13. Paige
Paige
B y lunch, Morris has flashed enough charming smiles at me that his dimples have dimmed.
I’m beginning to wonder what sort of world he comes from that he’s so very clearly hitting on a girl half his age.
But, at least, he seems content to waste away hours in the alchemy section, which means I have plenty of time to do my own research under the pretense of helping him with his.
Pouring over dusty tomes that haven’t been cracked in ages, I look for a spell that will send Aries home. Even if the idea of doing so eats away at me.
There's nothing specifically related to opening portals, or at least not in a way that will break through the Athenaeum’s massive defenses against it. From the sounds of it, the only way to conjure the portal we need is with the help of a keeper.
That means my only real option is sweet-talking either Blossom or Mag into doing me a favor so huge it could very well get us all thrown out and our memories wiped clean. If Hoc doesn’t kill Aries first.
Either way, I can’t imagine Blossom agreeing to help. Friendship or not, she hates her role here and refuses to do anything that might jeopardize her release.
Mag is too mysterious for me to assume anything. Although, he does owe me for covering for him the other night. And, this really is all his fault when you boil it down.
Had he not left me in charge, I never would have accidentally released the king of all dragons.
Even as I consider going to him, I hate myself for playing the blame game. This is one hundred percent a Paige fuck up. I mean, seriously, screwing shit up might as well be my calling card.
You need the world turned upside down? Give Paige a call! She can do it in ten minutes or less, or you get your money back!
Ugh. Now I’m annoying myself.
Morris passes on the offer to join me in the visitor’s lounge for a quick meal, and secretly, I’m relieved. An hour away from his wide smiles and not-so-subtle winks sounds nice.
The pain in my side is a dull reminder of last night, and the ‘better than Folgers’ way I woke up this morning. I reach up and rub it—then freeze when I see Blossom headed straight for me.
“You okay?” Blossom asks, frowning as I attempt to walk by her without grimacing.
“All good,” I say.
“You sure? You look...pained.”
“I fell in the damned shower,” I admit quietly, and she just grins.
“Did you break a hip, old lady?”
“Very funny. I’m going to lunch.”
“He’s not done yet?” she asks, nodding at where Morris still prowls the stacks in search of his next resource.
“No, and he turned down lunch. He’s apparently really dedicated to this mission of his.”
She frowns. “See you in an hour.” She glances past me to Morris and adds, “Don’t be late. Dude gives me perv vibes.”
Honestly, I can’t disagree. Though I do find it humorous that a blade-wielding unicorn shifter such as herself is creeped out by anyone at all.
Mag walks out of the break room just as I start to walk in.
“Hey,” I say, stepping back so we don’t collide.
He glowers. “What?”
“Whoa, why are you looking at me like I ran over your puppy?”
He glances around and then says in a low voice, “Your near-miss the other night was the first strike in a string of issues. Hoc is breathing down my fucking neck.”
“Near miss?” I swallow hard, pretending like his words don’t cause me panic. “I told you, a wyvern got sassy, and I put it in its place. That was it.”
“Yeah, well, we haven’t had a quiet night since and Hoc is up my ass for what he thinks started it all.”
“Shit, Mag. I’m sorry. I promise, there was nothing—”
“Yeah, I know.” He waves me off. “I’m just in a piss-poor mood. What’s up? You want to cheer me up?”
His brow arches, and I watch in real-time as he goes from snarly to flirty in the blink of an eye.
“Honestly, the way you’re able to transition from accusing me of screwing you to actually trying to screw me is impressive.”
He smirks, clearly not understanding that by impressive I meant disgusting. “Is that a yes?”
Ugh. Clearly, now is not the time to ask for a favor. Not when he just clarified what his terms would be.
“Get out of my way, Mag. You’re ruining my appetite.”
“Speaking of appetite, have you seen Blossom?”
“She’s babysitting a visitor in the alchemy section.”
He starts to head that way, so I call out, “She’s with a customer, you perv.”
“I like an audience,” he calls back and then disappears into the stacks.
I shuffle into the break room and go to work heating up my lunch, cursing my options for law-breaking keepers. Why can’t a girl convince her co-workers to bend a rule now and then?
* * *
At quarter to five, lights flicker overhead, signaling closing time. Mr. Morris looks up from the large book he’s been scouring for the last hour and blinks, bleary-eyed from the long day spent reading.
“Is that a signal of some kind?” he asks.
“It means we’re closing in fifteen minutes,” I tell him, stifling a yawn.
