Gertrude Periwinkle lifted an eyebrow, her gaze raking over me. Her jaw clenched, and it looked like she was trying hard to bite her tongue and keep from blurting out a curse at me.
Swirls of warm vapor escaped the room. Cold air prickled against my skin, reminding me of how naked and vulnerable I was. She was fully dressed from her high collar to the long hem of her black skirt, yet even with all those clothes, she managed to look sexier than most women in bathing suits.
I stepped back. I didn’t need any psychic powers to tell me anger radiated from her every pore.
“Good evening, Clarissa. You are in good health I trust.” She spoke politely and formally.
I hardly knew what to say in such a predicament. I followed her cue. “Yes, how kind of you to inquire. Good evening. And you?”
A tight smile stretched across her face. “I beg your pardon for this intrusion, but might I ask what is the nature of your relationship with Felix Thatch?”
Thatch pulled her back by the elbow and pushed the door closed, sealing her from my line of sight.
“Was that truly necessary?” Thatch asked.
“You could have told me you were seeing someone else and saved me the humiliation of throwing myself at you like a fool!” She shouted at him loud enough I didn’t need to listen at the door to hear her.
“It isn’t anyone else’s business.”
“Really? You fail to see how it could be my business?”
This was full-on Jerry Springer drama. It was embarrassing to listen to. I didn’t know whom I was more horrified for, her or myself. I had suspected she still cared for him, even though he’d broken off their engagement. I wondered if she had still been hoping they might remedy their magic problems someday.
He cleared his throat. “We aren’t together anymore, Gertrude.”
“True, but that hasn’t kept you from an occasional pity fuck.”
“I don’t pity you.”
“Then why do you let me come to you when I need to relieve my siren sexuality? You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to have a relationship with me. So what is it?”
The more she talked, the more he lost my sympathy. But some of that may have been the song of her voice bending me to her will.
He said something too quietly for me to hear through the door. I considered projecting myself, but immediately felt guilty at the thought of invading their privacy even more.
Whatever he had said didn’t settle well with Gertrude because something shattered on the other side of the door.
“You have got to be the most clueless man I have ever met, Felix Thatch.”
His voice was flat, giving no hint away of what he truly felt. “Do you want me to make you a draft of an anti-aphrodisiac potion?”
The door slammed.
I cracked the door and peeked out. Thatch sat on the bed, one hand holding up his head, the ends of his hair dripping. He was a comic exaggeration of melancholy. A pitcher lay shattered on the floor.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to interrupt his pathos, but knowing something had to be done before Gertrude blabbed to the entire school. “Can I tell Josie now?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think Gertrude is going to gossip about it?”
He frowned. “I’ll have a talk with her.”
“Yeah, because you have such a way with women.”
“I freely admit I don’t always express myself clearly when it comes to my expression of . . . feelings, but I’m certain I can make Gertrude see my side.”
I crossed my arms. “How about I talk to her?”
“I think not. She’s likely to kill you.”
She had seemed angry, but as far as I could tell, her anger had been directed at him, not at me.
“I’m definitely talking to Miss Periwinkle—before you make her angrier and she tells Josie, I lose my best friend, and she hates me forever—which I would deserve because I listened to you.”
“You will do no such thing,” Thatch said. “I forbid it.”
Oh did he?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hell Hath No Fury like a Woman Scorned
I didn’t say another word to Thatch as we dressed. I was sick and tired of his Eeyore attitude and his bossy superiority. Maybe he forbade me from speaking with Gertrude Periwinkle because he cared and was afraid she might hurt me—or maybe he was just a control freak.
Gertrude Periwinkle had left in a huff. I considered going to the library, but even if it wasn’t locked, I suspected it was better to give her some space. In the morning, I skipped my early lesson before breakfast with Thatch. I left a note on the dungeon door extra early, letting him know I wouldn’t be attending my tutoring session that morning. The library opened at seven, and I arrived only a couple of minutes after the librarian had unlocked the doors.
Gertrude stood behind the counter stamping library books. Her witch hat mostly hid her messy bun, but stray locks had escaped. Her unkempt blonde hair managed to make her look more sexy than usual. Dark moons ringed her eyes, but she was lovely even with a lack of sleep.
The only hint that the sexy librarian in her modest attire might lean toward the more dangerous side of wicked witches was the cameo at the front of her lacy collar. Instead of a pretty picture, it was a miniature skull that might have belonged to a mouse. Arranged along the base of her hat were an assortment of dead flowers and animal skulls.
I wondered if it had been a mistake coming here to talk to her alone. I hadn’t told anyone I intended to see her. If I disappeared mysteriously, no one would know she was the last person I had spoken with.
What if the Princess of Lies and Truth wasn’t a Fae at all but Gertrude Periwinkle? She had worked at the school when my biological mother had. She’d had a good reason to loathe Alouette Loraline for ruining her youth and beauty. She could have used the persuasive powers of her voice to help a corrupt murderer rise to the position of principal. If anyone had a reason to want me dead, it might be the librarian.
Especially now.
