I was a little misty-eyed. Liam? Not so much.
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
“Liam!” I smacked his arm with the hand which had yet again found its way to his back. “Of course it isn’t a trap. She’s your aunt!” And really, really old, I added mentally. I mean, seriously, old ladies were nice, unless, of course, they were like evil witches or whatever, but I wasn’t getting that vibe off this lady at all.
“She’s the Bibliothecary. Her loyalty is to the Alphas.”
“My loyalty is to my family.”
Maybe I’m a sentimental idiot, but I believed her.
“We’ll go,” I said. Liam started to argue, but I held up a finger. “But know this, you betray us, and we’ll react accordingly. We won’t care whose blood you share or how long you’ve been alive.”
She flashed her dimples again. “Oh, I like her,” she said. “You picked a good mate, Bryce.”
On that she turned herself around, which was a multi-step process. “Come on,” she said, ambling up the aisle. “The girls will be anxious, and it takes me a while to get moving. My legs aren’t quite what they used to be.” She chuckled, as if her inability to walk without assistance was some sort of joke.
I looked at Liam and raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. With a deep breath, Liam started after her, me at his heels. We were both aware there was someone walking up to the library before the front door opened, but Rachel didn’t notice him until he strode up to the Circulation Desk.
“We’re closed,” she snapped to the man who looked as ancient as she did. “Go away, Carl.”
“It’s Friday, Rachel, and you’re open to the public on Fridays. The lights are on. The door was unlocked.” He slapped a hand down on the desk. “Now, I have a reference question.”
Rachel huffed. “Unless that question pertains to where you can find the nearest exit, I don’t want to hear it. Go away. Shoo.”
“Did she just ‘shoo’ that man?” I asked Liam out of the corner of my mouth.
He nodded ever so slightly, his attention never leaving his long-lost aunt who had transformed from lonely old lady to spitfire in an instant.
“It’s Friday.”
“We’re closed.”
The man leaned a little harder against the desk, though whether it was to show his resistance or because he needed the support, I couldn’t tell. “You kicking those two out, too?”
“We’re all leaving,” she said, hobbling past him without a glance. “Gas leak. Stay if you want. I’m sure Randi will be glad to finally get her inheritance.”
The old man muttered some choice phrases about crotchety librarians and ungrateful children, but he followed us out of the building and to Rachel’s gigantic luxury car which cost roughly the same amount as my parents’ house.
“You open the Archives to the public?” Liam asked from the passenger’s seat once Rachel safely maneuvered us onto the road. And by “safely” I mean “I can’t believe that semi-truck didn’t hit us and send us to our graves.”
“We’re open twice a week. All the important information is kept behind a locked door, but the harmless stuff is made available to anyone willing to get a library card. It makes it easier to operate. No one looks too closely at a tiny special collections library, and we get tax money.”
“So, that place is some sort of Shifter library?” Which would explain all the crazy books on werewolf mythology. It didn’t really explain why there was a whole shelf devoted to Stephenie Meyer books, though.
As we barreled down the street, Rachel and Liam gave me the rundown on the whole Archives thing. Instead of being a single library, it’s like a whole library system, with one branch on every continent except Antarctica. The main purpose of the Archives is to keep a record of the whole of Seer and Shifter history (although I somehow doubt the part about killing baby girl Shifters made it in), along with every book, scholarly paper, journal article, etc. that can be linked to Seers or Shifters in any way, including all those sexy paranormal books I like so much.
What really interested me was Rachel’s role in The Archives. As the Bibliothecary (which is just a fancy word for librarian) she no longer exists within the normal Shifter and Seer social structure. Her job requires her to be an impartial party, collecting and recording what happens in our world without bias. Rachel said it was so the information would always be accurate and complete, no matter who served as Alpha. Liam suggested we not be so naive and asserted the Bibliothecaries were nothing more than the Alphas’ lapdogs, especially since they were once in line to be Alphas themselves.
Yeah. That’s right. Sweet little old Aunt Rachel could have been the Queen of Evil. No wonder Liam still looked like he was ready to bolt at the first hint of an ambush.
After fifteen minutes in the Car of Doom we found ourselves parking behind a big southern style house with all the wrap-around, screened-in porches and such. Even though it looked completely out of place against the Minnesota backdrop, it made me feel like I was home in Kentucky.
“That’s the Safe House?” I would certainly feel safe there. Safe and very comfortable.
“Yes, this is where I raised my daughter, but once she was gone it was simply too much house for one woman. I moved into an apartment in town and make this place available to any Seer or Shifter needing shelter,” Rachel said, opening her car door. I quickly grabbed the walker and dashed out of the car. She smiled as she accepted my assistance. “You sure are a sweet girl, Scout. I’m half tempted to keep you.”
“Ummm… Thanks?” Knowing she was a potential Alpha I worried about what “keeping me” might entail. Probably chains. And whips. And maybe a dog collar.
And now I was going to have to live with scary Fifty Shades Aunt Rachel pictures living in my head for all time.
It took more than a few minutes to get Rachel up the steps. The whole way I could smell a potpourri of different Shifters imbedded in the wood of the porch and wafting out from the open windows. None of the smells were current, but some were fresh enough to have been there in the past two or three months. Others were old and faint, barely a whisper of scent.
“How many Shifters have you housed here?” I couldn’t pull out each individual scent, but there were a lot.