by D. R. Perry
I came out next to a cherrywood railing around a large, square room. Bookshelves lined the walls to my right, filled with volumes older than my grandparents, judging by the smell. So this was it—the Nocturnal Lounge in the PPC Student Union.
I walked down a half-flight of steps to get out of the mini library and into the lounge proper. Comfy couches and chairs sat next to tables of varying heights. None of the furniture matched, even though it was all antique and decently maintained. I followed my nose to the kitchenette in one corner, the source of the cocoa smell. An electric kettle heated the water I poured over one of the better brands of the powdered instant stuff. I added a splash of cream from the tea station, feeling like I might need more calories than I could get from the beverage and a handful of twice-baked almond biscotti. The cheeseburgers were a fond and distant memory to my stomach.
I hadn’t seen Henry on my way in but knew he was there. Vampires had a distinct smell that Henry actually took pains to try to downplay. I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he used to balance it. Vampires smell sort of like diabetics to a shifter, but more dried out if that makes any sense. Blaine called it “Eau de blood-sugar mummy.”
I didn’t worry one bit about Henry or any other registered vampire biting me either. They could use blood from pretty much anything that had it, but the laws said that they had to get it from bags at hospitals. From what I’d learned, they considered blood from any kind of shifter similar to drinking one of those Slimfast shakes. I reached for the tray of biscotti, my elbow bumping someone.
“Hey.” It was a man’s voice, familiar from somewhere, and recently.
“Hey, yourself.” I turned my head to see Tony the cat shifter from the dining hall. “I didn’t think cat shifters were nocturnal.”
“We are when we’re at school for Nocturnal History. We’re circadian chameleons.” Tony crunched a cookie, not even bothering to dunk it in his coffee. “Half my Professors are vampires. The other half are Lords or Ladies in the Goblin King’s court.”
“Huh. How’s that going for you?” There were two Faerie courts, the Goblin King’s and the Sidhe Queen’s. Those two had been married way back before recorded history, but now they had enough issues to make a whole library’s worth of graphic novels.
“Pretty decent.” He stepped back and gave me room to grab a pile of pastry.
“I’d heard that’s a tough crowd.” I stirred my cocoa, trying to break down the clumps of powder before taking a sip.
“Not for me.” Tony shrugged, lifting the right side of his mouth in a sly half-smile at the same time. “I’ve got some bonuses to my Charisma stat.”
“Good on you for listening to the DM, then.” I tried not to let my nostrils flare. There was something about Tony that made me think he was more than just a regular cat shifter, but I couldn’t place it just by the smell.
“So what’s a nice diurnal bear like you doing in this Den of Darkness?” Tony jerked his chin toward the center of the room. I hadn’t noticed before, but the people I’d taken for human sharing the space with vampires and nocturnal shifters weren’t. They all had a slightly spicy scent.
“Are they all Changelings?” I’d met a few in some of my required courses, but none of these in particular. Changelings were young faeries who hadn’t grown into their power yet.
“Yup.” Tony was a shifter too, so he knew what I meant. “These are the Unseelie ones. And I know you already met the other kind.”
“You mean—” I cut myself off at Tony’s wide-eyed stare. I could almost see a long, bristling tail behind him.
“No. Don’t say the s-word in here.” I hadn’t seen anyone with skin as olive as Tony’s get pale that fast before.
“Okay.”
“Seriously, didn’t anyone tell you they almost had an all-out war right in the middle of Water Place Park this past summer?” Tony leaned against the counter with a casual confidentiality that made me realize he knew more gossip than my old neighbor, Mrs. Biddie.
“No.” I avoided the rumor mill like the plague, just in case I was on it. Tony might be a good guy to stay on good terms with. He seemed even more in the loop than Blaine, especially with the Night School.
“Well, I’ll tell you about it some other time.” He shuffled his left foot a few times, then placed it firmly back on the floor., making it clear the silence wasn’t comfortable. I remembered his insistence that he owed me a favor. Maybe Tony would feel better if I asked him a question.