I haven’t had a customer stay this long in ages. Between the stillness of this section and the ache in my hip, the idea of hauling my ass all the way up to my apartment right now is exhausting.
“Right. Apologies.” He stands and grabs his jacket from where he draped it over the back of a chair earlier. “I shouldn’t have forced you to sit with me for so long. Your injury...” He trails off as I stand, wincing.
“It’s no problem,” I say.
He starts to collect the books we’ve pulled, but I wave him off. “No need,” I say. “We’ll re-shelve them tonight into their proper place.”
“I wonder if it would be easier to leave them since I'm planning to return tomorrow. I’d like to study this Ancient Alchemy through the Ages volume some more.”
“Oh.” My enthusiasm dims at the idea of being stuck up here a second day in a row. “Even so, we’re required to re-shelve nightly.”
“I see. Well, then, Miss Paige, it’s been a pleasure.”
He lifts his hat in a farewell gesture before moving toward the stairs that will take him to the main floor.
“I can escort you back to the front,” I say, but he’s already descending the narrow staircase, his pace quicker than it's been all day.
“No need. I can see myself out,” he calls back.
He’s gone before I can respond.
I exhale heavily, limping slowly toward the elevator that will take me back down to the first floor where I’ll simply cross to the west wall and ride another elevator right back up to my apartment.
The stiffness in my muscles make it sound like a slog of a journey even though it’s merely a few more steps before I’m home for the night.
Blossom is waiting for me on the first floor, her arms crossed as she studies me stepping off the vintage lift.
“That dude is creepy,” she announces in a voice that has me shushing her in case he’s still around.
“He’s clearly from a much different world than ours,” I say, not sure why I’m defending him. He was creepy. More times than not.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “What’s Mag’s excuse then? He’s creepy too.”
I smile ruefully. “Unrequited love?”
She snorts. “No way. That asshole doesn’t love. He lusts. Crudely and unashamedly.”
“I heard my name.” Mag steps out from the stacks like a jack-in-the-box, and I gasp.
Blossom glares at him. “Did you hear the part where I called you crude?”
“All I know is you’re thinking about me when I’m not around.” He smirks, and I glance between them, a plan forming.
A horrible fucking plan, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
“You know... Blossom has a birthday coming up,” I say, and Mag’s eyes light with the information.
“What the hell,” Blossom hisses at me. “That’s not his business.”
“Isn’t it?” I ask innocently. “We work together, spend a lot of time together—I think that makes us friends.”
Blossom’s face flushes. She’s going to kill me. But if this works...
“Anyway, we should all go out for a drink. Toast the birthday girl.”
Blossom’s anger turns smug as she says, “You know as well as I do that we’re not allowed to socialize outside of work. Or have you forgotten the rules a keeper must follow?”
“Relax, I know a great little bar where no one would know us,” I tell her.
“You know a bar?” Mag asks, and I school my features so he doesn’t see my irritation at the jab.
“Just because I haven’t been anywhere doesn’t mean I don’t hear things,” I say. “There’s this world called Astronia. It's without modern technology and untouched by the other worlds, meaning they can’t detect keeper magic. We’d be flying under the radar the whole time.”
“Astronia, huh?” Mag looks like he’s actually considering it. “What do you say, Blossom? Birthday shots for the birthday girl? I might even luck out and get you in your birthday suit.” He winks.
“I am not drinking with him,” Blossom declares and stalks off.
My disappointment is nothing compared to what flashes in Mag’s eyes before he schools his features. The look of hurt is gone so fast, but it’s surprisingly real.
“I’ll talk to her,” I say.
“Don’t bother.” He slips back into the stacks without another sound.
Alone, I head upstairs, thoughts buzzing around my failed idea. If there is a way to convince them to open that portal, then there's also a chance I can get Aries through it too. No one will ever have to know about my mistake.
The problem is convincing Blossom to go anywhere with Mag. Especially on her birthday. But I’ve done harder things. Like resisting morning sex with the hot, well-endowed dragon king in my bed this morning.
If I can do that, I can do anything.
Right?
* * *
My apartment is quiet as I let myself in. It's also a complete mess. Bowls and cups are stacked and strewn across the coffee table. Hats and jackets from my hall closet are in heaps on the floor.
Annoyance burns through me as I follow the trail of items into my bedroom where I find even more mess.
My comforter is on the floor. The dresser has been cleared off, all its contents in small piles beside it. And the bookshelf I’d packed with romance novels is now empty. Instead, books are piled high along the wall beside it.
