Shift of Time (A Rue Darrow Novel Book 1) (8 page)

Just before I closed my eyes for the day, I recalled the odd building I had come upon when I met Milo on the street. I had never gone back to it to explore inside. Sure, the place appeared abandoned, but I had been led there. I needed to check it out.

J
ust as before
, the building appeared abandoned and crumbling, and there was a distinct odor of dust and rot in the air. I hesitated at the wrought iron gate, staring at the place, and then scanned the area around me. No one walked this road. In fact, on the opposite side trees blocked the view of the place. Perhaps that was why the city had forgotten about it. Otherwise, it might have been included in the plan to sell off or renovate various properties after the flood.

I opened the gate and stepped onto the grounds. Lights lit all the windows on the first floor and the second. A shadow moved behind one of the pulled screens.

“Ghosts?” I whispered. That wasn’t impossible.

I approached the front door and felt a barrier. Darn, was I going to be blocked out? But this wasn’t a private residence, was it? I gave a bit of a push to the barrier and felt resistance but a giving, too. A little harder, and my hand reached the doorknob. I gave it a turn and expected the door to creak open like they did in spooky movies. No such luck.

I marveled at the interior of the place, expecting a mansion or at least gutted out office space, blackened walls, or a chandelier shattered on the floor. Yes, my imagination was vivid. Instead I found a library, of all things. Books everywhere, shelves and winding stairs with a black wrought iron railing leading upward. No chandelier, just regular soft lighting and lamps on a few large wooden tables.

To the right of the door lay an open area with an armchair against the wall. A man sat in it, reading a book. I took a moment to study him. A pullover sweater with a dress shirt beneath, checkered pants that should never be in anyone’s wardrobe unless one happens to be ninety-five—and blind. He had crossed one leg over the other, revealing he wore pumpkin seed white shoes.

When the man placed a bookmark inside the book, snapped it closed, and looked up at me, I started. There was something vaguely familiar about him. I shut the door and approached him with caution. While I didn’t recognize the puppy dog brown eyes, straight narrow nose, or the even smile, I was sure I had met him before.

He stood. “Hello, welcome to the library. Can I show you anything in particular?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Who are you, and is it magic that makes this place look like this? I don’t feel the vibrations at all.”

“Not magic, something else.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Wine? No, not yet, huh? I have a little blood, but unfortunately, it’s not fresh.”

I blinked at him in surprise. “You know I’m a vampire?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I glanced down at myself. I wore blue jeans and had paired them with a cute lilac blouse. To splurge, I had used a matching headband to hold my hair back from my face. “I don’t believe it
is
obvious. I could be a…a…” I failed to think of anything interesting. All I truly knew that existed were the Fae, demons, and vampires. “An ogre.”

The man scoffed. “Now
that
would be some magic to appear so tiny, and it wouldn’t work in here.”

“Wouldn’t work?” I gaped, looking around as if I expected to see evidence of what he was telling me.

He spun away and began walking down an aisle of books. I recalled how big the building was outside, and when we continued on past what I judged should have been the end of the property, I had my suspicions about the place.

“You’re saying this isn’t magic? I saw something like this a couple days ago, and it was created by magic.”

“To best help you understand, the library exists on several planes. What you see outside is the extent in your world. The rest exists here and there.”

“Oh, here and there. That clears it up.” I folded my arms over my chest.

He grinned. “Yes, doesn’t it make sense?”

“No.”

“You’ll understand as you grow and study, Rue.”

“How do you know my name?”

“The register.”

“What register?”

He sighed. “I still have access to certain information.”

“What information?”

He stopped walking and faced me. I saw the hesitation. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Death.”

I shook my head. “No you’re not.”

His eyebrows rose, and I waggled a finger at him.

“You might not know this, but I’ve met the being called Death, and you”—I surveyed his thinly-built, poorly dressed form—“are not him. He was big and scary and very dark. He was also very powerful. You are not Death.”

“That person wasn’t me.”

“Right, as I just said, so what’s your name?”

