Authors: Tammy Blackwell
Here’s the thing, at this point I should
have known that you couldn’t predict the amount of power a Shifter
or Seer yielded by their physical appearance. Toby is nowhere near
the biggest or scariest looking Hagan, yet he's the Pack Leader.
Talley is chubby and quiet and smiles more often than not. To the
casual observer she looks as harmless as a butterfly, but she's the
strongest Seer I’ve ever encountered, including Sarvarna. So, I
shouldn’t have had any expectations as to who was stepping into the
end of the aisle, but apparently I did, because I was completely
shocked to see a wizened old lady, her white hair bundled on top of
her head while she supported her weight with a walker. I took
comfort in knowing I wasn’t the only one in shock. Liam froze as
the little old lady came into view, and the woman herself looked as
if she saw a ghost. And then a wide smile that looked vaguely
familiar spread across her face.
“
Bryce Allen Burkett.” Her
voice carried a faint British accent. “You finally got around to
visiting your old aunt. Now, come, and give me a hug.”
Chapter 24
“
You have an
aunt?”
“
Of course he has an aunt,”
the old lady said. “Did you think he was born into a pack of
wolves?” She started down the aisle, and although it obviously took
a great deal of effort on her part, there was no doubt of the
challenge in her movement.
“
No, I don’t.” Liam took
advantage of my shock and deftly maneuvered me behind him with a
well placed elbow and hip. “I don’t know who you are--”
“
Rachel Frye-Bettany,
sister of Judith Frye-Mitchell, the mother of Alexandria
Mitchell-Burkett, the mother of Bryce, Christopher, and Nicole
Burkett.” She smiled and I saw dimples hiding in the landscape of
wrinkles. “I’ve looked forward to seeing you again for a very long
time.”
Liam was so tense I thought he might crumble
into a million little Liam pieces. I could feel his back muscles
straining beneath my hand, which is how I realized my hand was
resting on his lower back in a completely unacceptable fashion. I
jerked it back quickly, but then had to face the task of figuring
out where to put it. I stuffed it into my pocket, propped it on my
hip, and let it hang down to my side.
Having appendages had never been so
perplexing.
“
Bryce Burkett is dead,”
Liam said, oblivious to my Hokey-Pokey dance.
“
Yes, my records indicate
he died alongside his parents and brother in a house fire over five
years ago.” Liam tensed even more at her arch tone. It didn’t show
on his face, and my hands were both stuffed dutifully into the
kangaroo pouch of my stolen hoodie, but still I knew. I could feel
his tension and unease like a ghost with his scent residing quietly
beside my own emotions.
“
Three years later the
Alpha Pack made it known they were seeking two rogue Shifters.
Teenagers. Grey eyes. Brown hair with a hint of ginger. Later, they
identified them as Liam and Alex Cole.” The old lady’s hands
clenched on the walker, her fragile skin stretched tight over
misshapen knuckles, and leaned over until she was in Liam’s
personal space. “Bryce Burkett was a four year old who picked me
wildflowers and peppered my face with kisses. Liam Cole is a
dangerous man, a threat to the very structure of our
society.”
A flash of recognition in Liam’s eyes.
“
Will you give us a head
start?”
“
No.”
Crap. I really didn’t want to have to hurt
an old lady, especially one with purple tennis balls stuck on the
feet of her walker.
“
You’re not leaving,” she
said, and I began thinking of a way to disable her without breaking
her hip. “You will stay at the Safe House for at least one week.
After a week, you can run off and save the world if you must, but
first you will give me a week.” When neither Liam nor I responded -
me because I was still trying to figure out if punching an elderly
person would cause them to have a stroke - she gave us an Alex
smile. “I’m an old lady. All I have left are memories and family.
Please. One week to get to know you again is all I ask. Marie and
Michelle are probably prepping the Safe House as I
speak.”
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.
“
Not as many as I thought
would come,” she said, throwing open the door. The smell of garlic
and Italian seasonings made my mouth water instantly. “But even one
is too many. No one should live in fear or be shut out from what is
known and safe.”
She was so freaking sincere it hurt.
“
You would have made a
wonderful Alpha,” I told her.
“
Oh no, dear, I am far too
tender hearted for such a task, which is why I am here, and not in
Romania with the other Matrons.”
The step to get into the actual house was
both steep and narrow. When it became obvious Rachel couldn’t
navigate it on her own, Liam swooped her into his arms and carried
her across the threshold.
“
Oh my!” Rachel clutched
onto his shoulders, her dimples flashing. “I haven’t done that
since my honeymoon.”
Liam’s face turned shades of red I didn’t
know existed. “Sorry. I should have asked first.”
“
It was perfectly
wonderful.” She gave me an apologetic look as he sat her down.
“Although I do suppose we should have asked you if it was okay
first. I know how mates are in the beginning. The whole touching
other people thing can be grounds for a fight, even if it’s their
old aunt.”
“
She’s not my mate,” Liam
said before I could.
Rachel clucked her tongue. “Don’t be silly.
Of course you are.”
Now my face was attempting
to match the color of Liam’s. “No, really. No Declarations. No
ceremony. We’ve never even…” We got close. Very, very,
very
close, but then,
when things started getting really serious, Liam bolted. He was
there one minute, all lips and hands and tongues, and the next he
was walking out the door. Once I finally got my wits about me, and
some clothes on, I went outside to search for him. I found the wolf
instead. Neither of us had spoken of it since, although from the
look on Liam’s face, we were both thinking about it now.
Rachel kindly ignored both of our
shame-filled faces. “Declarations and ceremonies are bureaucratic
nonsense based on human customs. Mating is something more primitive
and magical.” She narrowed her eyes and laid a hand on each of our
cheeks. I felt the power of her Sight crashing through my body.
“Yes, I’m quite right.” Her face lit up as she patted the cheeks
she had been holding on to. “You have chosen each other. It’s done.
You’re mates.”
While I stood there in dumb shock, two girls
rounded the corner from the direction of the heavenly smell. “We
thought we heard voices,” said the one with a riot of curls
bouncing around her face. “Hey, Grandmother.” She turned to Liam
and me. “Tall scary man. Girl whose face I know from somewhere but
can’t remember where," she said to us in acknowledgement.