Read Lost Library: An Urban Fantasy Romance Online
Authors: Kate Baray
Her gaze
traveled up past his broad shoulders, to the column of his neck and the line of his jaw. He hadn’t shaved today, so there was a dusting of stubble across his jawline. Her eyes dipped back down and finally rested on the hollow above the slight V in the neck of his shirt.
Down girl.
Her hormones or libido or whatever seemed to kick i
n with increasing frequency these days. Whatever it was about John, he seemed to have jump-started feelings that she hadn’t missed or even thought about in a long time. It really was time for a nap now. She needed to get her mind out of the gutter. She proceeded to fake a nap and five minutes later was lost in a slumber filled with not-so-sweet, but very happy dreams.
Lizzie came to with a snort. It took her a second to get her bearings. When she did, she sat up straight and did a frantic drool check.
John smiled and said, “You’re good. You’re actually very quiet and tidy when you sleep. No flailing limbs or drool.” John’s smile widened. “Very pretty, actually. Like Sleeping Beauty, waiting for a kiss.” Now he was just plain teasing her. “Except for the snorting.”
“Thanks for that,” replied Lizzie. “Now I won’t be self-conscious at all the next time I’m trying to fall asleep.”
Sarcasm tended to shine brightest when Lizzie was freshly awake. She might also be especially sensitive, because he had just featured in a steamy dream she wished she could remember in more detail. She needed some coffee before she said something mean—or worse, suggestive. God forbid. Then she’d have to
apologize.
Eww.
“Why are we stoppin
g—gas?”
“
That, and I need to check in with Chris. I don’t want to use a payphone every time we need to talk to her. It’s inconvenient. I know her end is secure, but I’m less sure of my cell. So I’ll pick up a prepaid phone here. I also have some friends I’d like to check up on. They were investigating an alternative lead out in Arkansas. I think they’ve gotten themselves involved in some local trouble.”
“Trouble just follows you guys around, huh?” Lizzie was still slowly waking up.
She stretched her arms straight out in front her, flexing her wrists up. A coffee sounded like heaven right now, so she knew she was in rough shape. “How long have I been asleep?”
Joh
n glanced at his watch. “Maybe two hours? I’m going to run in while the tank fills. Want anything?”
“Coffee,” Lizzie’s immediate
ly replied. “Light, no sugar.” Two hours? She supposed midnight adventure wrecked a girl’s sleep.
John raised his eyebrows at her choice of coffee, but didn’t comment.
Awww. He noticed what she liked to drink. How cute is that? Apparently she was awake enough to have charitable thoughts.
“And stay in the car with the doors locked until I get back
,” was thrown over his shoulder as he left.
Charity all gone now, thanks. He was right, of course. But it was a reminder that she still wasn’t in the clear, even with Kenna running interference for the bad guys. At that thought, she wondered how Kenna was doing with Max and hoped her friend was safe.
John grabbed extra snacks and several sandwiches. Lizzie’s face looked thinner to him. She may not have been eating well, given the circumstances. He also made a note to swing by the grocery before they reached their campground. The camper was well outfitted with cooking gear. He’d checked earlier when Max’s buddy had given him the instructions on popping the thing up and hooking up at the campground. They’d both enjoy a hot meal after nothing but sandwiches and snacks all day.
After dinner, now that would be more challenging. The camper had two sleeping berths, located on opposite sides of the camper from each other. And while roomy for a camper, the quarters were tight. Considering the horny, fuck-me-now thoughts that kept popping up at inopportune moments, he’d have to make some special accommodation if he was going to get any sleep at all. A run in the park would go a long way toward aiding his sleep, but he couldn’t leave Lizzie for that long.
Food bagged up, John
headed back to the truck. When he arrived, Lizzie eyed the gas station sandwiches skeptically.
“
Thanks for thinking of lunch. Um, I need a bathroom break before we leave.”
They both left the truck and made a
pit stop at the toilets. After a few minutes, a rosy-cheeked Lizzie emerged. She’d clearly taken some time to freshen up. The curling tendrils of hair framing her face were damp, and her lashes were spikey from the water. She looked much more awake. And absolutely kissable. At least his brain was moving from X to R ratings.
They walked
to the car in silence. John unlocked Lizzie’s door first, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. “Are you hungry? It’s past time for lunch.”
Lizzie always appreciated a man—shoot anyone—who wanted to feed her. Even if she wasn’t as snacky as usual, she still appreciated the thought.
She replied,
“Not really. My appetite hasn’t been great over the last few days.” Surprisingly. Normally, stress created a chain reaction of salty and then sweet cravings which led to serious snacking. Diminished appetite plus convenience store food—she’d pass for now. “You mentioned Chris’s phone is secure on her end. Does she run a security firm, or something like that? It sounds like she’ll be doing some research for you. That and the phone made me wonder.”
“No
—she’s been a kindergarten teacher since she was discharged from the military. Her choice to teach young children was surprising at first, but when you stop to think about it, she deals with Max, James, Ben and me pretty regularly. If we’re not good training for building patience and interacting with kindergarteners, I’m not sure what is.” John flashed her a wicked smile.
And the man can even make fun of himself. She really didn’t need to discover any more endearing traits. She was already in deeper than she had any right to be. He was a
Lycan. A pack leader. Surely she was a little too…boring? Uninteresting? Not wolfy enough? She was sure she was either too much or too little
something
to interest John.
