With the door opening, he let out a gust of air. “Oh, good. You are there. I just need that book I ordered. I need to work on that chapter, and I need that book.”
That sounded like a lot of need. Jeremy was working on his PhD thesis—one he’d been trying to write for quite some time. Occasionally, he was struck with inspiration and a frantic energy to get it written. That usually lasted for a few weeks and then he’d fall back into a paralyzed stupor, unable to move, much like he was right now, stuck on my porch.
“I’m closed but I do have the book. Give me a moment.” I closed the door and went behind the counter. I didn’t need more than the pale moonlight through the windows to find the one he wanted. I may not have been a crime fighter, like the others coming tonight, but I helped the ones like myself, who needed books to study, to dream, to escape.
His face was glowing when I returned with his book. “Thank you so much! This is the one I need to unlock the whole thesis. This is perfect.”
He started to take out his wallet, but I waved him off. “Pay me next time. I don’t have my computer up.”
He held the book to his chest. “Absolutely. You’re a lifesaver!” He jogged down the stairs and hopped into his car. Thankfully, no one was behind him because he spun out of his parking spot and barreled down the hill like he was on fire.
Two SUVs were parked beside Nick’s. The others must have gone around back while I was dealing with Jeremy. After closing and locking the door, I snaked through the bookcases toward the murmuring voices and the dim lamplight.
I’d pulled a coffee table down from the attic since the last time we’d all met. I’d used some of my parents’ old things in my apartment upstairs. I didn’t need much, though, so the majority of what had been in our house when I was growing up was now in my attic. I should have thought to bring more down here years ago, but even the couch had seemed like an indulgence. Bookstore browsers didn’t need a couch. I was the one who used it when I was reading and feeling lazy.
Arthur took the single leather chair that matched the couch. Declan and Arwyn sat side by side on the couch. Last time, I’d had to sit on the floor because I hadn’t had enough seating. Along with the coffee table, though, I’d also brought down two wingback chairs in a dark green brocade that my mother had loved.
Nick sat in one and left me the other. He also seemed to have brought out the cheese, crackers, and glasses of water.
Gesturing to the refreshments, he said, “I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head and sat. “I appreciate the help.” I glanced at Arthur. “Can I ask, before we begin, does this group have a name? I like to know how to refer to things.”
Arwyn grinned. She was breathtaking. She had an ethereal beauty that better belonged in Faerie than in this world. She had big, bright green eyes, and long, curly hair in a multitude of colors. It was mostly brown, but also red, gold, and black.
Declan, her werewolf Alpha boyfriend, kept an arm around her. He had to have been at least a foot taller than her, with warm brown eyes, a chiseled jaw under a beard, and wavy brown hair. His physique broadcasted strength, but she felt like the real power in that couple.
Arwyn leaned forward. “I asked him the same thing. I like to name things, and I told him this group needed one. He blew me off,” she added on an eye roll.
Arthur took a large hunk of honeyed brie on his plate with a handful of crackers. “Once you give something a name, it becomes less secret.”
“I’ve been calling it the Justice League in my head,” I told them.
Declan laughed. “That’s how I refer to it too. Arwyn calls it the Shadow Conspiracy.”
“We could just call it the Tetherball Team,” Nick suggested. “That doesn’t sound like a supernatural crime-fighting crew.”
Everyone but Arthur laughed.
I took a sip of water. “The problem with that, though, would be people asking if they could join the team or watch us play. It seems to me that it would need to be something no one would want to do.”
“We could just say we’re playing D&D,” Arwyn suggested.
Declan laughed. “Ours would be the only campaign that had real wicches, elves, and werewolves.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “Let’s table that for now.” He turned to Nick. “Why did you call us here?”
Nick explained what had happened with his cousin and then he turned to me. I told them about Harold’s dog, the missing cat poster, the boneyard in the ravine, and then what happened under Rocky Point Bridge.
Declan tapped his fingers on his knee. “So you couldn’t see it, but you felt it and sort of perceived its outline. What shape was the outline?”
“I don’t know.” I closed my eyes, trying to recall it in my head. “It felt like he was crouched, tucked up directly under the bridge, away from direct sunlight. When he started to move, it was more like an unfurling, if that makes sense. I couldn’t see anything more distinct than a boulder-shaped outline because he was just beginning to stretch out to his proper size.”
I shook my head and took another sip of water. “I know it sounds mad, but he was there. His presence was cold and made my stomach cramp. He felt dangerous; malevolent, even. He was pissed that I was in his space. I get that same feeling sometimes when I fly into another predator’s territory.”
A shiver ran through me, like I was shaking out my feathers. “I moved because I saw the dog, but even if I hadn’t seen him, I was getting ready to fly away. I felt his focus on me.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension. “I don’t enjoy feeling like prey.”
“You’re saying he and his,” Arthur observed. “Is that a default for a creature you can’t identify, or did you get the impression it was male?”
