19. Paige #2
Shit. “Um, exactly how long does this spell take to work?” I ask.
If only they knew the last person to open that book was not Morris but rather the woman standing less than a foot away.
Hoc frowns. “Not long, hopefully.” He looks at Blossom. “Call a staff meeting. All available hands. This is a Level Five Priority. When this Morris returns, we want to know he’s coming so we can be ready.”
“On it.”
She and Hoc hurry off, and I watch them go, a lump growing steadily in my gut until it’s a full-blown brick. This is not going to end well, I know it.
* * *
By the time I manage to make my way up to my apartment, I’m too exhausted to worry about whether or not some shadow killer waits for me in the hall.
After a day of waiting on pins and needles for that damn locator spell to expose me, I am both mentally and physically drained.
Not to mention the way I opened and closed that book earlier when I shouldn’t be capable.
My mind is so full of questions, and the worst part is that I can’t ask Hoc any of them. The one person who might have answers is the same person who I can’t let find out about any of it.
The stress leaves me distracted and cranky. In fact, if a shadow killer showed up right now, I’d probably just walk right through his ethereal ass without breaking stride.
Fortunately, I don’t have to make that decision, and the hallway is clear, so I let myself into my apartment, still drowning underneath the weight of it all.
Aries is waiting just inside the door, arms crossed. “You’re late.”
“I had a fucking day,” I say wearily. “I’m assuming it’s safe to be here, or else you’d be hauling me over your shoulder like a caveman.”
“What’s a caveman?”
“Ugh. I don’t have the energy to fight with you,” I warn as I move around and head straight into my bedroom. “I haven’t showered in nearly two days, and I spent all damn day worried that the tracker spell Hoc placed on that book was going to track me down and not the asshole it was meant for.”
He trails after me. “Why would it track you?”
“I’m showering first.” I slam the door behind me and head straight into the bathroom. Honestly? If it wouldn’t make more work for me, I would have stepped straight into the shower—clothes and all.
Ten minutes later, I’m stepping out of my bedroom wearing plaid pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt with the words I believe in Tad Cooper printed on the front along with a bearded dragon in orange.
My comfort outfit. Perfect for a night of uncomfortable conversations. Because even if I can’t tell the others, at least Aries will listen and understand without judging me or worse—punishing me.
“Listen, Aries—” I look up and stop in my tracks as horror and shock war in my stomach in a swirling frenzy.
Hoc stands in my living room beside Aries, a glass baking dish in his hand.
He’s left his robe behind for once and is instead dressed in khakis and a button-up, which is pretty much his most casual and normal look.
But that’s where the normalness ends. Because his lips are quirked in a strange smile, his brow arched.
And the fact that he’s standing here beside my new dragon booty call is the most un-normal thing I’ve ever seen.
Shitballs.
“Paige.” He is only a foot taller than my dragon, which is impressive given he’s basically a giant.
But right now, I can’t be bothered with that fun fact.
Not when panic is making me wish Aries would douse me in fire so I could incinerate myself right where I stand.
I seriously consider throwing myself into the mysterious stalker passageway in my closet and never coming out again.
When I finally manage to utter real words, what comes out is, “Shit.”
Hoc turns to Aries and chuckles. “Humorous, right?”
Aries snorts. “It was.”
I glare at him because he’s showing no signs at all of worrying about his inevitable death-by-father-figure even though he should be, and then I turn back to Hoc. “I can explain. Hoc, this is—this is my—Aries this is Hoc.”
Without waiting for an answer, I move into the kitchen and grab a glass. Then I open a bottle of wine and fill my cup to the brim.
“We’ve met,” Hoc says as he sets the glass dish on my counter. “What I’m more curious about is why you felt the need to hide him from me. I know you’re a grown woman, Paige. You could have been open with me about your new friend.”
“Ugh.” The suggestive way he says ‘ friend ’ makes me cringe. Over Hoc’s shoulder, Aries makes a face like he’s trying to pretend he’s not enjoying this, which only makes it all worse.
I lean closer to Hoc and whisper, “Can we not have the birds and bees conversation?”
Hoc grins. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He removes the foil covering his infamous wildebeest casserole, and my stomach grumbles traitorously. “Good thing I made plenty. Come on, let’s eat.” He shoots me a knowing look and gestures to my glass of wine. “Drink up, darling. You’ll feel better.”
