Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Sidney was trying very, very hard not to have the very first full-on, knock-down, drag-out panic attack of her life.
She was standing with her back squished up to the end of a bookcase, staring at a man who was, to his credit, very politely standing some fifteen feet away from her with a gentle and apologetic smile on his face.
One minute she’d been standing in her hotel room. The next minute, an impossible weird-ass book had opened up, and—and then a hand, and now…she was here.
In an enormous library. The sun was shining through stained-glass windows at the end of each row, the bright light glinting off the polished blond wood bookcases that lined the space in rows.
The floor was a white and black marble, and the whole space felt airy and warm and open. Cozy, inviting, and…safe.
Which was hysterical, given the situation.
It was probably part of the reason she hadn’t launched into total hysterics now that her whole concept of reality had just been entirely fucked.
The other part of the reason might have had something to do with the fact that the man standing in front of her was the single most handsome thing she had ever seen in her goddamn life.
He was gorgeous. There was no way around it.
Perfect jaw. Perfect smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, fit.
He had sandy-blond hair that fell around his face in just the slightest of waves.
It gave him a look that was halfway between a clothes model and a cherub.
His eyes were a light hazel that kind of reminded her of her own, a color that looked almost amber-gold in the warm light of the library.
He was dressed in a white suit, white vest, white tie, and black shirt. A yellow rose was tucked into his lapel.
The smile on his face was stuck halfway between empathy for her suffering and a clear apology for having something to do with it. “Are you all right, Miss Lancaster?”
God, and his voice was like hot cocoa on a cold day. Just smooth and tenor and perfect. Sidney had no shortage of lovers in her life, but this one was setting new standards for what she considered her type of man. She couldn’t help but stare.
“I—I deeply apologize.” He placed a hand to his chest and bowed his head. “I understand that this is all unsettling and confusing, and that to someone from your world, this is very upsetting.”
“Is my sister okay?”
The smile that lit up his face almost stopped Sidney’s heart. “That’s your first concern? Her?”
“I know I’m fine right now. I don’t know if she’s okay. So yeah, that’s my first concern.”
“She’s probably very scared. But she’s unharmed.” That beautiful smile faded to something morose and regretful. “She’s with my…brother. He needs her, so he won’t hurt her.”
There was a fuckton of shit to unpack there, but that brought her to her next question. “Who are you?”
“Well, there are two things to cover there, sadly.” He sighed.
“One’s more complicated than the other. Can I get you something to drink?
Would you like to sit down? Somewhere more comfortable than—than this?
” He gestured at the library. “It’s my home, but I know it isn’t exactly the most charming place to sit and chat. ”
Buddy, I’d follow your tight ass anywhere.
He chuckled quietly and glanced down at his feet.
And if she wasn’t mistaken…did he just blush?
Did his cheeks just go a little pink?
Had she said that out loud?
No. No, she hadn’t. No way in hell. She wasn’t that awkward. She hadn’t smacked her head on the trip into the wherever-the-fuck-she was.
Shaking her head, she put her hand to her temple and let out a breath. “Yeah. Actually, a drink and a place to sit sounds great. I have a feeling you’re going to have to explain a lot of things to me that are going to be really hard to accept.”
“To put it mildly.” He turned from her with a sheepish smile and gestured for her to follow him. “This way, Miss Lancaster.”
“You can call me Sidney.” She followed him, and yeah—she did appreciate the view. Especially in a nicely tailored white suit. “Or Sid, if I’m going to be stuck here for a while.” She paused. “Let’s start with that. How long am I going to be stuck here?”
“I…honestly don’t know. I wish I had an answer to that.” His shoulders drooped. “This is all my brother’s doing. He can’t just ever be content. But I guess that’s just…his lot in life. I brought you here in hopes that we could save your sister from him.”
They quickly reached a dead end, at the row of old and ancient rows of books. She was confused for a moment before he reached out and pulled one out. It hinged at the bottom, and the bookcase spun, like all those hidden passageways in movies that she figured never actually existed in real life.
As it opened inward, it revealed a living room on the other side. Something that looked straight out of an episode of some BBC cozy period drama, set in a manor house in the countryside. A fire was burning low in the hearth, and tea was already set out on the coffee table.
Looking around, she corrected herself. The building was way more out of a Regency romance novel. The ones that always had an alliterative title for some reason like The Dashing Duke or The Enticing Earl or whatever.
The man stepped into the room and gestured wide with his hand to allow her to walk in front of him. She did, shaking her head, stunned at what she saw. There was no way that this house was attached to that library. It made no structural sense.
It was impossible.
But she’d been pulled through a book. Into a library.
And into possibly another book. Sidney laughed quietly.
“I hope you’ve got vodka in that tea.” The only reason she wasn’t screaming and throwing things was the fact that she really did feel safe around this guy, whoever he was.
He just had a…vibe, for lack of a better word.
“I can make that happen.” The man closed the bookcase behind him, and just like magic, it disappeared into the wall like it was never there.
Magic.
“You’re right. It is magic, to a certain extent, what I’m doing.”
“I didn’t say that out loud. I know I didn’t.” Sidney walked over to the sofa and sat down, her knees feeling weak. The piece of furniture looked like it should be an antique, but the way it felt under her, it was clearly brand new.
She felt like she was going to cry.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying not to cheat, but it’s hard.
” The man walked around to the coffee table and poured her a cup of tea.
Pulling a flask from the inside of his coat pocket, he poured a clear liquid into her cup before sliding it to her and tucking the flask back into his coat. “It’s tempting, when it’s right there.”
“What is?”
“Your thoughts.”
“I…” Sidney stared at him. “You can hear my thoughts?”
