“Part of my charm.” He tears open a bag of chips with his teeth. “Find anything?”
“Not yet.” I flip another page. “The problem is that every text assumes the bite victim is human. Or at least not already a shifter. There’s nothing about what happens when awolfgets bitten by a werewolf, especially not a reanimated one.”
“Because it basically never happens.”
“Right.” I take a sip of Coke. It’s not cold enough, but I drink it anyway. “So we’re working without a map. And the one person who might actually know something is a siren who apparently works for the Council and has quote unquote ‘shitloads of psychic powers.’”
“Don’t forget the part where he called Sean a ‘tall, thick glass of water.’”
“I’m trying to forget that part, actually.”
“So is Sean.”
We lapse into silence. Micah crunches his chips while I read. The library is quiet around us, the soft hum of the HVAC system providing white noise. It’s almost peaceful, if you ignore the existential dread lurking underneath everything.
I’m reaching for another book when a familiar voice pierces the quiet.
“Is he bothering you, Queen?”
I look up to find Sadie is standing at the end of our table, messenger bag slung across her chest, black lipstick freshly applied. Her blue-black hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she’s wearing what appears to be a vintage band t-shirt for something called “The Screaming Banshees.”
Feels a tad redundant, but I already feel like I know what their music sounds like just by the name, so I guess not.
Micah scowls, but it’s half-hearted. “I’m literally just sitting here. Besides, you’re my sister. Aren’t you supposed to be onmyside?”
“Nope.” She drops into the chair next to me, already digging through her bag. “You lost those privileges when you ate my leftover Thai food last semester.”
“It was on the communal shelf!”
“There’s no such thing as the ‘communal’ shelf, you furry pig.”
I watch them bicker, trying to hide my amusement. The sibling dynamic is comfortingly familiar.
And it makes me miss Cadence, but this isnotthe time to bring her up to speed on my circus.
I’ve been sending a steady flow of memes and anecdotes about the mild irritations of living with a pack of frat wolves so she doesn’t get suspicious. Our message thread screams “nothing to see here,” and she was chastising me for not asking for a raise from Villeneuve already just last night, so I think I’ve successfully kept her in the dark.
For now.
Sadie pulls out a massive stack of papers and drops them on the table with a thud that rivals Micah’s earlier book dump. “I did some digging into that creepy siren guy like you asked.”
I go still. “We didn’t ask you to do any digging.”
“Okay, fine.” She shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “But I was bored, and those Council freaks who think they get to police everyone’s magic when itliterallycomes from nature are kind of my special interest.”
“Special interest or personal vendetta?” Micah teases.
“It can be both. You’re welcome.”
Micah stares at the stack. “This is like a whole book. Why didn’t you just do it digitally?”
“And miss the chance to create a dossier on the target like Nancy Drew?” Sadie looks genuinely offended by the suggestion. “Where’s your sense of drama?”
“I think we read different books in that series,” I say dryly. “I don’t remember that case.”
Sadie waves a dismissive hand. “Nancy absolutely would have gone the dossier route if she was in my position.” She flips open the top folder, revealing what appears to be a printed photograph from a magazine. An old one. “Anyway. In addition to the fact that he’s insanely hot?—“
“Is he?” Micah squints at the photo. “I guess if you like guys who look like fantasy elves.”
