“I am aware of the threat, librarian, which is why we will go retrieve the child now,” I say.
“Oh.” The librarian blinks her brown eyes at me. “So the three of us are going to get Stella?”
I nod.
“Then what?” she asks.
So many questions. When will she learn that this is not my first hoedown? Showdown? Whatever. “Then I will tell you the rest of my plan. Let us go. I believe I hear Freddy approaching.”
We exit the garage, and a tiny blue car screeches up to the corner.
No. No. Noooo… Not again. There is an entire city filled with cars to steal, and he chooses this one?
Freddy’s large frame is crammed into the driver’s seat, and he’s hunched over the steering wheel. It pains me to think that is how I looked driving this car.
He lowers the window. “How’s this, sir?”
I snarl at him and am about to shove the blue weenie wagon up his ass when sirens approach and two squad cars fly by. There will be many questions by many officials about the explosion, and we cannot afford to get held up. We have bigger fish—we have more important things to do.
“Hey, it’s just like the one you used to drive,” says the librarian.
“Yes,” I growl. “I am aware. Get in.” We will have to find another ride later. At present, we must retrieve the child and get her and the librarian to a safe place.
CHAPTER SIX
Miriam
I know Michael isn’t telling me everything, which really ticks me off. Not more than his nonchalant attitude, though. He’s so calm and cool. So annoying!
Meanwhile, it’s taking everything I have to not get hysterical. Honestly, if it weren’t for the training my parents gave me—stay in character, stay in character—I would be crying and yelling at the top of my lungs. My mind can’t stop replaying the image of my precious books being blown to shreds, and my heart can’t stop screaming about the fact that Stella could have been there with me. She’s been going to the library with me every single day for weeks, helping to pick out books for story time, playing with the interactive reading games, and pushing the huge cart for me. She’s strong for a five-year-old. Had she been with me today, I don’t know what would have hap—
Wait. I’m assuming that it was a coincidence. What if the fact she wasn’t there isn’t random? What if Nice waited until he had a clean shot at both Michael and me? Honestly, the entire time I was with Nice, he always threatened to hurt Stella if I didn’t do as I was told, but looking back, he never actually harmed a hair on her head. In fact, he made sure she had a nanny who could protect her. No, I won’t ever forgive him, and I hated those nannies, but facts are facts. He never hurt her.
So if he was behind this, then what would have been my daughter’s fate once we were dead?
At this early stage of sleuthing, I can’t disregard anything until I’ve, well, disregarded it.
I tuck away that little tidbit for later. Right now, I have bigger fish to fry, such as coming up with a possible list of locations where Nice could be hiding with Lula. I know Mike is holding out, and I need him to trust me so he’ll dish.
Luckily for me, winning trust is right up my ally. I am a librarian, after all. And if there’s one thing we’re known for, it’s trust. People trust us to tell them which books to read when they want to fix their lives, be swept away in the best fantasy ever, do their taxes, raise their kids to be geniuses, or learn a new language—even the language of love. Books are information, and information is power. That pretty much makes us the keepers of the universe, so in my book—pun intended—that makes librarians as close to godliness as any human being can ever get. Or vampire can get.
I slide into the backseat of the blue mousetrap that Michael seems to detest. Honestly, I don’t know what he has against small cars. Yeah, I get that men see their vehicles as an extension of their penises, but Mike was born before they even had cars. Shouldn’t his hang-up be on swords? Or horses? Carriage size?
I realize we are driving, but I haven’t given Freddy, aka Michael-Two, any directions. “Stella is at—”
“Preschool, just off Camelback,” says Freddy, his dark eyes glued to the road.
“How do you know where her school is?” I ask.
“The king,” he glances at the man in the passenger seat, who’s too occupied on his phone to answer, “makes it his business to keep tabs on all his subjects.”
Jesus. The guy sounds just like Michael. Even his cocky tone is the same. And I’m not talking about this version of Mike. Freddy looks and sounds exactly like the vampire I fell in love with, which is stressing me out.
“Does he now?” I say with blatant skepticism.
Freddy is silent on the matter.
“So,” I say, buckling in out of habit, “after we get Stella, what’s the plan?”
Michael joins the conversation. “You are unsafe at your home. You will come with me to Cincinnati.”
“You want us to come to your house?” I ask.
“To a house,” he corrects.
A safe house, he means. Michael thinks I’m just going to hide while he fills out paperwork. “Sorry, but I don’t like that plan.”
Michael pivots in the passenger seat to offer a stern warning with his intense dark eyes. I can’t deny that his gaze stirs up old feelings. “I am your king, and your level of enthusiasm for my decisions does not weigh into the matter. Best you accept that.”
His gaze also stirs up new feelings. I want to punch him in the nose. “Yes, I get it, Michael. You don’t love me anymore. You don’t love Stella. Our needs and feelings mean nothing to you, but I will not be relinquishing my rights as a mother. Best you get used to that.”
Freddy keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, and his grip tightens on the steering wheel. He probably doesn’t appreciate the tone I’m taking with his king. I might be new at this whole vampire gig, but I know from my Keeper studies that vampires are extremely loyal to their families and societies. There isn’t anything they won’t do to protect them.
I believe it’s because vampires feel with such intensity. When we need, we need with all our hearts. When we love, we love like there’s no tomorrow. When we want revenge, nothing will stand in our way. For example, the moment I woke up after being turned, my emotions felt like a freight train, and I was tied to the front, along for the ride. My need to find Stella, who’d been taken by Nice at the time, was like a fury I’d never known.
Now, after a few months of being a vampire, I’ve made some progress reining in my emotions, but I think that has more to do with the years of discipline my parents taught me. Self-control is the cornerstone of who I am. That’s why Michael is my Achilles’ heel. Even when I was human, I couldn’t resist my feelings. I wanted him. I still do—the old Michael, anyway.
Honestly, I wish I knew how to fix him. I miss his laughter and humor. I miss the way he used to look at me with intense desire and admiration. Once upon a time, I could do no wrong in his eyes. Now I’m just another one of his subjects.
Still looking over his shoulder at me, Michael lifts his chin. “I sense disapproval in your tone, librarian, but I recall a time when you accused me of poor judgment. You claimed my feelings for you were a hinderance. So, problem solved. My attention is now laser focused on my responsibilities to you and all my people.”