Page 73 of Scars Like Wings
“How? Why not?”
“We read through all these books and found nothing in anything we read. These were all the books the Archive had on runes and the witches who cast them. If there were more books,the Archive would have sent them. The Archiveneverfails in sending the right books. It literally cannot. It’s not possible.”
“So, our answers aren’t in a book?” Simone asked. “The Archive has every book about supernaturals ever written or transcribed. If none of it is here, then where else could they be?”
Outside, the Everlore Clocktower rang out eight times to mark the time across campus. The white sun blazing above us and the Archive’s tree stretched her white rays out across the Library, ready to start her day.
That’s right, I am indeed employed and have a job to do.
At the Archive, I always found it so easy to lose track of time and sink into another world, a bubble away from the chaos outside of her doors. The past three hours were no different. I had dived deep into researching. Now, I was coming up for air.
But I was in a new spot in the water.
And I was very, very far from shore.
I felt no more relieved than I had when I started.
To the right of the main desk, more coffee finished brewing as well as an assortment of teas that would magically stay hot or cold for customers. The machines cleaned themselves, never staying dirty for longer than a few seconds before a rag surrounded by Journee’s cerulean magic got to them. Two more baristas had long since arrived to start help prepping for the shop’s busy hours. Journee was working hard to get all of their homemade baked goods, desserts, and other snacks out of their ovens and into the displays on either side of the counter. As each oven opened, the Archive filled with the scents of muffins, cakes, breads, and coffee beans. It smelled like my happy place, especially mixed with the smell of old books and ink. Even as anxiety swirled in my stomach over the book, the Archive still managed to give me a shred of peace.
“Lookie what I got, girlies!” Simone approached the table with three cups in her hands, each labeled with our names andorders written in black chicken-scratch that was barely legible. She sat down Maisie’s hot lavender latte and my hot dirty chai tea in front of us before taking a sip of her iced nutella macchiato.
I squealed with glee, loving the sight of the pick-me-up. “Thank you so much, doll!”
“I figured we all needed a lift after the bummer of a morning we just had! Plus, Maisie, that barista was a cutie pie!” Simone winked.
Maisie glanced over toward the Journee Made Coffee and Bistro where there was a handsome guy wiping down the counter. She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he definitely gives Big Dick Energy. I would love to see what he can brew in his offtime.”
I laughed. “What about Cody?”
“It’s always good to have a roster of all-stars, Byrdie, rather than rely on just one MVP.”
“Well, speaking of Bad Boy Cody?—”
“Oh, that name isnotallowed to stick.” Maisie scrunched her nose.
Simone ignored her. “I, of course, have been talking to Cole. He said he and the cousins had so much fun with us this weekend, and they can’t wait for another date! They are making some plans for all of us to spend time together after they finish selling a house down in Florida.”
“Ew, Florida,” Maisie grimaced. “Didn’t they just sell a house there? That’s how you met Cole, right?”
“I guess there’s a lot of prime real estate there. Who knows?” Simone shrugged.
“Well, I’m excited to get to hang out again. Thursday and Friday were so freaking fun!” I said. “Anyway, what are you two going to do now for the rest of today since we got nowhere with this?” I gestured around the table toward all the books opened and stacked before us andthebookstill showing the rune. Evenlooking toward it made me so frustrated I could cry. I closed it to ignore it better.
“Honestly, this feels like the trend for everything lately. My Doctorate has been the absolute struggle. I have to do some stuff for it today,” Maisie answered.
“Same!” Simone said. “I have some homework for my masters, but I also have some stuff to do for work! We all can’t complete our masters while completing our bachelorsandsecuring our dream career.”
“You’re right. We all can’t.” I playfully shrugged and smiled as I stood up to approach the circulation desk.
While the girls were laughing at my braggadocious joke, the sound like stiletto heels resounded through the library. Of course, I knew the noise was far from a heeled Louis Vuitton—although they probably cost the same amount, if not more for the upkeep.
Outside of the supernatural bubble, humans presumed that the world was full of just vampires, werewolves, witches, and ghosts. Maybe some well-read humans added fairies to that list. Still, they didn’t think those creatures were real. No, they belonged in stories, folklore, myth, legend, and teen romance novels in their world. Theycouldn’texist in the real world. Yet, I was always astonished that humans could be so right and so wrong all at once. Their myths, legends, and folklore were all true, and they didn’t even see the creatures to write and speak about them—they didn’t even know they existed—while passing that down through the generations.
So it was with my boss, the Director of Library and Patron Services. Well, she was definitely much more than a boss, but that’s another story. Rhois was a Baobhan Sith, a Scottish creature of legend and myth. In “ye olden” days, her kind wouldallegedlylure young hunters in by inviting them to dance around a fire until they grew too exhausted to overpowerher people. According to legend, they didn’t care much about seeking power, wealth, or youth—they received all of that almost naturally with their otherworldly beauty, magical abilities, and immortality. They only cared about feeding. Back then, her kind were thought to be just fae. But they were so much more than that; they were a combination of a vampire, fairy, and a shifter. They fed and drained their victims of blood, but they lacked fangs in favor of using their long, sharp fingernails to slit the necks of their victims. Thus, Rhois’s always long, beautiful stiletto claws. They were fearful of horses and iron just like fairies were, but they didn’t have any wings like the fae. They were not controlled by the moon like shifters, but they could turn into wolves to flee or fight. To top it all off—or, to get to the bottom of things in a way—stories weaved tales of women who hid the hooves they had instead of feet under long dresses.
But I had never heard anything in the lore I’ve studied about Baobhan Siths having designer, expensive horseshoes to adorn their hooves like Rhois always did.
Rhois was always two things at once. Both timeless and modern, legendary and completely brand new, young like the latest trend and ageless like a being trapped in amber, and down-to-earth and otherworldly. Rhois was insanely tall, at least six-foot-seven, if not more. She was white, pale, with a constant, warm glowing tone to her skin. Her auburn hair fell past her shoulders in a natural, effortless curl many would pay hundreds to have for just a few hours that she easily woke up with. Her face was speckled with freckles, and she had full, permanently red lips. She also had stark, teal-green eyes. Today, she wore a navy blue set of floor-length pants and a matching bandeau top. A light sky blue cape-style coat was draped over her shoulders with a stunning multi-layered silver necklace and matching earrings and several rings across her fingers. Honestly, every time Rhoisset foot into the Archive Library, I always wondered if this was what it was like being in the presence of a celebrity or royalty.