A student stood at the card catalogue. I approached the counter. There was a witness in the library. Probably that meant no one was going to be murdered today.
“To what do I deserve the pleasure of this visit?” Her smile was tight and forced.
I kept the volume of my voice quiet enough to be appropriate in any library. “I was worried about you. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Her gaze shifted to the students lingering in the back of the library. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s thoughtful of you to ask. Now if you’ll excuse me. . . .”
“Could we talk? In your office? I won’t keep you long.”
She turned away, marching into her office. I hastened around the counter after her and closed the door behind me. Every time I had followed her into her office in the past it had always been a mistake. I prayed I wasn’t making another now.
“I’m so sorry about last night, Gertrude,” I said. “I can only imagine how . . . surprised you must have felt.”
She crossed her arms. “’Surprised’ is one way to put it.” Her tone was sharp.
I sent my awareness out five percent, just grazing the edge of her personal bubble, enough to test the waters of her emotion. I didn’t want her to realize what I was doing and vex her even more. Her chest felt tight with emotion, not anger but overflowing with sorrow.
“He should have told you,” I said. “I’m sorry he didn’t.”
“He’s the one who should be sorry, not you.” She spat out the words. The ache of melancholy in her chest fractured and sizzled, flooding her veins with fury.
Her anger tasted different from the woman’s I had sensed before who had been watching Thatch and me. Gertrude Periwinkle’s anger mingled with heartache and shame. There was no venom in her, no animal instinct tempting her to kill someone. As much as she loathed Thatch at the moment, she didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m sure Felix is sorry,” I said. “
He just has a hard time showing it.”
She snorted. “He never was able to grasp the concept of contrition.”
“Or humility,” I added with a smile. “Or modesty.”
She laughed. “Or shame.”
The burden in her chest lessened some as we laughed at his expense.
She studied me, a mixture of emotions playing across her heart. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into with him.”
“Probably not.”
“You’re in over your head.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
She wet her plump lips. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt in me. I did love him, even if he could be a blunderhead.
She smiled. “I’m glad for him, that he finally has the woman he was pining for.”
I laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t know about pining.”
The flavor of regret, mingled with envy and acceptance tasted bitter on her tongue as I inhaled what she was experiencing. “I’m happy for him. I want to be happy for you, but I don’t think you deserve all the future heartache he’s going to cause you.”
“Heartache? No.” I waved her off. “Maybe just a pain in the neck sometimes.”
Deep down I suspected she was right. Already I felt heartache about his mandate not to tell Josie, about his vehemence that I wasn’t going to go on any recruiting missions with him, and that most of our time spent together was practicing magic, not being intimate. I could understand him not wanting to have sex all the time, but not even occasionally snuggling in bed was torture. What was the joy in a relationship if there was no intimate time together at all?
It was all business and lessons with him. He’d never taken me on a date even—except if I counted that one time he’d been trying to get me to break up with Elric.
Gertrude Periwinkle sighed, bringing me back to the present.
“Are things . . . okay between you and me?” I asked. “You don’t hate me for being with him?”
“No, I wasn’t ever mad at you. Just him. And perhaps more than that, myself. I’ve known for a while it was time to move on. This is probably the push I needed.”
I nudged her with an elbow. “What about Pro Ro? I know he hangs out in the library way more than he used to.”
She snorted. “I tried Pro Ro. He gets tired too easily.”
“Even with all that yoga he teaches now?”
She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Pinky should be teaching yoga. Now that is a flexible sasquatch.”
We both laughed at that. I hoped she wasn’t sleeping with Pinky too, but if she was, I didn’t want to know. I had thought Pinky was sweet on Josie. Then again, Josie had expressed zero interest in him. He had a right to hook up with the hot librarian. Sasquatches needed loving too.
“I’m sure you’ll find your Prince Charming someday.” I patted her shoulder, feeling awkward. It would have been more natural to hug her, but I didn’t want my passive magic to affect her and draw out her siren powers beyond her control.
She took my hand. “You are such a dear, always trying to fix the world’s problems, aren’t you?” Her eyes filled with tears.
“I try, but I have no doubt Felix is going to come here later and be his bossy self and undo everything I’ve done.” And if he did, she might yell at him, and people would figure out he was dating me. The last thing I needed was for Josie to find out about us from gossip rather than from me directly. I hesitated, uncertain whether I was about to undo everything I had just done. “I need to tell you something. One of Thatch’s infuriating tendencies. I sort of . . . need your help.”
Her head tilted to the side. “He won’t come inside you? That’s it, isn’t it? He hasn’t told you about his little problem, has he?”
“Um, no, that’s not the problem. Well, I mean, that is a problem, but he told me why.” I didn’t want to stray from my task of getting her not to gossip about the relationship. Even so, I had to know if she’d solved this problem. “You’re a siren, weren’t you just able to douse the flames with water magic or something?”
