Violet

by Mia Harlan

  “Morning, little furry,” Cash greets me from the couch when I enter the living room.

  “Morning, wampitch,” I tease, earning a mock glare that does nothing to alleviate the heavy feeling in my heart.

  “You look gorgeous with your hair down,” Cash adds, getting to his feet, and my insides turn to jelly.

  “So do you,” I blurt out. “I mean you look great this morning, too.” And he really, really does. Even with his suit pants and dress shirt wrinkled from sleep, and his cheeks covered with stubble, he looks absolutely perfect. I’m really going to miss him when I go.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, taking my hands in his, and I’m suddenly struggling to hold back tears.

  “F-Fine.” I swallow hard. “I just need to get to work. Try to talk to Nole.” Keep him from telling anyone who I am, so I can stay in Silver Springs for however long Violet has left.

  “He’s had the night to cool down. I’m sure you’ll get through to him.”

  “But what if I don’t?” I ask as a single tear slides down my cheek. Because I can’t stomach working next to Nole every day for however long I’m in town while he still hates me.

  “Then I’ll talk to him, too.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course.” Cash pulls me into a tight hug, not seeming to care that my hair is dampening his dress shirt.

  He holds me until I know that if I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late for work. I quickly wake Violet and make us all breakfast—fruit and oatmeal, which I realize I’ve had every single morning since moving here. Once Violet is settled on the couch with my sister’s book and the TV remote, I grab my purse and walker and race to the door. And shift.

  “It’s going to take a while to get used to that,” Cash murmurs as we head past the still broken elevator to the stairs.

  I don’t reply, since I can’t risk having any of the neighbors overhear.

  The blood mage carries me, my walker, and my purse downstairs and right up to his company car. Because, apparently, creators of popular social networks travel in style. He has his driver drop me off around the corner from work, helps me out of the car, and reminds me to call him any time if I need to talk.

  Once he’s gone, I slowly make my way toward the library. Not because I have time to spare, but because slow’s the only pace I got.

  Hopefully, Nole showed up to work early today. He can do the entire opening procedure in five minutes, while it takes me thirty and I’m huffing and puffing. But it’s not opening the library I’m really thinking about—it’s being able to talk to him. To explain.

  I’m almost at the wheelchair ramp I always use with my walker when I realize something’s wrong. Really wrong.

  None of the seniors are waiting outside, not even Betty. She might be avoiding me if she found out about Liam, but where did everyone else go? And why are all the lights on inside?

  Did Nole forget to lock up last night? Did someone break in? Did they ambush Nole when they’d come for me?

  I almost shift on the spot, ditch the walker, and race inside. Almost! A year of practice and self-preservation keeps me in check... keeps me shuffling up that ramp one slow step at a time.

  My mind races the entire time. Images of Nole dead, of the library trashed, of an entire army of them holding all the seniors hostage, assail me. I don’t stop for my usual halfway up the ramp breather, and almost pass out. If it wasn’t for my walker, I think I would. But somehow, I manage to keep going.

  When I reach the front doors—the unlocked front doors—I force myself to go inside. And the sight that greets me isn’t anything I could have predicted, not in a billion years.

  There’s a group of seniors gathered in front of the librarian’s desk—my desk—talking among themselves in a mix of hushed whispers, indoor voices, and loud shouts. I think it mostly depends on how good their hearing is.

  Nole’s there too—I can just make him out, towering over the crowd—and I let out a sigh of relief. He’s okay. Nole’s really okay!

  “Violet!” Betty separates from the edge of the crowd and speed-walks toward me.

  “Betty.” Who may or may not hate me right now.

  I brace myself for whatever’s coming. I half expect her to slap me across the face and tell me to stay away from her grandson. Instead, her face fills with relief.

  “Thank goodness you’re here. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  Before I get the chance to reply, someone clears their throat. The crowd parts and the town mayor steps forward, flanked by two officers. For a split second, I think one of them might be Liam, and my heart leaps, but neither looks familiar.

