I lay stunned. No time to cry. Feel the pain later. Get to the car. He’s coming.
I staggered to my feet, ignoring the sharp twinge in my ankles and knees. My car wasn’t far. I needed to get out of there.
An ululating wail chased me as I ran for my car, fumbling for my keys as I moved.
I was out of time. The draugr was chasing me, and I didn’t think I could survive the coming fight without any weapons.
My hand touched cool metal. Got it. I pulled the keys out, my hands shaking as I turned it in the lock. I flung open the door and slid inside, not bothering with the seatbelt.
The wheels squealed as I pulled away from the curb. My eyes widened at the sight in the rearview mirror of the draugr chasing after me on all fours.
“Shit. You have to be kidding me.”
I floored the gas pedal, taking the next turn at the highest speed possible. I was not going to die here— and I wouldn’t wreck this car. For a tense few minutes, I kept above fifty watching anxiously in the mirror for any sign of the draugr. Only when I was satisfied it wasn’t chasing me anymore did I let the car slow to the speed limit.
Holy shit. That was scary.
I knew a lot more about what we were facing. The sorcerer was right. The thing was a draugr, and it was after something that had been stolen from it. I knew why its attack pattern was so random now. I was betting whoever had pointed the draugr in my direction had also been the one to steal its stuff. Whoever it was had been guiding the draugr to its victims. I was betting that there was an end target and the rest had just been collateral damage to hide the real motive. Either way, it was time for research.
I pointed the car toward the university. The best place to find information about a human war was a human historian. It just so happened I knew one of those.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
YOU’D BE SUPRISED at how many people are still working hard at a university long after eleven p.m. All of those graduate students high on caffeine, diligently hacking away at their thesis. Some of these kids kept odder hours than me. You had to be a little crazy to spend night after long night in a basement cubby or library.
The Ohio State University’s campus was among the largest in the world. As a teenager considering my options for college, its campus had intimidated the hell out of me. It was big and confusing, interwoven throughout Columbus in a sprawling maze of buildings, parks and paths. With roots going all the way back to 1870, OSU walked a fine line between the historical charm in some of its architecture and cutting-edge science in modern, state of the art, new buildings.
The person I was looking for would either be in the library or the building that housed all of the history classes.
I parked in one of the many garages and headed downstairs. The library and history department were in opposite directions. If I was a history graduate student on the cusp of finishing my dissertation, where would I be?
Probably the library archives. It fit with what I knew of her. She’d always been a bookworm, more content to bury her head in a make-believe world than come out and play with me.
OSU’s library was a four-floor beast of glass and metal. It was quiet as a grave, with students tucked inside books or hunched over desks. And they said books were dead. Looked like students still had to do their research the old-fashioned way here, with musty old books and notepads.
I headed down to the archives, getting turned around a few times. I’d only been there once and that was several years ago. No one challenged me as I meandered through the stacks. To them I was just another procrastinating student, intent on doing some last-minute research before a test or paper was due.
It felt weird being back in a college library. Familiar, but weird. This was the life Mom wanted me to embrace. Staying up late, ruining my eyes as I struggled to meet a professor’s unrealistic expectations. Somehow, I didn’t regret getting out when I did. As weird as the path my life had taken, it was at least interesting.
The archive section was under lock and key. I expected that. Some of the manuscripts they kept in the climate controlled rooms were hundreds of years old and priceless. Not something you let just anybody off the street come in to handle.
I headed to the empty library desk and tapped the bell. A sleepy looking college kid peered around the corner. I smiled as the early twenty something boy walked up to me, rubbing his curls, causing them to stick straight up. He looked so young, though he couldn’t have been more than five years younger than me.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Caroline Bradley.”
As long as this wasn’t his first day, he’d know who I was talking about. She was hard to miss and was here enough that it could be considered her second home.
“Uh, she doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s back there.”
Yup. That was my friend.
“Don’t worry. I can handle it.”
“I’m not really supposed to bother her.”
“Either go get her or let me back there. Trust me, she’ll want to know I’m here.”