“Have you seen Henry Baxter?” I sipped my cocoa, grimacing as the silty crunch of what had to be the last powder clump scraped the roof of my mouth. “I’m here to meet him.”
“Oh, he’s up there.” Tony waved vaguely at the bookshelf walkway I hadn’t bothered circling all the way around.
“Thanks,” I grinned, hesitating over the biscotti. “I don’t particularly like this stuff, but it looks like it’s all I’m likely to get at this hour.”
“This is the Night School. It runs on a totally different schedule than the rest of PPC.” Tony grinned. “All the Changelings have to eat, plus shifters like me. Meals show up here three times a night. Those cookies were just what was left from breakfast. Henry might not think to tell you, but the skeleton crew brings in pizza at low noon.”
“’Low noon?’” I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask what he meant by “the skeleton crew.”
“It’s what they call midnight in the Nocturnal Lounge.” Tony’s smile reminded me of that disappearing-reappearing cat who kind of helped Alice.
“There’s a whole subculture here, patois and all, huh?”
“Yup.” Tony grinned again. “Totally fascinating, and hanging out here is as educational for me as some of my lectures. But then, I’m the guy who decided to take four years out of his life to study it all. You can’t exactly consider me an unbiased source.”
“That’s okay. You’re my only source.” I smiled, realizing I liked Tony almost as much as I liked Blaine. The cat shifter was a little dodgy, but also joyfully enthusiastic about being here. He smiled back, letting a little chuckle out under his breath.
“Nice as it is talking to you, Bobby, you should go and see Henry. Vampires can get absorbed in complex stuff like he’s working on tonight. He’s safe from the sun in here, but the staff gets kind of miffed if the vamps stay here all day too often.”
“Thanks.” I waved to Tony at the foot of the steps, then went up. I turned left to cover the area I hadn’t gone through on my way from the door.
Henry sat at a long table that was most likely from the library before they renovated it. He was tinkering with what looked like a pocket watch on a long velvet ribbon, using tools that were definitely not for watchmakers. I approached slowly, shuffling my feet on purpose as I went. It was a bad idea to sneak up on a vampire, even if I was the opposite of prime rib to their palates.
“Hello, Bobby.” Henry didn’t look up. “It can’t be low noon yet because you’ve got biscotti.”
“Does that mean you’re making good time on that project?” I sat in the chair across from him, setting my cocoa and snack down before taking out Lynn’s Ecology flashcards.
“Nope.” Henry sighed, dropping a piece of amethyst on the table and running his hand over the top of his head. “This is the mother of all memory charms. I’m not sure I can finish it without something that belongs to the person it’s for.”
“Can you call your client and ask?” What Henry was up to looked much different than what he’d done with the coin around my neck.
“I was hoping someone here knew her, but no such luck.” He forgot himself and smiled full-on, showing his fangs. “Sorry.”
“I turn into a huge bear.” I smiled back. “Fangs don’t bug me unless they come with a threat.”
“Let me guess. Nobody wants to see us when we’re angry?” Henry’s grin was closed-lipped but his eyes twinkled.
I just laughed, continuing when he joined in right away. For an undead guy older than my dad, Henry was all r
ight. More than that. He’d invited me here to help me even though he didn’t have to do anything but make the amulet Blaine had paid for. I had good friends.
“Anyway, I have to ask because you run in different circles than I do. Have you ever heard of a girl named…” Henry pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. “Maddie May?”
“Um, no.” My nose twitched with the scent of jasmine, myrrh, and charcoal. “Wait. That paper smells familiar. Can I see it for a sec?”
“Sure.” He handed it over, and I sniffed it.
“This smells like something in Lynn’s room, but I can’t remember what.” I handed the paper back to him. “Maybe there’s no connection.”
“Lynn Frampton?” Both of Henry’s eyebrows went up, making his widow’s peak appear more pronounced.
“Yup, that’s the girl.” I couldn’t help myself. I sighed.
“Hmm. She was there with you at the dining hall earlier.” Henry checked some notes in a leather-bound journal, then looked back at the brass circle in front of him.
