“Bellamy.” Lowell said the name like a cartoon villain would, dragging it out with incredible distaste. “There’s another problem with this town. Young men like him leaving without a word of explanation, turning their backs on their heritage and?—”
“What heritage are you talking about, anyway? You keep going on about it. Virtue’s heritage, now I guess Mr. Bellamy’s heritage…I know Virtue was established a really long time ago, but what kind of heritage do you mean? Most of Virtue’s families have been here for a hundred or more years. None of you can really have that much connection to whatever European countries your ancestors came from, can you?” Vicki had started out exasperated, but genuine enthusiasm woke in her as she asked the questions. “Honestly, I’d really like to know, because ifthere’s some kind of significant heritage history or background I’m missing out on here, that’s terrible. I could be teaching it in school! That would be great!”
Arthur Lowell, however, turned nearly purple with rage as he spluttered a rejection of the idea. His eyes bulged, spittle actually forming around the corners of his mouth as Vicki watched in astonishment. He finally managed to say, “Never!Never! You’ll be the ruin of all of us!” before lurching away, visibly overcome with anger.
Vicki gazed after him in astonishment, torn between wondering if someone should help him out of his—hisapoplectic fit—and being oddly pleased to experience what could be rightfullycalledan apoplectic fit. She’d known the phrase meant ‘incoherently furious’ in common usage, but she’d never actually seen someone turn purple and wheeze with rage before.
If she’d liked him better—or at all—she might have felt a little bad about infuriating him that much, but as things stood, she could only mostly hope he wouldn’t actually work himself into physical collapse before he calmed down. She still watched him go, making sure he was all right, and finally shivered. The library was only a few blocks away, but after the encounter with Lowell, the idea of grilling Sarah the librarian about Zane Bellamy suddenly seemed rude and invasive.
That, and the cinema—a little locally-owned, independent, two-screen theatre was right around the corner. She could be there, warm, and eating popcorn while watching the latest, silliestStar Captainmovie in less than five minutes.
Zane was already long gone from Virtue. Digging up all the dirt on him could wait until tomorrow. Vicki, smiling, scurried off to make her brother happy by watching a movie.
CHAPTER 10
Alittle after two in the afternoon, Zane crept out of the B&B like a man afraid he was being hunted. Realistically, most of the media crush had left Virtue the night before, well ahead of the bad weather, and those who hadn’t were either staying in the town’s single large(ish) hotel, or outside the township in one of the bigger cities within an hour’s drive. But that was logic, which rarely had much impact on gut feelings, and his gut feeling wasthis will all go terribly, somehow.
If it does, we’ll run away,his wolf promised lazily.
The idea of turning into a wolf in front of the press corps and scampering into the woods was entertaining enough that Zane stopped worrying quite so much, which was exactly what the wolf wanted. It slept better when he wasn’t fussing. Unfortunately for it, he was by nature something of a fusser. Fussing over details made him very, very good at his job, but maybe made him slightly less good at the whole ‘getting through a day without panicking’ thing that so many people seemed to handle easily.
Of course, if he said that to Dion, his assistant would point out that that wasexactlywhy Zane paid him the big bucks. Dion had, in fact, made some discreet calls to make sure most of the mediawasgone, and Zane was fairly certain he’d also spoken with the Jones’s B&B ahead of time to request they not house any of the media while Zane was there. That was a big ask, but Dion would have played the home town advantage card, and from Zane’s memories of the Jones family, they probably would have obliged.
It was faintly possible Virtue wasn’tquiteas bad as he remembered it. Zane, collar up and shoulders hunched against the still-falling snow, squeaked and slipped his way through the back streets—as if Virtue was big enough to differentiate between the back streets and the main ones—to the library. Even if Sarah wasn’t there, he wanted to see the building again. It had been a refuge for years, and he hoped it would still hold some of that old comfort.
The door swung open and a burst of warmth and laughter met him as he climbed the snowy steps carefully. It was louder than he remembered, then. Smiling, Zane caught the door for a young mother trying to wrangle three kids under the age of five, all of them carrying their own library books. She mouthed ‘thank you,’ gratefully, and he smiled even more widely as he went into the library.
A wave of pure hometown nostalgia hit him along with the familiar scent of old books and, unexpectedly, cookies. He stepped to the side so he wouldn’t be in anyone’s way as he got his bearings, and found himself grinning stupidly at the comfortable old building.