  “Hello, Violet.” The mayor’s beady little eyes land on me, their red pupils sending shivers of dread down my spine.

  He’s wearing a white suit today, which brings out the blueness of his ogre skin and accentuates all the splotches of brown. In other words, it makes him look even weirder than he already does.

  He moves to stand next to Nole, and he suddenly doesn’t look quite so big. The bear shifter’s actually got a few inches on the ogre, but the mayor still manages to look menacing. He gives the bear shifter’s shoulder a squeeze, and though Nole doesn’t so much as flinch, my stomach rolls.

  Then I notice that Nole’s got Stacks clutched to his chest in this adorably protective way, and the sense of dread is replaced by warmth.

  I suddenly want to throw my arms around the bear shifter. Not that I would with everyone watching. It would take me a solid five minutes just to cross the distance between us. That and Nole clearly still hates me. He refuses to so much as look at me, so I turn to the ogre instead.

  “Mayor Shchnarl. What brings you by the library today?” I ask, trying to remain calm. Collected. Like any elderly librarian who got greeted with a large crowd of people and no explanation, and all before 9am.

  “I believe we should ask you the same thing...” Mayor Shchnarl... well... snarls. Hard to tell if he’s being aggressive, or if it’s because he’s got a nose that looks like a flattened pancake. Maybe he’s only curling his upper lip so he can breathe.

  “I’m the librarian, dear,” I remind him—five points—while a feeling of dread loops itself around my belly. “I work here.”

  The mayor shakes his head. “No, you don’t. Not anymore.”

  A collective gasp fills the library’s lobby. Apparently, this is news to the seniors, too. They start whispering among themselves—or, in a few cases, shouting to be heard without hearing aids—while Betty shoots me a wide-eyed, questioning look.

  Stay calm, Violet. Act like an adult. Like a senior!

  I search the crowd, trying to find answers. The seniors look confused. Nole refuses to make eye contact with me. And there’s this look on the mayor’s face that resembles glee. A very creepy, very malicious version of glee.

  “Is something the matter with the library’s funding?” I ask carefully, trying to sound cool and collected, while inside, I’m a complete and utter mess.

  I know I was planning to leave soon. Once I lost Violet, I’d no longer be able to shift into her, so I’d have to leave, anyway. But I didn’t think that day would come quite so soon.

  I love this little library. Love working here, side by side with Nole, every single day. I love every part of my job—even the ancient librarian’s computer and teenage troublemakers. I just can’t imagine leaving, or working anywhere else.

  “There is absolutely nothing wrong with our funding,” a woman responds, her voice reverberating through the library.

  Her heels click loudly against the floor, and everyone seems to collectively hold their breath. Then she comes into view, moving next to the mayor, where the top of her dark-haired head barely reaches his barreled chest.

  She’s dressed professionally in a gray pant-suit, and she’s holding a clipboard which she shoves at Nole’s chest. I grimace when it hits Stacks, and the cat-dog lets out a mix between a yowl and a growl, but the woman doesn�
�t so much as bat an eye.

  Nole checks Stacks over and gives the top of the little guy’s head a kiss. Once again, my heart warms. Then it turns to ice as the woman who’d hurt an innocent pet comes to a stop directly in front of me.

  “And so, we finally meet,” she says with one raised brow.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” I reply calmly. If I was giving myself a score for adulting, that would be a solid ten points right there.

  “Deputy Mayor Drayca Lee.” She narrows her eyes on me and proceeds to march forward in her five-inch heels. “And you are?”

  “Violet.” I tighten my grip on my walker and try not to sound nervous.

  “I don’t think so.” She shakes her head and makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “It has come to our attention that you are not who you say you are.” She pauses long enough for a few whispered questions to pass through the crowd.

  “Whatever do you mean, dear?” Five points. And a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that refuses to leave.

