I'll be with you soon.
Charlie pressed the phone against his chest for another moment. The hollow sensation eased, just slightly.
A chime echoed through the house. Integration session.
Charlie hid the phone under the pillow, smoothed his clothes and went to learn how to be a proper vampire from people who seemed to have it all figured out. He'd pay attention, take notes, and try to belong.
But part of him—maybe the biggest part—would be counting the minutes until Simon arrived.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Simon stood across the street from the Riverside Public Library, watching the building through the late evening foot traffic. According to Reuben's intel, someone inside had been feeding the Organization false information about Charlie for weeks.
The library's hours were posted on a faded sign: Open until 11 PM on Fridays. Progressive for a public library, though the few people entering and leaving suggested the late hours weren't exactly popular.
Simon crossed the street, and the automatic doors wheezed open for him.
A security guard who looked about ninety sat at a desk near the entrance, definitely asleep despite his upright position. Past him, rows of shelves stretched into fluorescent-lit gloom.
The information desk stood empty except for a "Ring Bell for Service" sign that someone had decorated with smiley face stickers.
Simon didn't ring the bell.
He moved deeper into the stacks, following the faint trail of something that didn't belong. Not vampire—he'd know that scent anywhere, pills or no pills. This was different. Cleaner, somehow.
Like ozone after lightning.
The trail led him past Self-Help, through True Crime, and into the Children's Books section.
There, someone was shelving books from a cart, their back to Simon. Average height, unremarkable clothes, the kind of person you'd pass a hundred times without noticing.
"We're closing soon." The voice was pleasant, helpful. Librarianish.
"I'm looking for someone," Simon said.
"Have you tried the reference desk?"
"I'm looking for someone who's been filing false reports about a vampire named Charlie."
The figure went still. Then, slowly, they turned.
The young man's face was as unremarkable as the clothes. Brown hair, brown eyes, features so average they seemed designed to be forgotten. But on top of that he was wearing a bow tie with dancing penguins on it, and something about his smile made Simon want to reach for his stake.
"Simon Hale." Not a question. "I've been waiting for you to drop by."
"Who are you?"
"Noah." He slid another book onto the shelf without looking. "And before you ask, yes, I'm the one who's been calling your people about Charlie. He's a terrible vampire, wouldn't you agree? I've heard something about three kills in one night and a warehouse full of victims. Very dangerous."
Simon's jaw tightened. "He's never hurt anyone."
"I know that. You know that now too, which is the whole point." Noah pushed his cart further down the aisle, forcing Simon to follow. "Took you longer to figure it out than I expected, honestly. All that enhanced perception and you couldn't see the obvious."
"You set him up. Why?"
"Set him up?" Noah laughed, quiet enough not to carry but genuine in its amusement. "I gave him the only chance he had. Do you know what happens to abandoned fledglings? They die."