Off to the right of the main doors was what he’d insisted on calling a bear pit when he thought he was a cool teenager. It was really the kid’s section, three steps down into a circular space lined all around with books and liberally scattered with pillowsfor young readers to lean on. There were tiny tables in there now, too, with coloring pages and signs that the intended audiences probably couldn’t read, saying,Books Are Not For Coloring In!
Beyond the bear pit, tables stretched through the middle of the library, with computers, students, and a couple of nappers set up at them. To their right was the fiction section, starting with books for older kids and working its way to adult fiction, all exactly like he remembered it. The library had been expanded since he’d last been there, and now swept around behind the studying tables in rows of non-fiction that led to what had to be soundproof booths on the left wall, along with doors that led into conference rooms. The checkout desk was right next to the front doors, on his left, and the woman behind it glanced his way as he came in.
A slow, startled grin split her face even though she turned her attention back to the family she was helping to check out, so Zane had a minute to take in his oldest friend. Despite his difficulty with faces, he could recognize her, at least in the context of the library.
Most of that was because in terms of fashion, Sarah Ekstrom hadn’t changed all that much: she still wore, and rocked, vintage style clothing. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes she did twenty years ago, obviously, but almost no one else would be wearing a blocky maroon jumpsuit with teal pockets and sleeves, very 1950s and setting off her dark golden brown skin tones very well. He would bet anything she was wearing stompy boots that didn’t go with the outfit, per se, but which went with her personal style flawlessly. So did the lion-colored braids she wore coiled around her head, a definite improvement on the fashion of their youth.
The thought actually made him laugh and lift a hand to his own hair self-consciously, remembering some truly epic mistakes that had been made. He was still grinning whenSarah disengaged herself from the desk and sauntered over to him, drawling, “Well, well, well, if Zane Bellamy hasn’t dragged himself back home again,” before hugging him so hard Zane actually squeaked. “Oh my God, Zane, look at you.Hi.”
“Hi.” Zane’s throat tightened up around the word as he returned the embrace. “Turns out I really missed you.”
Sarah said, “Of course you did,” into his chest, then backed up enough to grin hugely at him. “C’mon, I’ve asked Pam to take over the desk so I can catch up withmy best friend ever, oh my God!”
Half a minute later, she’d dragged him to one of the small rooms, which had a small table, a desk against one wall, recording equipment, two chairs, and the slightly muffled air of soundproofing. At least, Zane hoped that was why the air had that quiet feeling, because as soon as the door closed, Sarah shrieked, “Zane, oh my GOD HI!!!” and hug him again. “How are you? I mean besides rich and famous and likestupidlywell-dressed,lookat that coat—” She actually grabbed him by the lapels, not hard, but obviously admiring the workmanship in the long coat. “Dude, you never write, you never call…!”
That was true. They’d kept in touch through college, but as often happened, had slowly stopped communicating, until Zane no longer even knew how to reach her. He said, “Well, neither do you!”, but gestured at her in turn. “And look atyou, speaking of well-dressed!”
“Yes, we’re fabulous. Now sit and tell me everything. Who’s your favorite movie star client?” Sarah threw herself into a chair and beamed at him expectantly, but also barreled on, asking, more seriously, “Are you okay with being back in Virtue? And if it’s not weird,canI get your number? I mean it’s been a million years, but we used to be thick as thieves, and…” She trailed off, clearly suddenly uncertain.
Zane laughed and sat with a little more dignity. “Telling you who my favorite clients are seems like it would be betraying confidence, somehow. Virtue is…not as bad as I was afraid it would be, and yes, absolutely, give me your number and I’ll text you right now. The fact that I could actually still pick you out of a crowd…”
Sarah wobbled a hand as she rattled off her number, and Zane put it in to his phone, sending her a text as she said, “The library isn’t exactly a crowd, but…so the face blindness thing is still a thing, huh? That must be exciting, working with celebrities. God, Zane. Honestly, how are you?”
“I—” The incredible urge to tell Sarah about Vicki nearly overwhelmed him. She’d grown up in Virtue, but he didn’t think she knew about shifters—the truth was, maybe only a quarter of the population did—and he didn’t know how to break it to her. It felt like that entire argument with himself played out over his face, but instead of giving in to it, he said, “I met somebody,” a little cautiously.
“No.” Sarah positively gasped the word. “Where? Here? Not here! Not in Virtue, after you hauled ass out of here back in the day! Or wait, is it your assistant? He’s gorgeous. I’ve seen pictures of you two on the red carpet, you’re a gorgeous couple.”
Zane wailed, “No!” through a laugh. “No, Dion is really my assistant, not my secret boyfriend. “He is gorgeous, yes, but no, not my type. Which I thought you knew.”