  “I have it on good authority, dear, that you’ve been impersonating our town librarian.” The deputy mayor lets out an overly dramatic sigh.

  “I’m not!” I blurt out, and the deputy mayor chuckles. Or more like, cackles. Then she shifts into a dragon.

  Her body expands, and she bends her head until her nostrils are a few inches in front of my face. She lets out a puff of smoke that makes me jump, and I idly wonder if it’s safe to have a fire-breathing dragon in the library with so many books around.

  Deputy Dragon waves her speared tail, but not in a happy way, the way Stacks does it. Somehow, I know that in her case, it’s a threat.

  “According to supernatural law,” the mayor booms, crossing the library to stand by her side, “it is illegal for a chameleon to impersonate a real person—human or supernatural—for personal gain. Is that something you’re aware of, Violet?”

  Before I can reply, he pulls a small, clear vial out of his pocket. Purple liquid bubbles inside, and he takes his time unscrewing the top.

  I take an instinctive step back, and Deputy Dragon curls her tail behind me to keep me in place. And then the mayor dumps the contents of the vial over my head.

  I expect it to burn. I expect it to kill me on the spot. I expect all sorts of horrible things, but not the thing it actually does. For a split second—and maybe not even that—it makes my magic flicker. Just long enough to reveal my true self.

  There’s another collective gasp, and then everyone starts talking all at once. Well, almost everyone. Betty stares at me with a look of utter betrayal, and Nole still refuses to look at me. Because he’s responsible. Because he turned me in. Because he betrayed me.

  The deputy mayor clears her throat, and everyone goes quiet. “Violet, for violating your contract—” she pauses. “Violet violating, that’s quite ironic, isn’t it?”

  No one laughs.

  “Right, where was I? For violating your contract with the city, being employed under false pretenses, and impersonating another citizen, you are hereby dismissed from your position, effective immediately. And rest assured that a search for the real Violet has already begun.”

  “A search?” I frown. What are they going to do, force her to work at Spell Library? Arrest her for helping me get this job? “Is she in trouble?”

  “We merely want to make sure that Violet’s safe,” the mayor says.

  “And we have it on good authority that you’ve been in contact with her over the last week,” one of the police officers—who looks more like a male model, if I’m being honest—steps forward. “Can you provide us with any information on her whereabouts?”

  I shake my head.

  “Just tell us where she is,” Mayor Shchnarl demands.

  Deputy Dragon digs her speared tail into my back. Not with enough force to harm, but enough to hurt.

  I just shake my head again, and the mayor’s eyes narrow.

  “Search the library!” he shouts, and the two officers take off.

  It’s only a matter of time before he sends them to my apartment, and I need to get there first. To grab my bag. To say goodbye to Violet. Because one thing is clear. Now that my secret is out, I’m no longer safe in Silver Springs.

  Chapter 19

  Violet

  My heart breaks as I look around the library. At Nole, who betrayed me and still won’t meet my eye. At Betty, who looks hurt and confused. At all the regular patrons, who are shaking their heads in disapproval.

  I have no doubt that by tomorrow, I’ll be on the cover of the Silver Springs Herald... and all over Screech, unless Cash somehow prevents it. Not that he’ll bother, after he realizes that I’m gone.

  I take one final moment to memorize all the things I love about this place. The light streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the faded carpet. My solid oak librarian’s desk, where I spent most of my shifts. And the reverse harem romance section, which I started soon after getting hired.

  I silently say goodbye to it all—to my life over the past year—and take off.

  It was always my plan to shift into a homing pigeon. I’ve been detouring by the park at least once a week, making sure to pass at least one of the shifters before heading home. I’ve never gone more than six days without my chameleon magic picking up their shifted form, just in case.

  The moment I shift, Deputy Drayca lets out a pissed off roar. I should be worried—she is a fierce dragon, after all—but she’s no match for me. Sure, she’s faster and bigger and she breathes fire, but she can’t fit through the door—let alone between pedestrians or through narrow alleys.

