Gatekeeper

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Gatekeeper Page 8

by Patti Larsen


  Liam actually blushed, making his freckles stand out. I hadn’t noticed how many there were under his tan until just now. “I know,” he said. “Go ahead, laugh. The geeky library guy.”

  “Nope,” I said, finishing my cookie. “I’m all for some geekage as long as it’s in my favor.”

  When he met my eyes again, I could tell he was feeling me out as much as I was him. It made me laugh suddenly and spit dark brown crumbs all over myself.

  Liam laughed too, that deep, warm sound I was starting to love.

  Gulp. Like. Definitely like only. No love involved.

  “See?” I brushed at the mess. “You’re not alone.”

  Liam nodded. “My grandfather was the town archivist,” he said. “And my dad worked there, too. Mom may have raised me in hair salons, but I got my start at the library.”

  “Then your help would be much appreciated.” The warning bell rang, echoing from the outdoor speakers over the property. I grudgingly packed up the remains of my lunch. “I’d like to check out the school selection first,” I said as we strolled back to the door. “Then maybe the town one.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He held the door for me. Sweet. It took a powerful amount of resistance not to wink at him.

  Enough flirting, Syd. The last thing I needed was another Brad Peters. It didn’t strike me until that moment, as Liam passed from the sunlight where his hair glowed red into the dimness of the school that I could have another latent on my hands.

  That would be all kinds of suckage. I’d almost ruined Brad’s life when his itty bitty talent latched onto mine and wouldn’t let go. Mind you, I knew far more now than I did when Brad was Mr. Obsession all over me. And if Liam was a latent, I’d be able to nip this particular relationship in the bud before he turned into the needy idiot Brad had.

  It would have to be done delicately. Even feeling around inside him could trigger the attachment. Latent power was so deeply buried it had no chance of accomplishing much. But when it came in contact with someone open, the need for that seed of magic to grow was so overpowering at times it drove the person to an almost thralled state to the witch.

  Mom would never forgive me if I let it happen again.

  Liam was waiting for me outside the library after class and helped me peruse the stacks. He wasn’t kidding about knowing his way around, leading me right to the section I needed. The books our school had to offer were pretty pathetic, but I checked them both out anyway while the librarian, Mrs. Pander, made squinchy faces at Liam and me before shooing us out so she could go home.

  I’d forgotten all about Ms. Spaft until Liam and I were almost to the front doors. I looked up with a funny feeling making my skin creep to see her standing directly in front of them, arms crossed over her chest. The few students who trickled out ahead of us dodged around her carefully. Just the sight of her standing there, doing her best to intimidate everyone, roused my demon and made her growl.

  “Side door?” Liam didn’t sound nervous, just offering a suggestion. I shook my head with a jerk and headed right for the horrible woman. She was wearing the same black wool suit with a rose colored blouse. Or maybe she owned a bunch of black suits. Wouldn’t surprise me. The tone of her shirt made her look like a badly animated corpse.

  “Miss Hayle.” She glared at me, staring me down.

  “Ms. Spaft.” In a moment of defiance I smiled sweetly at her. “See you tomorrow.”

  It brought me great pleasure, how her jaw clenched and tightened while her horribly stretched facial skin rippled in its attempt to pull forward from her very severe bun. I kept moving, forcing her to shift slightly to the side to avoid being hit.

  Score. I’d pay for it, I was sure. But I’d take it.

  “What does she have against you?” Liam was laughing so I knew he got the joke.

  “Not a freaking clue,” I said. “And I don’t much care, either.” I turned to head down the street into town only to have Liam walk toward the student parking lot. I followed him, curious, to an old VW Beetle, painted soft yellow with big daisies for hubcaps.

  He blushed again when I grinned at it. Twice in one day, had to be a record. “Mom’s car.”

  “I love it.” The old seats were totally refinished with new leather, nice and springy. The motor sounded like it was something straight out of a movie and as Liam pulled out, I found myself giggling.

