Iris hid her smile until Selene was walking ahead of her through the stacks.
“Is this building spelled?” Iris asked as they walked deeper and deeper. So long, in fact, that it seemed impossible that they were in a normal Manhattan building—where everything felt somewhat narrow and shallow, but tall.
“It is,” Selene admitted. “It took me months to get the spell right. But there isn’t a single building in Manhattan that would be big enough to house all the books I wanted to be able to offer.”
She did have an enormous selection. Iris noted sectionsfor each paranormal creature, with history texts, species-specific self-help, and shelves featuring authors of that species.
On top of that, she had every genre of fiction written by human authors. Though some of her labeling took some getting used to.
Swords, Spells, and Poor Life Choiceswas where all the Fantasy lived.
Space: The Final Tax Bracketwas Science Fiction.
Plotless, but Award-Winningwas what she called Literary Fiction.
And, perhaps Iris’s favorite was the New Adult section that Selene dubbedApocalypse, but Make It Horny.
“Here we go. You get the comfy chair too,” she said, waving toward an oversized round chair. “And I even have the newest Caprica right here.” Selene pulled a thick hardcover off a shelf. “It’s actually about a mermaid. It’s the first time she’s written about one in her career. Though, given your current situation, maybe you want to avoid all things gilled and free.”
“I’m trying to sabotage my engagement,” Iris admitted, knowing she shouldn’t. But something about Selene told her that she could be trusted.
“Good for you. That’s my favorite section, by the way,” she said, gesturing over toward a three-bookcase-wide section:He Had It Coming.“Though, that’s usually when she ends up killing a dude who had it coming. I’m assuming you’re not going to murder the mayoral candidate.”
“He might be a walking campaign ad, but I don’t think he deserves to die for it.”
“That’s debatable,” Selene said, dragging a laugh out of Iris. “So, what’s the plan?”
“To make myself so undesirable from a political standpoint that he has no choice but to call it off.”
“Which lets you get off without being in trouble with the queen.”
“Exactly.”
“Have you made any progress?”
“Well, he looked about ready to pass out when I asked him about the health of his prostate this morning. That’s why I’m out in the city. Henry, Finn’s campaign manager, thought that immersing myself in the city might teach me more appropriate lines of conversation.”
“And, unfortunately for him, you ran into me. Someone who thinks helping to sabotage a high-profile political marriage is a public service. Do you want to stage a scandal? I know a guy. Actually, Iamthe guy.”
“I have some ideas. But I have three months, give or take, before the actual marriage.”
“Okay. Well, how many times are you going to see him between now and then?”
“Only constantly. After I poured my drink on him at our first meeting, my mother made me move in with him.”
“No way. Wait, don’t tell me there’s only one bed.”
“There’s only one bed.”
“No way. I would have thought with all the settlement money from the city, he would live in some giant penthouse or something.”
“He does live in a penthouse,” Iris said. “But there’s only a bedroom and a small office. My companion has claimed that as his own. What settlement?”
“Oh, huh. I thought that would have been in your welcome packet or something. Finn’s father was the D.A.”
“What’s a D.A.?”
“District Attorney. They prosecute crimes in the city. He was killed in the middle of a really ugly inter-species court case. Before she passed, Finn’s mom sued the state for not having better protections in place. I mean, what good was a human security guard going to do when paranormals started warring in the courthouse?