“Yes. She was with me, all right.” I surprised myself by letting out another wistful sigh instead of a yawn.
“Nice. She’s a smart girl.” Henry glanced up, looking me in the eye. “Also, my client’s roommate.” He flipped the paper over, showing me writing I hadn’t bothered looking at. There was Lynn’s name, right next to Maddie May’s.
“She’s asleep right now, but I have something.” I pulled a pen out of the side pocket on my backpack. “I borrowed this from her desk last night. Not Lynn’s. The girl’s.” I snapped my fingers, trying to think of the other girl’s name. I’d just read that card and already couldn’t remember it. “Your client.”
“Wow, dude.” Henry took the pen, holding it point-down over the bronze disk he’d been working on. “This is kismet, you know that? I owe you one.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “You’re keeping me from hibernating and flunking out of school.”
“Are you sure?” Henry raised an eyebrow. “Favors are kind of a big deal in nocturnal circles, you know.”
“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Tony goes on and on about it. But just like a favor’s a big deal to vampires and Fae, it’s not one to bears. I’ve got to be me.”
“I get that.” Henry bent his head over the amulet again, pressing a seam along one side until it popped open. Then he held the pen against a piece of smoky quartz inside. “What I don’t get is how you’ve managed to stay awake at all. It’s been what, two nights since the snow?”
“You try sleeping while an angry dragon shifter blows smoke rings at your face all night. And Lynn’s even more of a taskmaster than Professor Watkins.”
“Ouch.” Henry sounded like something had actually hurt him.
“What just happened?” I looked around and saw nothing but a book a little out of place on the shelf behind him. The spine said, Umbral Affinity and You: A Guide to Collecting Your Recollection. I pulled the book down and set it on the table next to Henry. “I think this hit you.”
“Huh.” He flipped the back cover open, revealing a pocket with a card inside. One name in a curly cursive script was written on it over and over. “I wonder who Alice is, and why she couldn’t write her last name legibly. Anyway, this book pops out at me just about every night I’m up here. Means the skeleton crew’s arrived.”
“Skeleton crew?” I’d almost forgotten Tony had mentioned them.
“Check it out down at the counter.” Henry jerked his chin at the kitchenette. “I’ll just lie low up here and keep an eye on this book until they’re gone.”
I stood up, not wanting to miss the chance to see something new. Down at the counter, the trash can emptied itself into a bin on a cart. Stirrers straightened themselves, and a cloth wiped the surfaces clean. The tray of biscotti slid into a cabinet on the side of the cart at the same time as a platter of pizza eased out and settled in its place. It was a relief to see that the Nocturnal Lounge’s attendants weren’t actual skeletons. Still, I hadn’t encountered real ghosts before. At least, not that I knew of.
“Weird.” I turned back around to see Henry bent back over his project again. “Do you want anything?”
“No thanks, but you’d better hurry if you want something. Fred Redford’s here. He’ll eat all that pizza if you don’t grab a slice now.” Henry waved his hand toward the stairs leading down to the lounge area. “Pizza’s not my thing, remember?”
“Okay.” I went back down, bringing my half-full cup of tepid cocoa and the crumb-filled napkin with me. As I tossed them in the bin, someone elbowed past me. He was about my size, with that spicy Changeling scent and a bright red hat perched on a head with shaggy nut-brown hair. From the way he piled half the pizza on a plate, he had to be the Redford fellow Henry had mentioned.
I squeezed next to him and grabbed three squares of bread, sauce, and cheese. When I reached for more, he glared at my hand. I growled, thinking maybe Unseelie types might respond like bear shifters. He grunted back and looked up, narrowing hazel eyes.
“Bear’s not the only one with an appetite, Yogi.” His voice was melodic and rich, not at all what I expected.
“Still got one.” I glanced at the self-bussing tables. “Won’t they just bring more if we take it all?”
“Maybe. I like the cut of your jib. Name’s Fred.” His hand tapped the bill of his hat. Maybe Unseelie Changelings avoided shaking hands, or maybe it was just his particular type. I didn’t know anything about them except that they varied.
