Chapter One
No matter how many times I visited the Book Haven, I always had trouble believing it was a hub of supernatural knowledge. It just seemed so unassuming. A book lover’s paradise sure. With thirty two rooms crammed full of books, it was a maze that any Columbus dwelling book nerd would be overjoyed to disappear inside.
It was even popular with the out-of-town crowd since it was also one of the largest independent bookstores in the U.S. still in business. It didn’t hurt that it had that old world charm that made German Village popular with tourists and hipsters. The building started life as a saloon before at some point being taken over by word loving entrepreneurs. Since then it had grown and assimilated the neighboring general store and cinema to become the unnavigable monstrosity that it was.
I nearly tripped on the uneven brick path leading to the alleyway entrance. The path was lined by bushes and trees. Spring had come early this year and some of the plants were already beginning to bloom way ahead of schedule. Daft things didn’t realize in a day or two the weather would flip, as it always did in Ohio, and the frost would kill everything but the hardiest.
“Welcome to the Book Haven,” a man greeted me as I stepped into the tiny nook serving as the store’s entrance.
I waited as he checked out a woman and her two kids. Then I suppressed a sigh as a tall man in t-shirt and shorts stepped into the already cramped space. The guy looked like his frat days weren’t far behind him.
The greeter looked at me expectantly as the woman and her horde filed past me. I gestured to the other man and said, “You can help him first.”
“Are you sure?” the frat boy asked. He had blond hair, muscles bulging out of his body like they were trying to multiply, and towered over me by a foot.
No, I just said it because it’s the exact opposite of what I want. I fought to keep the snarkiness off my face and nodded. Why do people always ask that? I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.
I waited, semi impatiently as the man checked out, and stepped up to the counter as soon as he left. The cashier pushed a map toward me. I glanced at it briefly and smiled. Wasn’t that cute? Not what I was here for but ok.
“I’m looking for the section on feline behavior,” I said with the politest smile I could muster.
The man paused and looked me up and down, his thin face a little skeptical at what he saw.
At five feet seven inches, I was just above average height. My grayish, blue eyes, while not a common color, were not memorable enough to stand out. If a group of people tried to describe me later, half would say my eyes were blue and the other half gray. Dark brown hair with red undertones framed a face full of angles and hard edges. The uncertain description worked in my favor as I was trying to get into somewhere I wasn’t exactly supposed to be.
I waited, hoping the code was still good from the last time I was here. Technically, I didn’t have the credentials to get into the hidden sections of the bookstore. The parts the normal public didn’t know about. The ones where people like me could find answers to their every question.
I knew I didn’t fit the profile of someone who normally requested that room. For one thing, to most of the supernatural world, my aura was too closely aligned to that of a human’s. Baby vamps barely registered on the power scale, and I was so new to the fanged ranks that I was practically in diapers.
I’d made sure to dress casually in jeans and a fitted blue t-shirt I’d gotten at a Colorado beer festival. My one nod to the slightly chilly weather was the rust colored leather jacket.
I arched one eyebrow at the man, letting him know I wasn’t pleased with the delay. He gave me a sidelong, suspicious look even as he drew a map from under the counter and handed it to me.
Some of the tension gathering at the base of my neck leaked away.
I snatched the map and turned away, not bothering to thank him. People in this world rarely said thank you, and I didn’t want to give him one more reason to think I didn’t belong.
It worked. I couldn’t believe it, but it worked.
I headed up the rickety, wooden steps and waited on the next landing until the couple descending had passed before heading up the next set of steps.
Despite the cool factor inherent in having a bookstore in a bunch of old buildings, it was a pain in the ass maneuvering through this place. I felt like an elephant in a china shop. The place was narrow, and in many spots you had to wait until oncoming traffic passed before proceeding.
Forget trying to sit in an aisle while you read. You’d be buffeted by the continuous coming and goings of every person tramping through this place.
A chain bookstore this was not. There were no comfy chairs to sit and peruse. No fancy coffee shop connected. And it smelled faintly of unfinished wood, mold and paper.
Still, it had been in business for a long time. Even longer if you took into account the hidden face of the bookstore. The one that served people like me. Or rather, people like who I was pretending to be. Powerful, connected, dangerous.
I took a look at the map and followed the blue line through one section after another until I stood in front of a roped off staircase. It had an exit sign that said “In case of emergency.”
Got to hand it to these guys. They had a sense of humor.
I tucked the map into my back pocket and glanced both ways to make sure I wouldn’t freak any unsuspecting normal out when I disappeared down the staircase.
Coast was clear. I threw one leg over the chain and stepped onto the top stair. Or at least that was my intention.
Instead I ended up tripping and falling when my foot landed much sooner than I expected. I ended up on all fours on the other side of the chain, staring down at red carpet with gold and cream detailing.
