by Mia Harlan
“How’s your bunny shifter, dear?” Five points. There you go, Violet, just act normal. “I haven’t seen him at the library in a few weeks.”
“He’s fine.” Amber’s form flickers. Amber. Troll. Amber. “Just taking a break. A vacation. He’ll be back to work any day now.”
Amber shifts into a troll again.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I say quickly. Especially since she’s really making it sound like the poor bunny got fired. He’d always be working so hard, too, sitting by the window with his nose glued to his laptop. “I do hope he’ll be back soon.”
Back to work and back to the library. He’s been my only source of information about my sister—even if it was just the occasional tidbit.
“He will be!” Amber, still a troll, growls, and quickly shifts back. “Anyway, I should run. I have to get back to the cafe.”
And with that, she races toward the door and out of my life, just like she did all those years ago. Last time, she left me with nothing. This time, I’m holding her paperback.
Will reading it help me get to know my big sister? Probably not, but I still turn to page one.
Chapter 4
Liam
“I don’t see her,” I tell Bert as I parallel park in front of Spell Library. I scan the unoccupied benches and vacant steps. Nothing.
“She’s probably inside.” My partner pulls open the glove compartment and starts taking out essentials. Black gloves. Baseball cap. Sunglasses.
“You could wait in the car,” I suggest. “This won’t take long.”
“I don’t mind. Not like I got anything better to do.” Bert pulls the cap low over his eyes and rests one gloved hand on his holstered weapon.
The act is born out of pure habit, not necessity. The most dangerous thing about Silver Springs in broad daylight is... well... I look around for inspiration and spot a flash of orange fur on the other side of the street. Cat shifter, and a young one by the looks of him.
The little devils really are the most dangerous things in town. They may look all cute and fluffy, but they love racing down the streets, tripping up unsuspecting pedestrians. Annoying and dangerous, yes, but definitely not illegal. I would know.
“Good to go?” I ask as Bert lets go of his gun and adjusts his jacket sleeves, making sure they’re pulled down low over his gloves.
With his full getup in place, he looks like a cat burglar, or possibly an assassin. At least, he would if the word ‘police’ wasn’t emblazoned in huge letters across his chest and the front of his ball cap. Vampire Officer Bert Stevens, reporting for duty.
I really don’t get why he insists on working the day shift. He’s got enough seniority to take his pick, and if he worked nights, he wouldn’t have to protect every last inch of bare skin from sunlight... or dress like Officer Assassin. Not that I’m complaining.
Bert makes one hell of a partner. He’s been on the job longer than I’ve been alive, and policing runs in his blood, just like it runs in mine. Plus, I’ve got just as many quirks as he does, what with me being a troll. Mine are just a little different.
I reach for the car door—gently, since my broken door count is already up to six this year—and Bert raises a hand to stop me. I expect him to warn me to be careful, but he takes off his sunglasses and reaches inside the glove box instead.
“Hold up. I just need a moment to make sure I’ve got all the disks.” Bert spreads the library audiobook open on his lap—you know, the old-fashioned kind that’s got several dozen flimsy CDs stuffed into equally flimsy plastic sleeves. I honestly haven’t a clue how Bert manages not to rip them as he counts out the disks. But hey, at least he’s stopped asking me to hand them to him. Troll fingers just aren’t made for that sort of thing.
“You know you can download audiobooks from this thing called the Internet, right?”
“I may be old, but I’m not that old.” Bert rolls his eyes at me as he continues flipping through the CDs.
“You don’t look a day over four hundred,” I joke, fully aware that Bert’s just over three hundred. That and he actually looks my age. “But seriously, man, you really should give the Internet a try. You can download dozens of audiobooks, and you never have to switch disks.”
“I would, but I haven’t got anything to download them on.” Bert shrugs.
“You could get a smartphone,” I suggest, though I don’t know why I bother. It’s a lost cause with Bert, just like it is with Gran. The vamp may look like he’s in his twenties, but he doesn’t act like it, which isn’t typical for vampires.