She laughed, the sound merry and genuine. “Don’t I wish! No, that wouldn’t have worked.” She wiped her eyes. “I did some research, though. I found a spell to magically seal a surface against flames. I even tested it with flames of seraphim, which are far less predictable than natural flames. I always thought I might be able to put it to practical use, but. . . .” She bit her lip, eyeing me. “It’s a complex ward. It requires a trinity of witches. I can give you a copy, but . . . you haven’t completely regained your affinity, have you?”
I didn’t answer.
She rushed on, not noticing. “Eventually you’ll get your affinity back, but even when you do, you’re still learning magic, and you’d need two other people to help you. That’s one of the reasons I never used it. Felix was opposed to the idea of letting anyone else in on his problem.” The composure of her face crumpled into a frown. “He is the most vexing man ever!”
She was offering me the possibility of a magical condom? There was no way I could refuse. “I’d love to take a look at it. I’ll ask for help if I need it. Josie gives me tutoring lessons sometimes.”
“I’ll look for it and place a copy in your mailbox.” She tapped her nails against the wood of her desk. “While we’re on the topic of giving . . . I have something for you.” She opened the top drawer to her desk and removed an ornate skeleton key. The brass designs of Celtic knotwork swirled around a heart handle. She closed her fingers around the length of the key, holding it to her chest as though it was a precious treasure. “It’s the key to his room—That’s how I got in yesterday. He should have asked for it back when he started dating you. That man has no common sense.”
Probably the absent-minded professor had forgotten about it because he’d been distracted by other concerns.
She placed the key in my palm. Her kindness was so unexpected and overwhelming. Had I not been able to feel the generosity and love in her chest, overflowing like water, I wouldn’t have believed she could have felt that way toward me.
“That’s very gracious of you. Unexpectedly kind,” I said. “But I didn’t come here for this key or a fireproof condom—which are both great. I need to ask you a favor. I’m sorry to ask. You’ve already done so much. And I’m afraid this is asking for a lot, especially if Felix comes in here and tries your patience.”
“What do you need, dear?” Her brows lifted with curiosity.
“Would you please not tell anyone about Felix and me?” I swallowed, knowing this was a risk. If Gertrude changed her mind later, she could hurt me with this. “He doesn’t want anyone to know. He made me promise not to tell Josie, but if she finds out, she’ll hate me forever.”
Gertrude studied me thoughtfully. “Isn’t Josephine Kimura your closest friend? What a horrible position to put you in!” She patted my cheek. “You know what I’d tell him if he told that to me?”
I didn’t get to find out what she would tell him. A knock rapped on the door. I started, afraid it would be Thatch and he would catch me there with his ex-girlfriend and be livid.
Before Gertrude could open the door, it flew open, slamming against the wall. Vega stood in the doorway, her face flushed red. “What is the meaning of this? You’ve allowed Josephine Kimura to check out all the yearbooks from the twenties? I have dibs on them. You know I have dibs on them. Now she’s trying to check out even more of my books. I won’t stand for it.”
“You need to speak quietly. This is a library.” Gertrude strode forward, so much vehemence radiating from her it felt like a tidal wave crashed out of her.
Vega stumbled back. As scary as Vega could be, she had some serious competition when it came to Gertrude Periwinkle about her books.
Gertrude pointed an accusing finger at Vega. “Furthermore, those books are for everyone’s use. I told you they were overdue and you could check them out again if no one wanted them. It looks like
someone else did.”
Vega continued backing away. “She doesn’t need them like I do. She’s only checked them out to vex me.”
“No, that isn’t why.” Josie’s voice came from outside the office. “We’re doing a unit on early America in my Morty studies class. I need them for educational purposes, not recreational reasons.”
I followed Gertrude out of her office.
“Miss Bloodmire, you can have the books back when Miss Kimura is done with them,” Gertrude said, the command of her quiet tone forcing them back behind the counter. “In the meantime, you aren’t allowed to check out any more books until you pay your fine.”
Josie smiled in triumph. Vega glowered. I knew how Vega was about the twenties. Those books were her only connection to the man she had once loved—whether she was correct about that past life or not.
“This isn’t over,” Vega said.
Vega projected anger, but when I projected my awareness into her space, I sensed more to her than that. Deep inside, a well of longing as bottomless as the ocean filled her. I must have been improving in my skills if I could consciously direct myself to feel this.
Probably Vega wanted her yearbooks so she could gaze at the pictures of her lost love. Now that Dox Woodruff’s body had been accidentally incinerated, old photos of him were her only way of seeing him.
My business with Gertrude was done. I walked around the counter, discreetly nudging myself between Josie and Vega in the hope of buffering their animosity toward each other. “What if we made a copy of the book?”
Vega lifted up her nose. “Magical copies are inferior.”
“You could take the book into Lachlan Falls and use the scanner in Happy Hal’s to make a really good copy,” I said. “I might even be able to enlarge the images and get all the scratches out in a photo-editing program.”
Vega’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why would I want to go into that hellhole and lose my magical abilities by forcing myself to be around all those electronics?”
I wasn’t sure if Vega understood she could tolerate electronics now that she was a Red affinity. Then again, she was a better actress than I was. She might know, but she had to keep up the façade that she was still only a mere Merlin-class Celestor.
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