“I’m Bobby,” I smirked, glancing at his plate. He’d taken three-quarters of the pizza. Combined with my share, the whole tray was empty. “I’ve got to respect an appetite like that. Mine’s mostly my bear, but the rest comes from growing up in Cajun country. Where did you get yours?”
“I come from a long line of Redcaps. We do everything big.” He shrugged. “My brother brought an Italian friend to lunch at our house once. She said we had more food than they do at Christmas dinner. Ate more of it, too.”
“How much was that, exactly?”
“All of it.” He chuckled. “You take every table in here and cover it with plates of food, then cover them again. That’s how much food we had at lunch that day.”
“Woah.” Something invisible bumped me to the side. “Hey, look. They did bring more.”
Fred and I moved over as another tray of pizza hovered its way to the counter. Once it had landed, he went back in for more. He’d already eaten half of what was on his plate by the time he stacked more on. I snagged a few more slices myself. The cart wheeled through a door near the counter. After it closed, I couldn’t tell it was there.
“I’ve got studying to do,” Fred said around a mouthful of pizza. “Later.”
“Bye.” I took a napkin out of the dispenser and headed back to Henry. He was still hunched over the amulet, tinkering away. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, of course. Bear shifters had no way to sense psychic power or most magic. Blaine would know how Henry’s work was going from halfway across the room. I had to rely on how Henry looked.
I saw a flash of white at his mouth—a smile. The pen must have helped, then. I sat down and settled in, munching pizza and studying flashcards. It’d be a long night, but at least the novelty of my surroundings and the good company would be more than enough to keep me awake. They’d also keep my mind off going back and curling up next to Lynn like I wanted to.
I’d wait until she was rested to see her. She was worth it.
Chapter Twelve
Lynn
I knocked my phone off the nightstand when the alert sounded, opening my eyes to late-afternoon light. I’d missed my alarm. I reached down and fumbled the rectangle of glass and plastic off the floor. A tap and a swipe revealed the message that it would snow again later tonight. I didn’t recognize the app. Maybe it was wrong.
“Joy. Not!” I nearly flung the phone across the room. More snow meant hard mode flipped into nightmare mode for Bobby. I had to drag my ass out of bed ri
ght away and get presentable. I definitely had to not break my phone over a stupid weather report app. It could be wrong. It had to be. The patch of sky outside my window looked too clear to turn stormy. Then again, this was New England, where people always said, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.”
I dragged myself out of bed, unable to go back to sleep even if there'd been time and I wanted to. My adrenaline had kicked up its heels and was having a hootenanny all over my body. Hootenanny just made me think of Olivia the owl shifter and her “Hoo, boy” by the elevator the night before. And of course, that made me think about everything Bobby and I had done afterward. I shivered, realizing I’d forgotten I’d slept in the nude. Glancing around, I hunted for something to wrap myself in.
I needed a shower, although it should probably be a cold one. The memories from the night before had me hot and bothered. I wrapped my robe around me and picked up my bath stuff. It felt like I’d just had a shower, almost as though being with Bobby had been a dream. The pleasant, languid ache in my hips told me otherwise. I wondered whether he was thinking of me, and shivered because maybe he wasn’t.
The hall was empty, so I sighed down it, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. I wasn’t even sure why I felt like such an idiot. I should feel like I’d won the dating lottery. Bobby definitely liked me, maybe even more than that. The feeling was mutual. The sex was almost as amazing as he was, and he’d implied he thought he’d underperformed. I didn’t feel like an outcast around him and didn’t feel like I’d scare him away with either my smarts or my smart mouth. So what was my malfunction?
I turned on the water, opting for scalding instead of freezing. Biologically speaking, cold showers did nothing for the female anatomy. My brain was being kind of a jerk, knowing all this stuff and thinking racy thoughts, anyway. As I stepped under hot water that had actual pressure because everyone else was at the library or dining hall, I realized a big personal truth.