All the other vamps in Silver Spring have managed to adapt. The brothers who run Club Vee act just as young as their mate, Rose. Sapphire, with her hundred dollar coffees and hoodies, may be odd, but I’ve seen her on Tinder... and swiped the hell away before she could turn me into her own personal blood bank. And then there’s that pale, silver-haired vamp who plans events for the city—can’t remember his name, but I’ve seen him running around with his nose glued to a tablet. Which means Bert has no excuse... except for the fact that he’s Bert.
“I get along just fine without one of them smartphones,” he says, pulling out his ancient flip phone. “These are more durable. Dropped mine out of a moving squad car once. It looks all banged up, but it works just fine. Can’t say the same thing for your smartphones. If they’re so smart, why do you keep breaking them every other month?”
“I break nearly everything every other month,” I growl. Definitely a downside of being a troll. Large hands and more strength than I know what to do with. Good thing my kind’s eligible for Unintentional Use of Strength Insurance. If we weren’t, I’d go bankrupt.
“Fair point.” Bert slips on his sunglasses and gets out of the car. “Watch the door. Or at least wait until Monday.”
“What’s happening Monday?”
“Heard there’s a new mechanic opening in town. Hot Wheels Garage, I think?”
“So no more getting the car towed to Scarborough?” I grin as I gently nudge the door shut.
“No more trying to drive to Scarborough without a door,” Bert fires back.
“That was one time.” I give him my most menacing scowl, but it has absolutely no effect. Bert’s had plenty of troll partners before I came along, so he knows what he’s doing.
“One time was plenty.” He grins. Or, I think he does. Hard to tell with his face all covered up like that.
“Sorry about the detour,” I say as I take the steps to Spell Library two at a time.
“I’ve been meaning to go to the library, anyway.” He holds up the audiobook. “See if I can find the sequel.”
I consider telling the vamp that he could have checked the library catalogue or placed a hold, but why bother? I’ve said the same to Gran, but I’ve learned to pick my battles.
We enter the foyer just as Amber—who makes the best Mood Teas in town—is leaving.
“Oh, um... Hi, officer.” Her eyes grow wide when she sees me, and she takes a nervous step back.
My instinct is to let out a frustrated growl, but I’ve long since learned that would be counter-productive. You can’t stop people from being scared of you by acting scary.
“Just Liam is fine.” I give her my friendliest smile.
Amber takes another step back. Great. Just great.
Those downsides of being a troll I was talking about earlier? This here’s a big one. Even in a supernatural town like Silver Springs, we stand out. Sure, some of the other supes are just as tall—yetis mostly, and the occasional bear and moose shifter—but I still tower over ninety percent of the population. Add my troll build, and the signature troll scowl—plus a short temper I can’t always control—and Amber’s reaction is a daily occurrence.
“It’s the uniform, bud.” Bert pats me on the shoulder, sensing my building rage. When I start to calm down, he turns to Amber. “You own Jewels Cafe, right?”
“I do.” She nods. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around, though it’s hard to tell.” She g
estures vaguely at his face, which is completely covered.
“Right.” He pulls off his sunglasses and pockets them. “I’ve been by a few times with Liam. Name’s Bert.”
“Amber.” She shakes his gloved hand, though she keeps sending me nervous looks. Then her eyes widen, and next thing I know, she shifts into... me?
“Great parlor trick.” Bert claps his hands. Or, claps one gloved hand against the plastic audiobook case, but the fact that he’s amused is pretty clear.
“I-I’m so sorry.” Amber backs away from me, eyes wide. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, Officer Liam. I would never impersonate a police officer.”
“He doesn’t mind, do you, Liam?”
I start to shake my head no when my eyes drift past Amber and land on someone else.
“Mate?” The word escapes my lips before I can think better of it. Before I can hide the fact that my fated mate is as old as Gran. Scratch that, older.