  It was a short drive to town hall and the library archive. I’d never been inside the old brick building, but always thought it was cool. Huge white pillars flanked the entrance, the cliché clock ticking away at the pinnacle. The main library, a more modern, concrete structure, stood across the street. But Liam informed me the information I needed was in the older stacks, still housed on the second floor of the municipal building. It felt so small town USA my mood stayed happy until we passed through the main doors.

  The feeling I always had, the one telling me something paranormal lived here well before we did, came rushing at me like I’d stepped in it. When I felt it first, I was sure it was tied to Cesard, the Firblog magician who lay under the earth for so many centuries. But the touch of magic now engulfing me had nothing at all to do with him.

  “This way.” Liam didn’t seem to notice my dazed reaction. It’s a good thing he spoke up or I would have stood there in the big lobby, feet screwed to the ornate marble floor, absorbed in the tremors of power floating up from somewhere below me.

  We climbed the stairs and, as we did so, I felt the thrill of the magic fade. I turned and looked back down, as if I could see into the basement and what pulled at me from beneath the floor. I felt a surge of recognition and a shiver as I caught the image embedded in the marble tiles, impossible to make out until I stood above it.

  But the part of me that knew the design wasn’t me, per se. Shaylee gasped and prodded me sharply as the huge mosaic of a gate shrouded in a majestic tree took my entire attention.

  The Gate. So there was a real gate, was that it? Shaylee seemed to think so. But its purpose and why it was a threat was still beyond her ability to communicate. I felt the sense of doom, the vibrations of the earthquake from the last dream.

  No. Not an earthquake. Marching feet.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Syd?” I jerked around, meeting Liam’s eyes. His concern gaped wide open. “Are you all right?”

  Shaylee shivered within, going back to her fearful silence. But I had another piece of the puzzle. Which meant whatever the paranormal feel, the source of the strangeness in this town came from the touch of the Sidhe.

  So why was my fairy side so afraid?

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  Liam led me into the second floor library with a huge smile on his face. Now that I wasn’t acting all weird and freaked out, he seemed to genuinely enjoy being there.

  I’d managed to shove down my worry, hide it behind a smile and a veil of normal, but inside my mind churned. I barely registered the old carved bookcases at the front of the room, the heavy wooden desk or the vaulted ceilings painted with murals of beautiful people in old-fashioned clothing. Until I realized those murals were yet another hint, another depiction not of humans, mortals. Those paintings were of the Sidhe, no question.

  Who built this place, and why the connection to the fairy folk? My feelings about Wilding Springs weren’t just my imagination after all, though I wasn’t sure I was happy to be right about it.

  I looked back toward the library’s front desk just in time to spot the tall, stunningly gorgeous man who stepped out from behind it, a warm and yet oddly repellant smile on his face. Shaylee quivered at the sight of him before diving even deeper inside to hide. It left me wondering and with growing discomfort at the implications of her retreat as his green eyes settled on Liam, one large hand reaching out in welcome.

  “Lovely to see students here at our library archive,” he said in a voice of velvet and warm butterscotch. “Welcome. How can I help you?”

  Liam shook the man’s hand im
mediately, smiling back. “I’m Liam O’Dane,” he said.

  The man’s eyes flickered, but not with surprise, though he acted like he was startled by the revelation. Shaylee whispered to me from her hiding place, a breath of caution even as the librarian shook Liam’s hand. “Fergus O’Dane’s grandson, has to be.” For the first time, the man’s eyes found me. This time, his shock was genuine, confirming he was somehow connected to the Sidhe princess inside me. He hid it smoothly, offering me his hand as well, but I just gave him a little wave and hung back. As attractive as he was, as charming as he came across, there were all kinds of wrong about him none of the three of me liked. Even my demon hummed a soft protest, though I had no idea what it was about him Shaylee feared so much.

