Ariel waved back and held up one finger. “Before now, did you think it was possible for book characters to come to life?” Stella shook her head. “Let’s talk about what’s impossible but possible. You’re a girl who sees words floating around. Your vibe, by the way, is so sparkly right now, which is lovely. You’ve never been this way before, not even with Wade. You and Jack have something special, Stella. I’ve never seen you this happy.”
She locked her gaze with Jack’s across the street. He fired up all the nerves in her body, making her breathless and passionate. “You’re right. What if it’s possible? We have less than three days to figure out a way.”
Ariel hooked her arm through Stella’s, looked both ways down the street, and then tugged her across the road toward Jack. “We’ll figure this out together.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Stella said. “Well, Arnie seems like the best place.”
“See?” Ariel said. “Youdoknow where to start.”
Could they find a way to allow Jack to stay permanently? If he could stay, was she willing to take a risk on another relationship? Stella’s heart flip-flopped in response, sayingyes.
Chapter 18
After sandwiches and ice cream, Stella kept busy preparing the care package booth and gathering supplies and donations for it. She also spent a lot of time walking around the grounds and the library ensuring everyone had what they needed or fetching what they still lacked. Dwelling on Jack and discussing their future with Arnie slipped to the back of her thoughts.
As the early evening passed and the sun eased lower behind the pine trees, the sky filled with brilliant swirls the colors of orange push-up pops and strawberry sherbet. Vendors loaded empty boxes and crates into cars and trailers and drove away until tomorrow. As a precaution, a squad of Blue Sky Valley police officers had scheduled overnight shifts for guarding the grounds and the park down the street.
The last of the vendors trickled out of the library, along with the volunteers. The library would close in half an hour. She—with a truckload of helpers and the committee’s top-notch organization—might actually pull off the festival without having Arnie there to keep everything on track.
As quiet settled over the building, Stella’s mind and body finally started to relax. She walked the library’s second floor to check for any stragglers or messes to clean. Near the women’s fiction section, she paused long enough to sit on the edge of a study table and exhale a relieved breath. A sudden stabbing pain speared through her chest. The familiar burning spread through her as though she’d fallen into a bonfire. A neon-violet gooey substance rose from the center of the study table, forming an amorphous blob on the polished surface. Trembling letters rose from the goop, dripping and revealing their dangling tendrils. Stella struggled to breathe and pressed her hands to her chest as if that would help. It didn’t.
The words shimmied across the tabletop, and Stella blinked through the pain to read them out loud. “‘But one built from paper and rich black ink.’”
She gasped as her lungs expanded and the fire in her chest extinguished. Leaning over the study table, she pounded her fist against the table in frustration. “Is the pain necessary?” she cried to the words.
They wiggled in response.
“Couldn’t you come gently?” She pushed herself upright. “Iseeyou, okay? You don’t have to kill me.”
The words rocketed off the table, skittered across the tiles, leaped over the balcony, and rushed toward the circulation desk where her journal was tucked away. Stella faltered the first few steps and then regained her balance as she walked toward the staircase.
A shadow lengthened across the floor in front of her. Stella turned her head just in time to see a flash of silver and black before she was snatched down an aisle. She gasped and stumbled sideways. Hercheek crushed into clothes that stank of rum. She half dangled in the man’s grasp, her feet dragging behind her.
“I thought you had better taste, love. Choosing that soldier over me? Repulsive,” Hook said, pulling her so tightly against him that she felt the coming bruises.
Stella kicked her legs and struggled to stand. The pirate’s silver hook scraped down her arm. The skin burned as though she’d leaned up against a metal pole in the summertime. A line of blood rose to the surface through the slice.
“Your fault,” Hook said. “You brought this on yourself, like all women do.”
Stella stilled, staring at the blood oozing from the wound. It reminded her of the way magma pushed up from fractures in bedrock. Drops of deep red splattered onto the floor, and crimson words writhed and grew out of them.Your fault. Another failure. Disappointment.Her stomach rolled, and she would have pitched forward if Hook hadn’t held her so tightly. Warm blood slid down her arm and across her palm.
“You’ll be sorry you chose him. After what he did to me, the least I can do is take away what he seems to care about.”
The world tilted beneath her, but she clenched her jaw and fought Hook. Her sudden movement startled him, and he lost his balance, which allowed Stella to gain hers. She slipped out of his grasp, and he lunged for her, slashing his hook toward her face.
Stella darted out of the way, but the hook caught on the hem of her shirt and ripped through the fabric. She scrambled away from him and ran toward the main staircase, overturning chairs behind her.
Hook leaped over the chairs and stopped to pick one up. He hurled it at her. The chair caught Stella in the back of the legs,knocking her forward. She slammed into a bookshelf and desperately tried to grip a shelf’s edge for balance. She pulled herself up and yanked off books to throw at Hook.
He batted them away, until one book caught on his hook. While he tried to sling it from the sharp silver point, Stella lifted a chair as high as she could and flung it at him. One of the legs cracked against his jaw and spun him away from her.
Her gaze zeroed in on the sword hanging in his scabbard. She recognized it as one that had been encased in the archives—a mysterious sword of unknown origin discovered in Blue Sky Valley a few hundred years ago. The ruby-studded hilt caught the light, and the crimson jewels sparkled like warning lights.
Hook turned back toward her with his fist pressed against his bruised jaw. He glowered, his blue eyes menacing. He yanked the sword from its scabbard and pointed it at her.“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Stella ran. With her arms pumping and legs aching with effort, she sprinted toward the staircase. Within seconds she realized the pirate was much faster. He ran up an aisle parallel to hers and rounded the end of the bookshelf, wielding the stolen sword.
She lurched to a stop, nearly barreling into Hook. With his footing firm, he swung the sword at her head. She tripped over her feet as she staggered backward, arms windmilling for balance but unable to grasp anything to stop her fall.