“No, but I can read them.” He waved his hand. “It’s—it’s complicated. Please. Just. Let’s start at the beginning.” He sat down in the chair across from her, giving her space, before pouring himself his own cup of tea. “First, you can call me Virtue.”
“Bullshit.” She snorted. “Your real name isn’t Virtue.”
“You’re right. It isn’t.” His smile was kind of sad. “I don’t have a real name. I picked that myself.”
Well, now she felt like an asshole. “What do you mean, you don’t have a real name?” Picking up the tea, she sniffed it. Yep, Earl Gray and vodka. It’d do. She took a sip. It was good. And hopefully it’d settle her frazzled nerves.
“Because I’m not…real, you see. Not like you. You were born, you were named, you grew up, you had experiences of your own.” He furrowed his brow and stared down into his tea. “I’m made up of all the things your kind have ever written down. The stories you tell yourselves and each other.”
Sidney stared at him for a long time. “You’re…fiction...come to life?” Oh, she was going to seriously need more vodka. And maybe weed. If she hadn’t just seen everything she’d already seen today, she’d have laughed in his goddamn pretty face.
“Part of it.”
There was a choice in front of her. She could either claim everything that was happening to her was nonsense, throw the tea in the guy’s face, and start screaming and crying in total hysterics. And probably get herself and her sister killed in the process.
Or she could strap herself onto the crazy train and go along for the ride. Worst case scenario, she got made fun of when all of this was revealed to be an elaborate setup for a TV show. Or a drug trip.
Letting out a breath, she committed to the latter. Just accepting the weirdness was safer. Panicking and freaking out about the impossible wasn’t going to solve anything. “What part are you?”
The smile that lit up his face was one of absolute pride. “I’m every hero of every story, all rolled into one.”
“So that’s why you look like fucking Prince Charming?” That cracked her up, though she didn’t know why.
“I don’t see you complaining. Far from it!
” He pouted. Actually pouted. “I can’t help how I look, I’m just what you people write me to be!
Do you know how many romance novels exist these days?
A thousand more show up every day! Every hour!
And some of them—” Virtue broke off in a heavy sigh and stared into his tea, still pouting. “Never mind.”
That made her laugh harder. God, he was adorable. She sipped her tea as her laughter faded to a broad smile. Yeah. It was hard to panic around him.
But then a thought hit her that killed the smile on her face faster than a lead balloon’s maiden flight coming to a swift end. “Wait.”
“Hm?” He looked up from his tea. At the look on her face, he frowned. “Oh.”
“If you’re…every hero…”
Virtue took a deep breath, held it, and with the exhale, let out his words in a rush. “I should tell you about my twin.”
Tilting her head away from the monster in front of her, Sasha brought the heavy book she was holding up between them, using the spine to smash him in the nose as hard as she could.
“Ow!” The man staggered away from her a few steps, holding his face. “No fair, using the scene break!”
“What?” He was a monster and a psychopath. Fantastic. Just great. But her smacking him with the book had accomplished her goal, which was to get him to back off.
“Cheap shot.” He checked his fingers, as if looking for blood. He touched his nose again, checking a second time. “Couldn’t see it coming,” he muttered.
“If—if I’m inside a book, and you’re every villain—that means I’m inside every book?” She held the book up like she was going to smack him with it again, though she had a real suspicion it wasn’t going to work a second time.
Content that at least his nose wasn’t bleeding, he focused his attention back on her.
“Yes.” He gestured to the library around him.
“Welcome to all of fiction itself. This, eh, dimension, if you will, consists purely of all the stories your kind has ever told. You can imagine how large and bizarre it grows, day by day.” He grinned wickedly.
She gripped the book harder. “I’d like to come down from whatever drugs that book was covered in.” She was tempted to squeeze her eyes shut or slap herself in the face to try to wake herself up, but she didn’t dare take her gaze off the guy in front of her. “Wake up, Sasha. Wake up.”
“You believe I’m a product of a bad trip?
” He arched a thin black eyebrow. “I hate to disappoint you, but this is very real. And nothing is to be gained from refusing to play along now, is there? Either you are high, in which case, welcome to most Victorian literature, and if you aren’t—well, you’ll get nothing accomplished by sitting in the corner and weeping. ”
Damn it, he was right. Playing along with her bad trip, if that’s what this was, didn’t hurt anything.
“Fine. Let’s assume for a minute that this is real, because for now, it seems like I’m stuck here.
Let’s also assume that you’re ‘every villain rolled into one.’ What do you want with me? Why did you drag me here?”
“That’s the spirit.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “But first, follow me.” Turning on his heel, he headed away from the dead-end aisle and disappeared around a corner, humming a tune to himself.
The guy was abrupt, to say the least. Should she stay where she was? Or follow him? If she wanted answers—and any hope of getting home—she supposed she had to follow him.
And if this was all just a product of her drug-addled mind? She had to admit he wasn’t too far off from all the extremely handsome villains she’d dreamt up over the course of her life. With a beleaguered sigh, she followed after him.
Turning the corner, she saw him disappear down another aisle. She had to jog to catch up with him. When she finally did, she saw him browsing a section of books, tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully, looking for something.
“Do you have a name?” She studied him curiously. The lighting cast him in sharp shadows, making him look even more unsettling and eerie, not like he needed the help. She kept her distance, but she knew it wouldn’t save her if he put his mind to it.
“You may call me Vile.” He was clearly half paying attention to her, half still searching for the right book. “Though I know it sounds silly to your ears, it’s the best I’ve managed over the centuries for myself. Grown rather fond of it, I must say.”
“So you really aren’t human?” She suspected as much, but it was good to have it confirmed. “You’re more like a demig—”
“Ah-hah! There it is.” Vile pulled a book from the shelf.
The floor opened up underneath her feet without warning.
The last thing she saw as she fell, screaming into the darkness, was his smiling face as he waved goodbye.