“Death.”

I gritted my teeth. “Okay, listen. I met this being. He was chasing me at the time, trying to drag me to wherever it is people go when they don’t have a body. He said his name was Death.”

This nerd nodded. “Yes, that’s Death.”

“Okay, but you aren’t him, and that was eight years ago. I don’t expect that Death ages, but I assume he doesn’t go backward either. You look maybe twenty-two?”

“Add a few centuries, but I am Death.”

“Stop saying that! What is your name?”

“Death.”

“But you said the other man was named Death.”

“Yes.”

I hooked my arm through his and swung him back toward the front of the library. Even the resistance from his small frame was nothing to impress. Poor thing had probably never had a girlfriend. Or maybe he did, and I was judging him too harshly. For some reason, he looked at me and blushed.

“Let’s start again,” I said. “You know I’m Rue Darrow from some registry? What registry is that?”

“The registration of life, and the registration of death.”

My mouth fell open. “There’s a registration for every human that’s born and dies?”

“There’s a registration for every sentient being that lives and dies and is reborn, in your case.”

“Wow, that’s interesting.”

Amusement stirred in his expression. “You believe me about the registration but not about my name?”

“Well, you work in an odd library. Who knows what books are here.”

“Makes sense.”

We reached the area where I had found him, and he walked through a door to the right of the chair. I followed, and we came upon a small kitchen. The man opened the refrigerator and removed an old-styled bottle, the kind they used for milk in the olden days. This one included a lid with a metal clip to keep it secure. The red liquid inside was unmistakably blood.

The man poured me a drink in a mug and placed it in the microwave to warm. I looked at it with doubt when he handed it to me but took a sip anyway. “Thanks. Not bad.”

He smiled. “A donor.”

“I think I’ll call you Bill,” I said after a few minutes. “Since you won’t tell me your real name.”

“I’m not Bill. I’m Death.”

Out of the blue, I understood what he was saying. “Wait, you mean there is more than one of you guys running around. Is that right? But you’re all named Death. You’re all grim reapers.”

“Bingo!”

“Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“You kept asking my name. I kept answering you.” He said it so matter-of-factly I knew he didn’t understand my frustration. To him, it was simple. Where did they get these death fellows?

“How do you tell each other apart, like when you’re reporting to your boss or being sent on assignments?”

He blinked in confusion. I stared back, waiting, and he scratched his arm. “Well, I like tacos.”

“Death likes tacos. Brilliant.” I shook my head in wonder, and he appeared to believe that settled things. “Well, Bill, what are you doing here? Is this a Death assignment? I thought you only collect souls.”

He opened his mouth as if to argue about the name but seemed to change his mind. “I left the business.”

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“No one has come for me, and I heard about this job, so I applied.”

While he explained his dream of meeting more people in happier circumstances and being a help to them, he opened the refrigerator again to remove several paper wrapped items. He unraveled each, and I found that he had been serious about his claim. Soon he had a plate of six tacos ready to pop into the microwave.

“You’re going to eat all of that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I like tacos.”

“So you said.” I glanced out through the kitchen door toward the stacks. Books extended endlessly. “Bill, do you think there’s something here to help me?”

“Of course. That’s what we’re here for. This library is only for paranormals of all kinds. It only appears for them.”

“So to humans it appears to be an abandoned building until they get past the gates?”

He shook his head. “They see an abandoned building, and even if they walk onto the grounds, it’s the same. Sometimes, when the mood is right, you will see something like a ghost walk across the floor out there.”

He pointed.

“It’s haunted?”

“No, they’re humans.” His brown eyes sparked brighter. “When we’re in here, we’re connected but separate.”

“Not magic, something else,” I echoed from his earlier assertion, and I kind of thought I understood a little better. “Like occupying the same space but different planes.”

“Sort of, but we are also still in the physical realm.”

“Never mind. I think you addled my brain a little.” I considered showing him the box and asking him about it, but decided against it. I would be breaking Milo’s trust if I told anyone about its existence. Milo might not be fully honest, but that didn’t mean I should ignore my promise.

