Lost Library: An Urban Fantasy Romance (7 page)

“Long story short, the guy that asked about the book? He’s a werewolf. I’m pretty sure. I mean, I guessed that he is, and he said yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut, like she was waiting for an explosion. When her statement was greeted with silence, she opened her eyes.

Kenna was practically tapping the toe of her sandal on the
floor, she was so impatient. “And?”

“That’s about it. Although
…” Lizzie frowned, clearly annoyed. “I’m a little doubtful of the rumors of werewolf super strength. He didn’t even pick me up off the floor and carry me to the sofa.”

“That’s the part I’m confused about. Why were you on the floor? How did you pass out?” Her toe was actually tapping now. “Did he sucker punch you? Or pull some weird wolf
magic crap?”

“
I ended up on the floor all on my own. Minor miscommunication on the phone earlier. I wasn’t knocked out; I passed out. No help from John needed, sadly.” She blushed slightly.
Really, who fainted these days?

“Why are you blushing?” Kenna perked up. “Did he
flirt? Or try to get in your pants?”

“No! I’m just, well, it’s…it’s embarrassing. What
grown
twenty-first century woman faints? Who does that?” She pointed a finger at her way too calm friend. “And why aren’t you wigged out by the werewolf thing?”

“You’re telling me you passed out because you found out your hunky guy is a werewolf? There are other fish in the sea, so to speak. No need for such a strong reaction.”

              “I passed out because apparently all of the blood rushes out of my head when supernatural weirdos show up on my porch.” Lizzie countered. Supernatural weirdo was a bit harsh and not entirely fair.
John was actually turning out to be quite nice…

“Wait a minute. You were completely freaked out when I
mentioned the word werewolf on the phone. How are you so okay with this?” Lizzie looked suspiciously at her friend.

“I’ve had a ten-minute car ride to get used to the idea.” Kenna looked incredulous. “How are you not? You’ve had
two years
with the whole ‘magic exists’ concept. I’d think that would be the big hurdle. If there’s magic, is it that big of a stretch to think there might be werewolves?”

“Or vampires or demons…”
Lizzie muttered. At Kenna’s questioning look, Lizzie clarified. “No, I haven’t met any, and I don’t know if they exist. Just a random thought.”

“Not so random when we’re talking werewolves and magic books. But back to the stor
y—you said you guessed?” Kenna had gradually moved them to the sofa in the living room during their conversation.

Lizzie told her about the two
“wolf hybrid” sightings. How her dogs reacted the same way to the wolf and to John. And, finally, the weird vibe she got when he talked about his family.

“So
John’s family is probably his pack. That’s how that works with wolves, right?” Lizzie paid a little attention to the nature shows on wolves. But only a little. She’d certainly be more attentive in future.

“Except he’s not a wolf.
So who knows. He didn’t deny it when you told him you suspected?” Kenna asked.

“No. Just said he was,
then I passed out. I’m almost sure he was coming over to tell me. After last night, I knew something freaky was going on with my stalker wolf. Now that I think back, I had this really strong impression the wolf was a ‘he.’ Not an ‘it.’”

“Looks like you were right.
I’ve always said your intuition is good. Maybe it’s magic,” she said and arched her eyebrows. “So what has this John character told you about the book?”

“It’s a family
diary—his family’s, and only people called Record Keepers can read these magic books. John thinks I’m a Record Keeper. There you go. You know what I know.”

Kenna
’s eyes widened in surprise and annoyance. “That’s it? Nothing about supernatural super powers or magic? Or, more importantly, what idiot sent that book to you without an instruction manual? Or how about, where you might get the instruction manual? The suspense could all be over with a simple web link and a click on ‘download here.’ Wouldn’t that be a kicker.”

“I really doubt it.
Looking for an online manual was week three or four after the book arrived. I lived on the Internet, eating and breathing references to magical texts. Then I decided, although adequate, my research skills weren’t stellar, and my next contract job was gearing up. I hired a grad student to do more extensive research. I’ve still got it all stashed in my office, if you’d like to see it sometime. After that, I hired a computer nerd to do some deeper online digging. So, sadly, no convenient ‘download’ button is likely to be the answer.” A little more seriously, she continued, “I’m so glad you’re fine with all of this. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t talk this all over with you. The idea of werewolves seriously did not compute and temporarily fried a few of my circuits.”

Kenna leaned back in her chair with a thoughtful look.
“I do think it’s funny your werewolf is named John. That’s a really solid name for a shady character or a supernatural baddy,” Kenna said.

She should
have ignored the comment. Knowing Kenna, it was probably just a way to bait her into spilling everything about him, but… “John suits him. There’s nothing werewolfy about him. No tufts of hair coming out of his ears or anything. It’s so embarrassing. I think I implied that at some point. Something like why aren’t your ears pointed, or where’s your tail. It’s fuzzy, but there were some unfortunate remarks made about wolfy-ness.” Lizzie’s cheeks reddened in embarrassed remembrance. “He’s completely normal looking. Well, normal hot looking. I can’t believe I said that to a gorgeous guy.”

Kenna
honed in on the most relevant—to her—point, “Hot? How hot? Better yet, did you sneak a photo?”

“No! Are you nuts? Besides, I was passed out for half the visit, so I wasn’t thinking about how I could satisfy
your overactive hot-guy curiosity. Besides, you know I don’t date.”

“But you
used to. And you could again. You’re gorgeous and one of the nicest people I know. Guys would be in to you, if you’d let them. Anyway, it’s much too early to consider. He may be a mass murderer for all we know. Who knows what werewolves get up to in their spare time? I’m just saying, keep an open mind. We don’t discuss it much, but there’s a reason men don’t ask you out. You make assumptions and close yourself off to the possibilities, making it hard for men to approach you.”

