Chapter 2
Acup of coffee in my hand, I’m almost through the door into the already buzzing Lounge when I hear Carrel and Nolan’s voices drift up to me. I stop and turn around, my lips curling into a smile as I give my two Librarian colleagues a tip of my chin in greeting. Carrel — the tall, energetic wolf shifter throws me a grin, while Nolan — the smirking, pale vampire just walks up to me and starts lifting a fist to my upper arm.
As always, just like I was taught in my Krav Maga classes, I clench my muscles just before he gives me a punch in greeting. It hurts, but I manage to keep the smile on my face with only a slight gritting of my teeth. Everyone here already knows I’m completely defenseless against them. Hell if I’m going to be drawing any unnecessary attention to it.
“Missed you, Anna,” he says with a smirk, his eyes narrowing as they always do when he tries to get a reaction out of me like this.
“Aw, that’s cute.” Then I grin. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual though.”
They both laugh and the three of us walk into the Lounge together, the smile sliding off my face as soon as we do. After all, these two are among the most harmless of all my colleagues.
Her being the headmaster, we seem to still be waiting for the Pied Piper. As I take my seat at the round central table with the rest of the faculty members gathered for the meeting, my eyes dart to the front, where I find Serra Naehorn and Lorcan MacArthur sitting to the left and right of the empty headmaster’s seat, leaning over it to chat.
It’s not Serra I’m cautious of. Her cane leaned against the armrest of her chair, the sickly fae woman in a flowy blue jumpsuit and with blonde hair pulled into a tight bun seems to always be in pain, but she handles it with such stoicism and I’ve never seen her snap or be mean to anyone.
My biggest problem in this room is Lorcan, the stocky bear shifter with a crew cut who wears the traditional brown professor’s robe and his family’s signet rings with such insufferable pride. Of course, it’s not that which bothers me about him. After all, he does seem to be a conscientious professor and a good role-model to the kids, which I admire about him.
I see his eyes sweep over the room, locking with mine for a split second and narrowing in hatred.
That’s what bothers me. His unyielding prejudice against me as a human, despite all my efforts to dispel it.
I shrug it off, going back to enjoying my coffee and being too distracted to join in the chit-chat.
I guess you could say I haven’t been this nervous in a long, long time, but the mere sight of the Lounge is enough to get me battle ready.
When I first saw it, it seemed more than a little creepy, like I imagine any room doubling as a war room would. It’s large, circular and pretty dimly lit considering it’s still early afternoon, the only light coming through the arrow slits carved into the stone high above our heads. The table we’re sitting around is large and made of ancient-looking stone, its severity barely softened by the cozy, colorful armchairs placed along the walls.
But over the years, I started finding the room inspiring. So while we’re waiting for the meeting to start, I keep glancing around, reciting the arguments in favor of my case that I came up with while unpacking.
I know the Library like the back of my hand.
Last year the students named me Librarian of the Year.
I’m dedicated, responsible and passionate about the work.
What snaps me out of my ruminations is the chatter suddenly dying down. I know the Pied Piper has entered the room and my throat instantly tightens. I crane my neck to watch her unusually tall figure in a long black cloak glide over the rough stone floor and stop next to her chair at the front of the table.
I’ve been around Originals for three years now, but there’s something about this woman that still unsettles me. With her smooth pale skin, sharp angular jawline and shiny raven braid, Johanna de Groot looks barely over thirty. But however elusive they are, there are so many things about her that betray her actual age, which was three hundred and four years old when I last checked.
The way her eyes — the sharp, intelligent eyes of a predator — are sweeping over us as if we were little more than children placed in her care.
The way she carries herself — her movements slow to the point of seeming lazy, but the more you watch them, the more you see just how incredibly controlled and brimming with power they are.
Or the fact she barely ever goes to the effort of speaking, as if it almost never happens that something is actually worth saying.
This is it, I think as I watch her take her seat in silence. Her presence is unsettling for sure, but it also never fails to excite and inspire me.
The Pied Piper skims the paper with the minutes for the meeting placed in front of her and gives Serra — who’s not just the Professor of Divine Magic, but de Groot’s right hand as well — a barely perceptible nod to start the meeting.
A rush of thrill floods me from head to toe.
***
As the meeting drags on, I stay on high alert, waiting for the topic of the replacement to be broached. It’s becoming hard, especially since the Pied Piper’s buried her nose in her papers and is letting the children fight amongst themselves in tedious detail.
Finally, Serra concludes the current topic and says, her smooth, sandy voice echoing against the stone walls, “Now onto our next order of business — new arrivals and changes in faculty positions.”
Fuck yeah. There’s never any new arrivals, so it’ll be straight to the matter of my new role. I sit straight, inhaling deeply.
Serra glances around the table with a straight face. “This year, we have a new professor joining us.”
Huh? My eyebrows shoot up as an excited murmur rises all around me. Now everyone seems to be on high alert.
“And you’ve waited this long to tell us?” the scrawny Professor of Runology demands with a chuckle.
“Who is it? Is it O’Connor?” another professor chimes in.
Serra shakes her head. There’s this weird, tense little smile on her face as she says, “His name is Jericho Bane and he’ll be teaching Shapeshifting Studies.”
My eyebrows pull down, the name sounding familiar.
“Bane, you said?” Head of House of Lilith echoes. “As in Bane Incorporated?”
That makes the logo flash before my eyes — the stylized flame I’ve seen on everything from sports uniforms to fronts of casinos.
There’s a moment of silence before it bursts with questions from all around the table.