“Mate?” Amber spins around and looks past me, at the old woman. “Wait, you mean Violet?”
“Violet.” As in Gran’s friend, Violet. The sweet old librarian who helped Gran set up an email account. The old lady who spent a few years in a nursing home after losing her husband and daughter. The one who’d one day decided to come out of retirement and come work in Silver Springs.
She almost looks like she’s in a trance with the way she’s gaping at me through cat-eye glasses. I don’t doubt that the shocked expression on her face is mirrored on my own.
I want to look away, but at the same time I don’t. It’s not that I’m actually attracted to her—she’s older than Gran!—but I still can’t look away.
How is that possible?
I’d heard so many stories of other trolls meeting their mates. Their one true love. Gramps had taken one look at Gran and proclaimed his love before he even knew her name. He’d waxed poetically about her beauty—her hair, her curves, her luscious lips—and won her over on their first date. Married her after their third, got her pregnant by their fourth, before she even knew he was a troll. Long story.
And the thought of Gramps getting Gran pregnant is kind of gross... but I can’t deny that their story is romantic. And that I’d always assumed that when I finally met my mate, I’d turn into a poetry-spouting love-sick fool who married the girl, too.
Except my mate’s not a girl—she’s an old woman. Her hair is short, gray, and thinning. Her shoulders are hunched. Her skin is wrinkled with age—with life, with experience, with years she’s spent on this earth without knowing me.
“The librarian’s your mate?” Bert asks. He doesn’t sound shocked—or horrified—merely curious. Like in his world, falling for old ladies isn’t that big a deal. Then again, the man is over three centuries old, and I’ve never seen him date. For all I know, older than Gran is his type.
Usually, I’d rib him over it, but my heart isn’t in it. Not when I found Violet way too late.
“Congratulations, bud.” Bert chuckles, and I see red.
How dare he laugh at me and this mess of a situation? This is my life we’re talking about—Violet’s and mine—not that there’ll ever be a Violet and me. Not in this lifetime.
The pain coursing through me transforms into a murderous rage, and I advance on the vampire with a growl. Pummeling a fellow officer in a public space isn’t recommended, but the Silver Springs force is pretty lenient about that sort of thing. At least when it comes to trolls. Hard not to be, with how many of us they’ve got on the force.
Worst case scenario, I’ll get written up and spend a few weeks in anger management. Had to do it after the first time I got called on a domestic assault case. Guess I’ll do it again after I work out my frustration on Bert’s vampire mug.
“Whoa there, buddy.” He raises his hands in surrender and starts backing away from me. Smart move, vampire, smart move—but far, far too late.
I growl and grab him by the collar, lifting him straight off the ground.
I’m over a foot taller than the vampire, but not stronger, so he’ll put up a good fight. And I can let out my anger without worrying about causing permanent damage.
“Come on now, Liam,” Bert protests, hanging limply in my grip.
“Fight me, old man,” I growl. The words—so normal between us—remind me of my mate, and my anger grows.
“Remember where you are,” Bert says, sounding calm. It’s that calm that pierces my anger.
Where am I?
In Spell Library. With people watching. With my mate watching.
I let go of Bert and spin around to look at her. Violet.
Her eyes are wide and her thin lips are parted in horror. Horror at the sight of me. Horror at being mated to a violent, terrifying troll.
Her disgust is like a vise, gripping my heart, tightening slowly. My mate is afraid of me. My mate can’t stand the sight of me. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do to win her over. Not when my mate’s already lived a long, full life. A life without me.
Chapter 5
Violet
My mate is a troll. My mate is a cop and a troll. My mate is a cop and a troll, and he isn’t Nole!
Not that there’s anything going on between Nole and me. For one thing, I look eighty. That, and Nole didn’t take one look at me and say ‘mate.’ He never once stopped and stared at me the way the troll is: like he wants me. Like he can see right through me. Like I’m not an old lady three times his age.