  “I’m Hall Venner,” tall, slim and stunningly beautiful said while the sweetness of his voice made my stomach turn slowly over. “Such a terrible tragedy, the loss of your grandfather’s knowledge. I was hired as his replacement.” He looked around at the library, though I noticed his gaze drifted over the carefully carved Sidhe figures and symbols rather than the books. “It is the greatest honor to fill his shoes.”

  “Daddo would be happy to know someone took over,” Liam said, voice soft and full of sadness. “I’ll tell him the library is in good hands when I see him again, Mr. Venner.”

  “Indeed.” Again that green gaze found me. This time, Shaylee reacted with so much anxiety I had to back up a step, pretending to look at a book on the rack next to me.

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  Again, she sent me the image of the Gate. And reinforced the oppressive feeling of danger. But this time, Venner’s face joined the mess. He was definitely connected to whatever was happening. Great. But how? And why did Shaylee know that?

  How did she know him?

  “We’re here for a school project, hoping to explore the archives for research.” Liam’s shoulders seemed to straighten as he stood there, chest swelling as if something in this place made him very happy. I guess old memories will do that to you. I was just as glad he kept Venner distracted.

  “Do you know your way?” The man tsked immediately. “Oh how silly of me, Liam. Of course you do.” Venner’s laugh gave me chills even though Liam seemed to be lapping up the attention like a happy puppy. “I’d love to talk to you about apprenticing with me, knowing your family history. That is, if you share your grandfather’s love for the quiet of books?”

  He might as well have offered Liam his deepest desire the way he beamed at Venner.

  “Thank you,” he said, enthusiasm oozing out of him. “I’d love that.” Liam paused a moment, losing his momentum. “But I’ll have to check with my mother.”

  “Of course,” Venner said, so smoothly I instantly thought of used car sales and lemons, especially when the man pressed one hand to Liam’s back as he led him deeper into the library. “And I can contact her personally, if you think it would help. I would be a shame, after so many generations, for there not to be an O’Dane in this building.”

  Liam’s cheeks flushed again. “Thank you, Mr. Venner.”

  Shaylee’s nervousness was so strong my nausea almost took over. She and I were about to have a very long conversation and she’d better have some answers or her little retreating act would be permanent.

  “Now,” Venner said, smiling at us both, “enjoy your research. And please, don’t hesitate if you need anything at all.”

  He waved us on, watching as we escaped into the stacks, without a library card or anything. I’m not sure why this fact added to my discomfort, being there without the requisite I.D.

  I was such a nerd.

  I followed Liam forward, feeling small and almost unwelcome as we stepped across the narrow carpet and back onto tile. The vaulted ceiling soared above us, tall, colorful windows casting a haze of light over the room. Part of me loved it, the elemental feeling of it while the rest of me hoped whatever fed this place didn’t squash me like a bug.

  “What was he talking about, the O’Dane thing?” I grabbed at Liam’s shirt, tugging him back. But he was too excited to stop and chat, eyes sparkling.

  “This way,” he said, vibrating with happiness. “I know exactly where to look for what you need.”

  We ended up in the far back of the stacks, near one of the huge stained-glass windows. I shuddered, thinking it felt more like a church than a library, if those church types worshipped the Sidhe. The imagery was everywhere, in the scrollwork Shaylee emerged to sigh over to the windows, and even the gold trees embedded in the occasional floor tile. The answers I’d been looking for were here all along, I’d just never thought to look.

  Liam crouched by the bookcase he’d chosen, running his long fingers over spines until he let out a soft, “ah-ha!” of pleasure. He pulled out three heavy, leather bound tomes and took them immediately to the small table by the window. I sat next to him, pulling my chair around so we could read with our heads together.

  No, I wasn’t flirting. I still had to figure out if he was a latent or not. But there was a tiny seed of something else on my mind, a suspicion growing moment by moment as he seemed to absorb the presence of the building like it filled him up.

  He wasn’t a witch, that much was clear. Nor was he a sorcerer. Mind you, I hadn’t explored far enough to honestly tell, but from what I’d observed of him he seemed to lean in another direction. One that took him down a path of power I was pretty sure he had no idea was his for the using.