  I have no trouble losing her, but after that, avoiding obstacles becomes a challenge. Not because I lack control—after all the practice I’ve had, I should hope not—but because the tears streaming down my face make it impossible to see.

  Why do birds even have tear ducts? It’s not like they ever use them. Apparently, it’s just a lovely little gift evolution saved for us bird shifters. You know, to make sure we crash into something if we’re having an especially bad day.

  Today—this moment—really puts those tear ducts to the test. Everything hurts. The thought of abandoning Violet after she left her entire life behind to save me. The idea that I’ll never see Cash again—my wampitch, my mate—who I’ve already started falling for. The image of Liam—my big, hot, muscular troll, whom I never even got to know—which makes me wonder what could have been, and mourn the loss of what never was. And finally, there’s that nagging awareness that I’m losing it all because of Nole—my friend, my mate—who I fell for, deeply, irrevocably, sometime over the past year.

  My building looks blurry as I nosedive toward the fourth floor, but I have no trouble flying through the hallway window or landing in front of my door. The moment my claws touch the ground, I shift and pull out my spare key.

  “Violet?” I shout, not bothering to keep my voice down as I race inside the apartment. What does it matter, anyway, when I’m leaving?

  I don’t get a reply, and there’s no sign of her in the living room. Did she go back to bed? Is she fast asleep? Is she...

  The word dead echoes through my head as I race across the living room, past the open bathroom door, and into the bedroom. She’s not in bed, or on the floor, or in the closet—though, how would she even get into the closet?

  I check the tub, then the kitchen, and even the hallway closet, each time expecting to find her unconscious form. Except each time, there’s no sign of Violet, and she’d never—ever!—leave the apartment without telling me first.

  They took her! They kidnapped Violet, and Chameleon only knows what they’re doing to her right now, or if they ever plan to let her go.

  This is all my fault! My fault for dragging sweet, old Violet into this. My fault for losing control of my wonky powers. My fault for shifting out in the hallway. And definitely my fault for trusting Nole to keep my secret, when I could see the hatred on his face!

  Why didn’t
I just grab my bag the moment Nole left last night? Why did I just go to work instead of asking Cash to take Violet somewhere safe?

  Tears stream down my face as I spin around the empty living room. What do I do? Where do I go?

  I know what Violet would want. She’d tell me to grab my stuff and leave before it’s too late. She’d say she’s lived a long and happy life, and it’s my turn to live mine. But I can’t... I won’t... not if it means sacrificing Violet.

  I race back toward the bedroom and rummage through her nightstand. Past her medicine, hand cream, flashlight, and poetry book, until I find it... Violet’s emergency flip phone!

  It’s not a smartphone, so I can’t go on Screech and message Cash, but there is one other person who could help. Maybe... it’s not like I really have a choice.

  I only have one number memorized. One number I’ve called from the library’s landline enough times to know it by heart.

  “Hello?” Betty picks up on the third ring.

  Betty, who probably hates me right now... and who’d definitely hang up if she knew it was me.

  “Hello, Betty. It’s Bert,” I say instead. After shifting into the vampire, of course.

  “Bert?! Did something happen to Liam?” Betty’s voice takes on an edge of panic.

  “No. Liam’s fine. Everything’s fine.” And the real Bert would have probably led with that, knowing she’d worry. “I’m actually calling because I need Liam’s number.”

  “His phone number?” Betty asks, sounding either confused, or suspicious, or both.

  Shit, shit, shit! She knows I’m a chameleon. She’s going to figure out it’s not really Bert. And then she’ll hang up on me, and I won’t be able to find Violet, and...

  “Don’t you already have Liam’s phone number?” Betty presses.

  “I... er...” I try to think of something. Anything! “had it programmed into my phone, but it somehow got deleted?”

  “That happened to me, too!” Betty exclaims. “I had Violet help... well, never mind that.”

  And now she’s definitely going to guess it’s me, and hang up, and...