Lizzie was surprised by
Kenna’s observation. She had always thought that she wasn’t quite thin enough, or maybe not funny enough. Or she was just too average to stand out in a crowd. It wasn’t something she dwelled on, but it was always a thought in the back of her mind. And the very public and humiliating break-up with her last serious boyfriend likely wasn’t very helpful. She’d dated since, but nothing serious and not at all recently. Thoughts about dating were better left for another time and place, though.

“You’re right, I could
date. But not a potentially mass-murdering werewolf.” At which point she erupted in giggles, laughing at the image she had just described.

“What’s so funny?” sa
id Kenna.

“If you met
him—he’s very serious and responsible looking. My initial impression was of a large, intimidating guy. But after he stopped looming in my doorway, well, I don’t know. He’s a statistician. Conservative haircut, nice manners. The overall impression is more buff accountant, than deranged serial killer. Although, I suppose some deranged serial killers look like accountants?” pondered Lizzie.

Lizzie shook her head
. “How did we even get there?” Another headshake. “Here’s the important stuff. He’s a werewolf. The book is magic, and he can’t read it, either. He initially thought I could read the Book, so he was surprised that I didn’t know about him or about werewolves. He doesn’t want the book—he wants me and the book. Or, maybe, me to read the book? I’m not clear on that last bit. But I’m the key to reading the thing, somehow. He’s not sure exactly how.” This last was accompanied by a small nose wrinkle. “Got it?”

“Not even close. Why now? Why you? Where did the book come from? There are just too many questions John the Werewolf didn’t answer. Do you believe him?”

After considering for a moment Lizzie replied, “I think I do.” Everything had happened so quickly, Lizzie hadn’t stopped to evaluate the truth of John’s claims. But now she did, and she wanted to believe him.

“As for
the unanswered questions—” Lizzie produced his business card. “I have his cell. I’m going to set up another meeting, but this time I’m not leaving until he answers all of my questions.”

John agreed
to meet with Lizzie. He didn’t seem surprised by her call. They met at three o’clock, at the same small café as before. She decided going in that she was going to act as if nothing unusual had happened yesterday.

After ordering tea
for Lizzie and coffee—John’s second cup—they moved into a corner with a small table. There were only two other customers, none seated near their table.

After confirming Lizzie had recovered
fully, John asked, “Is your friend going to join us, or is she just here to make sure I’m not a mass murderer?” Lizzie blinked three times. Surely that was no coincidence? Strangers and mass murderers were starting to crop up as a theme. Unless werewolves were psychic…. How else would he know the customer sitting on the other side of the shop was her friend? Unless…

“I hugged her before we came in. She totally smells like me, doesn’t she?”

“Will you stop with the dog references? I might eventually take offense.” His light, relaxed expression made it clear to her she wasn’t actually in any danger of offending him. She’d seen him tense and pissed off. This wasn’t it.

              “I saw you drive up together and get out of the same car. You’re not exactly stealthy, Super Spy.” He smiled warmly at her, maintaining eye contact for several seconds.
Was he flirting with her?

No.
Couldn’t be.
And she felt silly for thinking it. Tired of always being caught off guard and far from displaying her best game, Lizzie responded a little more stiffly to his teasing than her usual good humor would dictate.

             
“If I was really worried you were a mass murderer, I would have been a little sneakier…or more likely, not come at all,” she said tartly. She was feeling a little snarky, so she added, “You’d better not ruin my day by actually being a psychopath.”

             
“Before you accuse me of chewing on the chair leg or being the next Ripper, let’s call a brief truce. Is that okay?” At her nod, he continued. “I’d like to invite you to visit the pack’s headquarters.”

The shift in h
is attitude toward her seemed to be sticking. Amused, rather than annoyed. Teasing, rather than bullying. She liked this John. Maybe having shared the whole werewolf thing made him more comfortable with her?

As for the goofy wolf comments, she
couldn’t seem to help herself. When she was nervous, out came speculative werewolf comments better left to wander around inside her brain. She was allowed to be nervous. He was a
werewolf
.

             
Three heartbeats later
…Wait a minute—meet the pack? Cool! Maybe dangerous? Hmm.
This required a consult with Kenna. Lizzie couldn’t rely completely on her own judgment when making magic-related decisions. With this most recent revelation—werewolves were real, really real—Lizzie vacillated between thinking she was still the relatively rational person she’d always been, and thinking she was just a little bit out of touch with reality. That’s probably what made her pass out. Conflicting versions of reality were colliding and exploding in her brain.

“I need a consult. Be right back!”
Lizzie was off to Kenna’s table before he could protest, or worse, make her sign some wolfy confidentiality agreement. She was sure he had one stashed in a back pocket just for her. 

Approaching
Kenna’s table, she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. Kenna grabbed her bag and her latte, linked arms with her, and headed out the door. 

“Emergency consult was needed,”
Lizzie said, “and for all I know he has super hearing. I just received an invite….” At this point she looked around checking for any accidental eavesdroppers. Seeing no one loitering near the coffee shop’s entrance, she continued. “I just received an invite to visit the pack’s headquarters. How cool is that! Or is it not cool and very, very dangerous? I can’t decide, so I need some advice.”

Kenna
’s response wasn’t completely unexpected. “This is what you want to discuss? There’s a great looking, apparently polite, seemingly not broke, well-dressed guy in there, and you don’t even stop for a quick gossip to speculate on his availability, or his interest in you. Yes, visiting a werewolf pack would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And you could learn about things most people don’t even know exist. But—could you minimally multi-task and think about the magic stuff
and
about the delicious man?”