  Before he could even open the first book I made my move. My hand darted forward, a ruse, as if I were also about to flip the cover, and encountered his. Only I let my magic out, feeling not just the texture of his skin, but what was underneath.

  I was, it turned out, a bit too open. The moment my power touched him, a thread of Sidhe magic snaked from me and into him, confirming what I suspected. And what I feared about Venner. At the same time Liam spun on me, eyes wide, that same line of energy flowing through his eyes, making the green flecks glow. And not to be outdone, Shaylee gathered up the memory of the Gate and the dream and the tall man at the front of the library and slammed it up against my consciousness as if she didn’t believe I understood.

  Liam jerked away from me, making it to his feet in a scraping of chair legs against marble. He rubbed his hand, frowning, turning without a word and disappearing as his long legs carried him out of sight around the bookcase.

  I shuddered back from the Gate image, the pressure of Shaylee’s fear, the understanding that Venner wasn’t the innocent librarian Liam thought he was. Or, maybe he was. If someone with pure Sidhe heritage was ever able to be an innocent librarian.

  Okay, message received. Something bad was coming, something of Sidhe origin and Liam was tied up in it. So was this town, this very building. Shaylee’s sense of urgency made goosebumps appear on my skin.

  “I get it, okay? You can stop.” I don’t know why I whispered to her instead of speaking with my thoughts, but it did the trick. She eased off and went quiet again.

  Before I could pull myself together completely, Liam appeared and dropped himself into the chair beside me. I started, letting out a little meep as he turned on me. Funny thing was, he didn’t exactly look surprised by the whole magic exchange moment.

  “You too?” The earnestness in his eyes begged me to tell him the truth. “I always thought I was the only one.”

  There was nothing I could say to satisfy him. Not without breaking the rules of the coven. And those rules were very important to me right now.

  “What do you mean?” Why did I have such a hard time lying convincingly? My attempts always came out so weak and pathetic. I felt the slow flush of blood reach my face, knew it was my turn to show my feelings through red cheeks. Only my blush wasn’t innocent.

  Liam’s need turned to skepticism and a bit of hurt. “Okay,” he said. “If you say so.”

  This time when he got up, he took his bag with him and didn’t look back.

  I so wanted to go after him. But there was noth
ing I could say. I struggled with my need to let him know he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t weird or different, while I forced myself to flip open the cover of the first book.

  Liam’s face stared back at me from a black and white photo, right there on the opening page. But it wasn’t Liam, not unless he somehow traveled back in time. I squinted at the tiny printing that told me the man I stared at was Connell O’Dane, Irish immigrant, who founded Wilding Springs in 1808.

  Did Liam know what I’d find in those three large books? I think it was likely. Maybe in his way he tried to share who he was, what he knew. I tapped my fingertips against the pages as I turned it over in my mind. What if he knew exactly what he was? And even better, what was coming? If he did, his help would be invaluable. And telling him about the coven wouldn’t be as big a deal, considering he was gifted himself.

  I had to talk to Liam after all. But before I did that, I had more reading to do.

  His family tree was an almost endless line of red-blonde men, who inherited the position of town historian, passed down generation after generation. From what I could tell, almost no one from the O’Dane family ever left Wilding Springs, being born, growing up, getting married and dying all in the confines of this place.

  When I reached Liam’s grandfather, Fergus, I shook my head. The O’Dane men were all pretty much carbon copies of each other. How freaky was that? But it confirmed even further Sidhe involvement, some kind of magical tampering with the family line.

  As for the town itself, it had a bland and practical history. Blessed with peace and prosperity, it never grew past a certain size, the borders of town the same for about a hundred years. Even the outlying areas weren’t developed yet. For a town this old, such growth restraint seemed odd, especially since everyone in it appeared to prosper.

  So if the town itself was magical, that would explain its history. How a freak tornado took out a huge swath of trees and homes on the outskirts in the early 20th century, but the downtown was untouched, as if someone wanted those homes destroyed.

 

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