives depend on it.