Then
Lizzie remembered her conversation with Kenna. She had claimed Lizzie didn’t open herself up to the possibilities of romance, dating, or love. And she had to admit to herself, she’d been afraid to. Which made no sense. She liked herself. A lot. Why was it so difficult to believe John might as well? Was John worth risking rejection for? She still wasn’t sure. But she
was
sure it was time to make a change. To be aware of and open to the possibilities. She’d survived a kidnapping, dammit. She could learn to take personal risks. She could do this.
Lizzie wished she had brushed up on her flirting skills.
She’d have to think on the “how” of being open to the possibilities of love.
She answered his question, a little belatedly.
“Too true, if they’re anything like you. You, for one, are not the most communicative guy. I’m still planning to pick your brain for Lycan and magic info. I’m ready to beat that stupid book against a wall.” She thought for a second about what John had said about Chris. “Wait, if she’s a kindergarten teacher, how is she available to help? You guys have been checking in at all hours.”
“She’s well into her first pregnancy. She and her husband decided something closer to home was better. In case there were complications with her pregnancy
—always a concern for a first time Lycan mother. And she was ready for a change. She’s been writing and blogging but isn’t loving it. I’ve told her she should look at security, background checks, that type of thing.”
Talking about Chris reminded John why, in part, he’d been pursuing the contents of the pack’s book. The book had become such a small part of the last few days’ events that he’d… not forgotten his purpose, but perhaps mislaid it temporarily.
They’d been traveling in companionable silence for a good distance when John spoke up again. “I never told you why I was looking for the book.
For you.” He paused. “Just to clarify, this is me trying to be communicative.” He smiled slightly.
Lizzie’s
immediately responded, “Sorry. I know a lot has happened in a few days. We haven’t really had an opportunity for long, cozy chats by the fire. I get that. But you can see how learning about this whole other world, finding out that I’m a part of it, would make me insanely curious, right? And you’re my best bet for any insight.”
“I
understand,” he replied. “So I’ll try to be chatty.” Another smile, which quickly disappeared as he began to explain. “We’ve had fewer Lycan children born in recent years. Increased miscarriages, first time mothers with very difficult births.” He saw a thoughtful look cross Lizzie’s face. He paused, waiting for her to comment.
“Anna, Clark’s daughter
-in-law. She looked frail, like she was recovering from being ill or had a chronic health issue. And she was terribly sad. When you mentioned miscarriages, I just wondered. How horrible.” She hugged her arms close to her body.
“I have no idea. That wouldn’t be something I’d hear about.
Which is part of the problem. James is convinced that with the pooled information and resources of all the North American packs, he would have a much better chance of finding patterns. Even determining if what we’re seeing is statistically significant.”
Lizzie replied, “James? Isn’t he one of the guys in Arkansas right now?”
John nodded. “He’s also a pack member, Lycan, and a doctor. We’ve both hypothesized what we’re seeing is the beginning of a significant change. But it’s hard to say with the information we have. Packs are insular, and dislike sharing information.”
He was interrupted by
an abrupt, “Ha!” from Lizzie.
He acknowledged her point
by saying, “To a sometimes extreme degree. Happy?”
“Yes, thank you.” She smiled.
John continued, “People, Lycan, can see patterns where there are none and draw conclusions with incomplete or biased information. If a close friend or family member has difficulty conceiving or giving birth, you might be sensitized to that type of event. Each successive person you know would seem to make for an increasingly better argument that more women were suffering miscarriages today than ten years ago.”
“That doesn’t seem very scientific.”
“That’s the problem,” he agreed. “It’s not. Anecdotal evidence is
some
evidence and shouldn’t be discounted. But we need a large pool of numbers, and we need to analyze the numbers. Take as much of the personal bias out as possible. So—James and I did that, on a small scale. We gathered medical data for our pack. I believe the numbers point to the beginning of some troubling trends, but it’s not statistically significant or persuasive without more information. It could just be a slight blip. But I have a gut feeling it’s not.”
“How does this all tie in to
the book?” During the conversation, she had slowly oriented herself more and more in John’s direction. He certainly knew how to capture her full attention. His discourse on pack background had her riveted. Even though he knew she was engrossed by the information he was providing, he enjoyed being the focus of her attention.
“James wants to gather more information, and I certainly support that decision. Because of my position, I can’t approach other packs without involving the Texas
Pack. Clark actually commented on that. You can’t separate the man from the position…or the Lycan, in this case.”
Clark wasn’t a bad sort. If L
izzie hadn’t been involved in his machinations, John would have even considered the Idaho pack leader’s plan a good one. Record Keepers were assets, and Idaho had a good platform for attracting a new Keeper to their pack.
Looking up and seeing that she was waiting for him to continue, he returned to his explanation. “
James isn’t hindered by an official position and can approach outsiders with more neutrality. Since my gut says there’s a problem, I decided to do some digging. Working on the assumption that there may be a problem with conception, higher infant mortality, and increased numbers of miscarriages, I started looking at what has changed over the last several decades.”
“Ah, now I see
,” Lizzie interjected. “I can see how the book could be a good resource for determining how behaviors have changed within the pack over longer periods of time.”
“Exactly.
I’ve spoken with some of the older pack members, but there is no written record of some of the simplest of facts. For example, human records indicate birth, marriage, and death. But no record indicates whether the individuals were Lycan, human, Record Keepers, healers, or some other talent group.”
“What do you
mean, talent group?”
The truck hit a particularly deep pothole, and jarred them. “Sorry,” John
muttered. “Everyone has some magic. My magic allows me to become a wolf. Your magic allows you to access information stored in Lycan books—and I’m sure do a lot of other things, as well. A healer’s magic allows them to see patterns indicating injury and sickness and, I think, even push injuries to heal faster. We haven’t had a healer in some time, either.”