Aries actually snorts at that.
“Do not say a word,” I warn him, moving aside when Hoc returns with a serving spoon and goes to work, dishing up the food.
Thankfully, dinner is less murdery than I expect.
Aries compliments Hoc on the meal and then the two of them share a friendly conversation about baseball.
Which, thanks to his new TV obsession, Aries is able to discuss without alluding to the fact that he’d literally never seen it before a few days ago.
Not once does Hoc ask Aries where he’s from or how we met.
But neither does he seem suspicious about those things either.
By the time we’re finished, I’ve convinced myself that just maybe we’ve gotten away with this.
And for some reason, that thought is what pushes me over the edge.
Maybe it’s insanity and I’ve finally snapped, or maybe I’m desperate to have Hoc on my side again so he can give me answers, but either way, I can’t let this lie go on.
“I’ll handle clean up,” Aries offers as he stands and gathers our plates. I don’t argue or insist on helping because having a few moments alone with Hoc is what I need to alleviate this weight on my chest.
He’s always been there for me.
And I’ve repaid him by lying.
“I need to tell you something,” I say when we’re alone in the living room.
Hoc turns to me. “I rather like Aries. He seems quite fond of you, too.”
“Yeah. He’s great. Seriously, Hoc. I need to talk to you.”
“And I, you,” he replies. Before I can launch into the whole fucked up story, he pins me with an arched brow and a knowing gleam in his eye. “Paige, do you honestly believe anything happens in this library that I don’t know about?”
I sit back as if his words are a physical blow. And honestly, they might as well be. My stomach fills with rocks, a pit of dread ready to swallow me whole.
“I know that you released Aries from one of the books,” he says softly, keeping his voice low.
I gape at him, too far gone to think about denying it. “What? How?”
Hoc smiles. “My dear daughter, I felt the shift in magic the moment it happened.” Shit. Of course he did. He’s the head librarian, and this damned place is like a living, breathing stalker. Ugh. “Why did you not come to me?” he adds.
“Are you actually asking me that?” I scoff. “You would have killed him.”
Hoc’s expression shifts to one of guilt. “Is that what you truly think of me?”
“I know the rules,” I say. “Rules you’re required to enforce. I know what happened during the Extrication.”
He winces at that. “I’ve made mistakes,” he says softly.
“And with those mistakes, I condemned an entire world. Your world.” I blink back tears at the thought of my parents, who will never meet Aries.
Never know what I’ve done with my life. How hard I’ve worked.
“After that, I promised myself I would not make the same choice again, which is why I allowed you to handle this situation on your own.” His gaze flicks to where Aries stands at the sink, washing our dishes, then back to me.
“Had you come to me, though, we would have simply erased his memory and sent him back.”
I feel stupid.
Foolish.
My eyes fill with hot tears, so I shift my gaze down. Shame heats my cheeks. Because of my own selfish desire to become a keeper, I put Aries and his entire world at risk.
Who knows what’s happened in his world since he’s been gone?
But more than the guilt over my own mistake, I feel bad that I don’t regret it. Not really. Sending Aries back on that first night would mean missing out on everything that’s happened between us since then. How do I tell either of them that I am not sorry after all?
Hoc places his hand over mine, and the warmth makes my shame grow. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.
“You’re sorry? I released a dragon.” I glance over, not at all surprised to see that Aries has stopped washing dishes and turned to face us. He knows now—knows that I was wrong in my attempt to fix this mess. I can’t meet his eyes for fear of the accusation I’ll find there.
Hoc sighs. “I’m sorry that you did not feel you could come to me.”
I don’t know what to say to that—except that, whatever happens to me, I know I can’t let Aries be punished for it. I meet Hoc’s gaze. “And now? Will you take this to the council? There’s no way they’re going to let him just walk out of here.”
Hoc releases my hand and glances back at Aries. “I see no reason to alert the council. We can merely report it as a quick release and return.”
“You would do that?” My heart swells—and also breaks. Sending Aries back...saying goodbye...it’s more than I can bear.
“That you even doubt me breaks my heart.” He shakes his head sadly.
“I just... I knew how much you wanted me to succeed at this,” I tell him. “And then I messed up with the wyvern, and I didn’t want to disappoint you anymore.”