Page 96 of Magic of the Damned

I turned to find the man who’d judged my clothes earlier leaning against the frame of the opened door, offering me a sympathetic half smile.

Nodding, I followed as he led me through the library, around the stacks, and down another hallway to a door. He opened it to reveal an oasis. A vibrant tall fiddleleaf plant in the corner offered the dose of greenery I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much. On one of the shelves and on the corner of the desk were smaller verdant plants. The one with a hint of pale orange reminded me of a plant that Cameron, the owner of Books and Brew, had in her office. I sighed. I missed her, too. I could use her infectious optimism and vitality now.

“The only one that’s real is that one.” He pointed to the plant on a table next to a chaise at the opposite end of the room. “It doesn’t require a lot of light so it can thrive with the light from the greenhouse. I take it out there occasionally for a dose. It’s not the real sun, but it’s serviceable.”

I got the impression that the fake sun was as much for him as it was for the plants. The sage-gray walls… I exhaled at the peace they invoked. It felt like I had been holding my breath since I left the spectacle between Dominic—or rather, Dominicus—Areleus, their drama, and the threat of death. Pushing all thoughts of that from my head, I took in the oversized curved boucle sofa and the combination of traditional and deco art and furniture. It was a surprising design style for a man who wore a vest and speckle-rim glasses.

“I love your office,” I said, making a huge assumption since the spacious room, except for the desk, didn’t look like a typical office.

Pleased, he headed to a narrow, free-standing range in the kitchen nook. He added water to the gooseneck kettle.

“Relax and make yourself at home.”

I headed for the chaise and settled back on it.

Within minutes of the kettle whistling, the aroma of chamomile and something I couldn’t quite identify hit my senses. Inhaling the scent didn’t make the incident from earlier disappear, but it was a comforting distraction. I crossed my legs, giving him room to sit on the end of the chaise, and extended my hand to the area, inviting him to join me. He was human, or human passing. It didn’t matter. It was comforting. He was comforting. Hesitating, he studied my face before taking the seat.

“Thank you so much…” My words trailed as I waited for a name.

“Jasper,” he provided.

“Thank you, Jasper. I’m?—”

“Luna,” he interjected. “You have been quite the talk as of late.”

That was surprising to hear since my interaction with people was limited. “Really?”

“Maybe not the talk.” He shrugged. “But you’ve piqued everyone’s curiosity. No one knows why you’re here. You don’t seem to have a job here and Dominic has never brought a…” He searched for the right word. “Paramour here.”

I applaud your search, Jasper, but that’s definitely not the right word. That description made a relationship seem benevolent and simplistic and the opposite of what existed between Dominic and me.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, not ready to discuss Dominic, his violent family, or his paramours—or people he enjoyed fucking and betraying, if Helena’s accounts were to be believed.

“Eight years. I’ve been here the longest. Usually, people stay a year or two. Chefs tend to stay a little longer, three to five years.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure why.”

“And the librarian stays the longest,” I teased.

“It was what I did before I accepted the invitation to come here. It’s easy and I’m surrounded by books. It’s a good existence.” He said it with a smile, but sadness crept into his voice and I debated whether to press for more information.

“You prefer being somewhere different?”

The pensive smile he worked at was achieved with a great deal of effort. “I prefer living in a place where there aren’t any reminders of loss,” he admitted. For a stretch of time, he was silent as we drank our tea. “My partner. He and I had many great years together, and when he died, it was a hollow existence. Here I have no reminder and I stay relatively busy.”

How, I wondered.

He leaned in with a conspiratorial look. “I’ve never been in the other room.” I figured he was referring to the magic room. “I spend a great deal of time trying to trick it into granting me entrance.”

My laughter lifted the somber heaviness that had drifted into the room and made him grin. I wanted to keep that grin there and him far from the morose mood I’d glimpsed when he spoke of his partner. I directed my attention to the cabinets where he’d taken out the tea. “This isn’t just chamomile, is it?”

His face brightened. “My special blend.” He escorted me to the cabinet and opened it to reveal canisters of various labeled herbal teas and blends. His love for it rivaled Emoni’s love for coffee. That squashed my desire for them to meet. A love for tea and coffee wasn’t the recipe for a budding friendship.

“There are a few books there.” He jerked his chin toward the table. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”

I took a sip of tea, grimaced at the tepid temperature, and was about to rewarm it in the microwave when Jasper’s eyes widened with disgust. Okay, I’ll drink cooled tea. He offered to make me another and directed me to the chaise. Watching him prepare the tea, I was convinced he enjoyed the preparation as much as the tea.

Lifting the hardback of Charlotte’s Web, I gave him a quizzical look.

“Sometimes a return to the books we loved as a child is what we desperately need.”

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