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I hurried after him, my heart rabbiting against my ribcage, only to have my stomach turn inside out seconds later. “How in the f…fuck?”

Bane scanned me from head to toe, a manic grin pulling his lips too wide and flopping onto my bed. “Welcome home,” he uttered, humor evident in his voice. Seeming to ignore my mute, rigid stance, and continuing to lounge on my bed, he pointed at the bookshelf across the bedroom. “I believe that is what Huff was talking about.” He eased onto his forearms, tilting his head back and broad chest expanding as he inhaled leisurely as if scenting my bedding.

For some absurd and illogical reason, my pussy throbbed around air. Why is that such a turn-on? Does he like the way I smell? My hands balled into fists. Gah, what am I thinking?

I eyed him for another minute, then gasped, pulse pounding in my ears. “How in the fuck?” I repeated, throwing my arms out, fingers spayed. “That's been there the whole time!?”

“Yes,” Bane admitted.

My palms slapped against my thighs as I dropped them. “I don't understand.” Closing my eyes, I took a few minutes to just breathe and rub my temples. Heart rate somewhat returning to normal, irritation spiked. “I loathe not understanding,” I ground out through gritted teeth, glaring at Huff and Bane.

His lips pushed to the side as he whispered something in Heechu to Huff. I need to learn to speak Heechu as soon as possible. This is ridiculous.

My eyes drifted to the bookcase, widening when Huff suddenly appeared. What did Bane call it? Winking? Either way, it’s some form of teleportation.

The Heechu spoke in his language and lifted his hands, er, paws, a book wiggling its way free and floated to me, seemly guided by Huff. I caught it as Bane translated. “He says these grimoires go back centuries from covens all of this world and others.”

My fingers stroked the smooth, worn leather cover, a thought percolating. That particular bookcase in the library is on the second level, and my apartment is below ground…it’s just not possible.

“How is there a secret entrance to my apartment?”

“You’re still hung up on that?” Bane asked, pursing his lips and tapping his chin with a claw. “Magic.”

“Magic,” I repeated flatly, so done with his shit.

“You bet your arse.”

My belly swooped. “I'm beginning to understand there is much more about this world than I thought possible.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot against the carpet, shoulders slumping. “I really should be working. My gaze tracked from the secret entrance to the bookcase, then landed on the obscenely large grotesque. “Bane, get the hell off my bed. Also⁠—"

He chuckled and patted the mattress. “This is actually my bed. You're the one who's squatting in my apartment.”

I recoiled. “In what reality is it your apartment?”

He shrugged. “It’s not complicated, Honeybee. The librarian disappeared, I moved in, then you moved into the already claimed space.” His tail swished lazily over the comforter. “So, it would seem we live together. Not my fault that you were unaware of that fact.”

My mouth opened and closed. How am I supposed to respond to that? Briefly I closed my eyes, deciding to let it go. For now.

I scoffed, jutting my chin at the shelves. “Can you bring some of these books…”

“Grimoires,” he offered, interrupting me.

“Right. Can you bring a few to the check in desk so I can look at them while I work?” My hands trembled slightly and the fine hairs raised along the nape of my neck as I tried, and failed miserably, to wrap my mind around the fact that there were shelves stuffed with magic mere feet from where I slept.

Did I have any issue with Bane, a living, breathing grotesque…does he even need to breathe? Uh, I’ll circle back to that…or Huff, a fantastical creature I wouldn’t ever have thought to dream up even in my most outrageous musings, being real?

No. Of course not.

Shit, even my thoughts were sarcastic today.

So, why does the existence of grimoires spook me so badly? Perhaps, it was their potential. Anything could be contained within them.

I learned a great deal studying gothic architecture, especially when I visited the UK and toured old castles during my senior year of college. It was an other-worldly experience actually getting to touch and explore everything in person not just from a textbook. There’s a somewhat terrifying, unknown essence surrounding old world gothic structures, as if there were life imbued into their creation, from the foundation to the tallest spire.

Perhaps those ancient architects left a bit of their souls carved into the stone and wood. I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to stave off the goosebumps forming. Knowing what I do now. It’s entirely possible.

The bed frame creaked as Bane leapt to his feet, ripping me from my thoughts.

“Absofuckinglutely,” he said cheerily, sweeping at least twenty books off the shelves into one arm, and contorted himself to slip over the threshold into the library.