My eyes land on the bookshelf’s angle and the way it’s been pulled out from the wall. Directly above it, a chunk of ceiling is missing, leaving behind a gaping hole that leads to who-knows-where.
I have a feeling Aries knows where. Dammit.
Heart pounding, I cross the room and peer up into the darkness.
“Hello?”
No answer.
“Aries?”
There’s shuffling from inside the ceiling, and then drywall rains down in dusty flakes as Aries appears through the hole.
“Paige, you’re back.”
“What the hell are you doing in the ceiling? And why does my apartment look like it was ransacked?”
He climbs down feet first, using the bookshelf for support before swinging himself easily to the floor.
Then he smacks his hands to dust them off.
His clothes—a pair of shorts that are oversized on me but way too tight on him, and a t-shirt that looks painted onto his large, muscled arms—are coated in dust.
Honestly, the thirst trap that is Aries, King of Dragons makes me care less about the mess in my apartment. I should be furious, but that fury makes way for heart-pounding lust.
Especially when he raises his blue gaze to mine. “I’ve been investigating all of the possible ways the intruder could have gotten in last night. I think I found something.”
I stare at him. “You think whoever it was came in through the ceiling and then—what? Patched it up as he left?”
“Not exactly. There’s a narrow passage behind your closet, did you know that?”
“Are you serious?”
“I’ll show you.” He leads me back to the entryway where a small coat closet stands beside my front door, and, sure enough, when he opens the closet door, the back wall is now a gaping hole.
“How did you find this?” I ask, staring in horror.
“My dragon can sense things like empty space.” His expression darkens. “Especially if it feels confined.”
Shit. His dragon is probably going crazy in this tiny-ass apartment. I hadn’t even thought of that. Of how it must feel to be unable to access a part of you.
“This passage opening is cut directly into the wall with a door that slides free if you apply pressure here.” He demonstrates and I watch as the door slides shut, looking like nothing more than the back wall of an old closet.
“Holy shit. I never knew,” I say.
“With everything you had shoved in here, it was impossible to notice.”
The jackets. Now I understand why they’re littering my floor.
“Do you know where it leads?” I ask, fear lacing my tone. I shove it aside in favor of irritation at the mess. “And did you seriously have to destroy my apartment?”
“It was necessary,” he replies quickly, though he doesn’t bother to explain just why he needed to turn my entire place upside down when the empty space he sensed is in my closet. “And no idea where it leads yet. I didn’t want to use this entrance in case someone else is monitoring the other end.”
I cross my arms. “So, you made a hole in the ceiling instead?”
“I had hoped to catch a scent,” he explains. “Something I can track. But there’s nothing.”
“Does that mean no one’s used it?” I ask hopefully.
“That,” he says slowly, “Or they’re using magic to cover their tracks.”
The weight of the day feels too heavy to hold up any longer. I sigh. “I need to sit.”
He rushes over and wraps an arm around my waist. “You’re in pain.” He guides me out into the living room, sets me on the couch, and helps me prop my feet up on the coffee table, then proceeds to hover like a worried mother. It’s adorable, though I don’t tell him that.
The relief at being off my feet—and hip—is enough to make me groan in appreciation.
“Not in pain anymore.” I offer a tight smile, but it only seems to make him more unhappy.
“Stay here.” He walks into the kitchen, and I listen as he rummages around. A moment later, he returns with a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and a glass.
“You’ve made yourself at home,” I joke as he goes to work uncorking the bottle.
He looks up, and understanding dawns. His glance slides guiltily to the stacked dishes and cups then back to me. “Apologies for the mess, I... my beast... cataloging treasures calms him.”
He goes back to work on the wine bottle, but I reach over and grab his wrist, halting him.
The way he says it, the embarrassment on his face, has guilt over my initial reaction settling on my shoulders. I’ve expected this man—this dragon—to settle into a lifestyle that is not his own, in a world where he doesn’t belong.
“Aries,” I say, “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Your dragon is welcome to do whatever he needs to feel comfortable here. I know he must hate being stuck like this.”
“Thank you for understanding.” Something flashes in his eyes, an emotion I don’t expect and can’t quite bring myself to name, and then he goes back to pouring the wine.
I let him, too exhausted from the day to try and decipher what just happened. Something tells me my acceptance of his weird dragon quirks has just earned me a new level of trust. I just have no idea what to do with it.