“Bill, you said if I had changed how I looked, it wouldn’t work in here. Why is that?”

“For my protection and my patrons. The building has wards that keep humans from learning more than they should, but it also blocks magic and other abilities that would deceive. Everyone is laid bare while in the library.”

I considered this. “That’s a good policy, but what do you mean other abilities?”

“You don’t need to learn everything in a day, Rue. I especially don’t have time to teach you everything today.”

“I’m sure you have to get back to your book,” I snarked.

He missed my sarcasm or didn’t care one way or another. “Yes, but since I will be training you, we can make a schedule.”

“Huh?”

Bill smacked his forehead. “I keep forgetting you are so young.”

I put my hands on my hips. “I’ve heard a lot of that lately, and I’m tired of it. Everyone cannot be old as father time, Bill.”

Rather than be offended, he grinned. “You’re right. You were coming here to learn more about defending yourself. I will train you.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but even if you are Death, I doubt you have anything to offer me, unless it’s a book.” Too late, I realized I had crossed the line. In essence I had just called him a nerd, and I hadn’t meant to imply such a thing. Nevertheless, I did believe I could beat down the scrawny fellow.

Bill the grim reaper just smiled at me. “Shall I prove it to you?”

I made up my mind to accept his challenge, but I didn’t get to voice my agreement. Bill’s speed was on par with mine. Before I registered his movement, he sent a blow to my chest that flipped me backward heels over head. I didn’t just crash into a row of shelves. I hurtled through them and came out on the other side. Books were everywhere, along with splintered wood and bent metal.

Dazed, I lay on my back for a few moments, trying to recollect what just happened. Bill appeared above me, offering a hand and a smile. I knocked the hand away and rolled to my stomach. Everything ached, but to my surprise, nothing was broken. Somehow, I wobbled to my feet and faced him.

I took in the row of destruction his hit had caused and frowned at the tear in my new blouse. “Was that payback for the jibe?”

“No. I knew you underestimated me, and I already released the offense it produced.”

He was weird, but I didn’t say so in case I found myself attacked again. “You move as fast, no
faster
, than a vampire.”

“Wrong.”

“I just saw you do it.”

He held up a finger. “There are few that are faster than you are. I appeared to be faster because of my honed skills. I spent decades in training. The only beings that might be faster than you are those that can teleport, but you can overcome that with various techniques.”

Bill spoke to me in a calm and instructive manner, as if I had already accepted him as my teacher. I suppose I had with one painful blow.

“I’m stronger than you are, but that will change with training and with the advancement of your age.”

“Am I at the top of the food chain?” I sounded arrogant, but as I suspected, Bill wasn’t annoyed.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“It’s not important.”

“Can you read my mind, Bill?”

“Yes. You will be able to read almost any human’s mind with practice, and quite a few nonhumans.”

“You’ll teach me that, too?” I asked, getting excited.

“I don’t have that information yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t predict the future.”

I rubbed my temples from habit. “Here we go again. Isn’t it a matter of whether you’re willing and not whether it’s fated to happen?”

“Fate.” He spun away and tucked his hands behind his back. “There’s an interesting, debatable subject. I like hearing human thoughts on the matter. Speaking about it with nonhumans…not so much.”

I groaned.

Bill waved a hand over the mess on the floor, and it began fixing itself. I gaped as the wood came together as if it had never been destroyed and the metal unbent.

“Wow!” When the floor was all clear, I strode about the aisles in awe. “You’re telling me that’s not magic?”

“Did you feel vibrations?”

“No.”

He nodded.

“Then it’s your natural ability?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking and started to think I needed to leave all these topics alone. Maybe my way of thinking would never expand enough to get it.

“This”—Bill gestured—“is what a grim reaper can do.”

“Can you bring people back from the dead?”

“No.”

I tapped my lip. “Bill, please explain to me why you know you’ll train me to fight but you don’t know about teaching me to read minds?”