“Silence,” Lorcan snaps in his deep, guttural voice. “It’s undignified, to get yourselves worked up like this over some random man.”
I catch this weird look that Serra throws him, but Head of House of Lilith beats her to it. “You can say what you want about him, but he’s definitely not a ‘random man’.”
“I don’t care how rich he is,” Lorcan says with a glare in his direction. “As soon as he steps foot in this Academy, he’s lower status than any of the actual professors gathered here.”
I roll my eyes.
“I don’t understand why we’re even letting him come here,” the Professor of Runology agrees. “It’s questionable at best what kind of influence that kind of man will exert over our students.”
True. After all, Bane sounds like one of those shriveled-up old assholes sitting on the riches left to them by other shriveled-up old assholes, rubbing his palms while continuing the legacy of exploiting people’s weaknesses. So I myself am wondering why the Academy would hire someone like that. Playing politics or hoping for donations aren’t excuses enough, not for bringing that kind of man among impressionable students.
But gods, I can’t say I’m liking all this animosity…
Serra breathes a sigh. “Thankfully,” she says pointedly, “Mister Bane, or should I say Professor Bane, has been detained from coming to this meeting. I hope you’ll be on better behavior when you meet him at tonight’s Opening Ceremony.“ And there’s a finality in her voice when she continues, “But I believe you’ve all received my email about the Archivist.”
Finally. My colleagues don’t seem too happy about the change of subject, but they comply.
“Bloody hell,” Head of House of Lilith curses with a smirk. “Talk about timely notices.”
Serra ignores the remark. “We’ll be needing a replacement, of course,” she says, her eyes sweeping over us all. “Are there any Librarians who’d like to take the role on?”
I give the other potential candidates a chance to nominate themselves first, so as not to appear unfair or pushy.
To my surprise, no one does. Although, when I think about it, it is a tedious, solitary kind of work.
I inhale deeply. This is it, this is the moment. “I would, Professor Naehorn.”
The Pied Piper doesn’t look up from her papers, but everyone else’s eyes immediately dart to me, Lorcan’s being the ones filled with most contempt. Of course they would. He was the one most opposed to the Academy hiring a human Librarian.
There’s a second of silence as I muster the courage to keep going. “This will be my fourth year working as a Librarian here,” I start reciting, keeping my eyes locked with Serra’s, “I know the Library like the back of my hand—”
“Thank you, Miss Novak,” Serra cuts me off. It stings, but at least she’s smiling as she explains, “There’s no need, we all know each other here, don’t we?”
I don’t get a chance to react.
“And you’re a Scion,” I hear Lorcan add, disgust lacing his every word. My eyes dart to him. “So it’s enough that you’re in the role you’re in right now.” He leans back in his chair, looking around the table in search of approval. “I don’t think we should be giving you a promotion.”
My mind buzzing, I don’t look away, but with the corner of my eyes, I see others nodding away.
Fuck, he’s ruining this for me.
Quick, do something.
“Okay, alright,” I start, fighting to keep my breathing calm and my voice without poison, “so there are human men you’ll build statues of, but in my case, it’s the bloodline that’s problematic?”
Just as he’s about to snap something back at me, someone else’s voice makes him instantly shut his mouth.
“Miss Novak,” the Pied Piper drawls softly, making my head snap to the front of the table. Our eyes meet and blood curdles in my veins. She leans a little forward. “Brothers Grimm were visionary men,” she says in a slow voice, still staring into my eyes, “men who had the courage to seek us out, make us come out of hiding and suffer all the rage of the men who, at the time, would rather die than try to live peacefully with us.”
There’s a moment of silence during which all I can think about is that she was there when it happened.
Then, her lips curling into a smirk, she demands, “What is it that you did that makes you believe your two cases, as you say, are comparable?”
“Nothing,” I rush to say, cursing myself for making such a stupid error in judgment. “And if that’s how it came off, I sincerely apologize.”
For a second, we just stare at each other. Despite the urge to look away, I keep my eyes locked with hers.
Finally, she asks, “You really want the position, do you?”
Pressing my lips with determination, I nod. “I do.”
I hear Lorcan let out a scoff.
I grit my teeth and I keep looking at the Pied Piper, but I say, “I’m not asking for charity here.” I look around the table, determined to stand my ground. “You have no one else fighting for the position. If it turns out I can’t do the job, I’ll be the first to address the problem.” I pause, my tone dead serious as I say, “But I know I’m up to the task.”
I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I see the Pied Piper start slowly nodding away.
“Apologies, veneranda,” Lorcan cuts in, “but we can’t commit, at least not until she’s written her name in the Book of Librarians.”
It makes my blood boil when I see how pleased he is with himself.
“That’s not something we do,” Serra protests. “Not any longer, at least. It doesn’t come without dangers.”
“But it’s a good way to determine whether someone can be trusted,” Lorcan replies sweetly.
I turn my eyes back onto the Pied Piper. My shoulders slump when I see her lips curl into a mischievous little smile.
She nods.
Dammit.
It’s Serra that addresses me next. “Miss Novak, you’ll get access to the Restricted Section for the day. That’s plenty of time for you, even before the Opening Ceremony tonight. Do you accept this task?”
I glance at the Pied Piper, but she’s already going back to the papers in front of her.
“I’ll do it,” I turn to say to Serra.
With the corner of my eye, I can see the smug little smile on Lorcan’s face. He probably thinks I’ll fail the test.
I’ll give it my all if it’s the last thing I do, but hell… It makes me anxious just thinking about the Book’s magic.