My chameleon magic! I do a quick mental scan, but it’s still firmly in place. I’ve had almost a year of practice trying to keep up my disguise around Nole, and it’s definitely paid off.
So why is the troll looking at me like that? Can he actually see the real me? Can mates do that?
I’m hit by a wave of fear, bordering on terror. What if he gives me away? What if they find out? What if it’s already too late?
I need to get out of here! But how? Where?
My fastest pace is Walker Shuffle, which won’t do me any good. I doubt I can make it halfway to the elevator, let alone to the back room. The best I can do is drape a book over my head and hope I disappear.
I do have one more choice, but if I take it, it’ll all be over. My life here in Silver Springs, my job at Spell Library, and my time with the people I care about most.
My heart hurts at the thought of leaving everything behind. Not being here for Violet as she nears the end of her life. Never seeing Nole again. Leaving my troll mate behind before I’ve had a chance to get to know him. Not that I plan to get to know him or risk him finding out the truth. Not when he could reject me and turn me over to them.
At least if I run, I’ll be alive!
I focus my magic. If worse comes to worst, I know exactly which bird shifter I’ll choose: the homing pigeon. Not as prestigious as they once were, what with the Internet and mobile phones, but both small and fast. Perfect for a quick escape, and I just happened to run into one earlier this week.
I wait for the troll to force my hand—I wait until the last possible moment, when I don’t have any other choice—but it never comes. Instead of confronting me, my mate spins around. Then, he breaks into a run, heading straight for the front door... and out of my life for good.
I should be relieved. Instead, instinct propels me to chase after him. Brilliant move, Violet.
I reach for my walker, but luckily, reason catches up with me. What is it that I plan to do? Run after the guy, granny style? Lean on my walker and shuffle after him in slow motion? By the time I reach the front door, he’ll be all the way out in Scarborough.
Plus, if he leaves, that means I can stay. Convince everyone in town that my being a young troll’s mate is just a mistake that neither of us plans to act on. As long as I act my age—old Violet’s age—and stop ogling his retreating ass. As long as I don’t show interest in his broad shoulders and muscular arms. As long as I let one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met—tied with Nole for first—leave me for good. Because I can’t risk them finding me, ev
en if it means losing my mate.
I know this is how it has to be, but my still heart breaks as I watch him go. I don’t even know the guy—he could be a complete ass who hates cat-dogs like Stacks and mistreats old ladies—but losing him still hurts. It’s almost like he’s taking a piece of me... a piece I need to stay whole.
The troll throws the front door open—huge biceps flexing, muscles rippling—and the glass shatters. It explodes outward, flying across the sidewalk. The troll growls—forget that—he roars, and the floor shakes. The windows rattle. I hold my breath, waiting for something else to break... but the only sound is the glass crunching beneath his feet as he storms away.
“I’m so sorry about my partner, ma’am.” The other cop—the vampire covered from head to toe—joins me at my desk. “He’s not usually like that.”
The vampire’s taken off his sunglasses, and his eyes are filled with curiosity. Probably trying to figure out how I could be his partner’s mate. Do I pretend not to know what happened? Act confused? Tell him it was all a misunderstanding?
“Do you want me to get someone to fix the door?” Gwinnie—Amber—asks, joining us at the desk. “My mate, Wes, runs a cleaning company.”
As if I don’t already know. I nod. “Thank you, dear.” Five points.
“If Zoe’s free, she could clean it up in minutes,” Amber adds. “She’s fixed all the doors Julian blew up.”
“Were there many?” I ask.
“A few.” Amber’s cheeks flush.
“I’ll pay for the damage,” the vampire cop says.
My sister takes out her phone and pulls up the Cleanly Den app. “There. Booked. She’ll head right over.”
“Amber,” the vampire turns to her, “do you mind watching the door, making sure no one steps on the glass?”
She nods. “You should probably go check on Liam. That was... unexpected.”
“Liam? As in Betty’s Liam?” My eyes widen as realization hits. Troll. Cop. Betty’s grandson, who’s a troll cop.