Page 5 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

Bruce sprang into action in the kitchen. He was one of the rotating group of down-on-their-luck young werewolves who Sal gave a job, free meals, and sometimes a sofa to crash on if things were really bad. I would’ve been amazed Sal managed to turn a profit with how much she gave away for free if I hadn’t seen the sheer quantity of pancakes she sold in one breakfast rush.

“How’s business?” Sal asked, leaning against the counter, sliding me a paper cup of strong black coffee.

“Same as usual,” I told her. “I’m headed off to do some research. How’s the wife?”

Sal immediately went starry-eyed, and I listened to her ramble about her wife’s new backyard chickens while I sipped my coffee.

Once I was given my precious bundle of a breakfast sandwich, I headed out, eating the blissfully greasy concoction as I wove between the other pedestrians clogging up the sidewalk. It wasn’t far to the Tomegrove Labyrinth, and I drained the last of my coffee in front of its nondescript door.

The Tomegrove was carefully tucked away in the Arcane Quarter, loaded up with wards that would make your eyes slide right off it if you hadn’t been granted access. Marcus and I had worked a job for one of the librarians, earning ourselves a lifetime of free membership.

I muttered the password, and the door swung open.

Inside, the Tomegrove was quiet and cool. The gentle hum of climate-control charms was barely audible, but it made the space feel more alive. The scent of books permeated my nostrils, and I smiled. I loved using my magic, and I loved helping people, but nothing made me quite as happy as research.

My footsteps felt unnaturally loud in the quiet space. This early in the day, the place was practically deserted. I stopped at the front desk and scooped up a small golden ball of light from a bin.

“Artifacts section, please,” I whispered to it, and the guidelight floated in the air at shoulder-height, about two feet in front of me, then set off through the twisting passages of the library. I followed after it, and once it had led me to the right section, it settled in a nearby study carrell.

Many of the books in this area were incredibly old and carefully encased in preservation charms by the conservationist witches who worked diligently in the back rooms of the Tomegrove. I eased a few promising titles down from the shelves and settled into the carrell, where the guidelight flared brighter to double as a lamp.

I threw myself into my research. Information about the ascendancy array was scarce. A few books mentioned it in passing, but none of them went into any real detail. Then, finally, a massive, dusty book yielded some results.

“There you are,” I murmured, brushing my finger over a complex illustration of twisting filigreed pieces fitted together into an hourglass shape. “The ascendancy array. Used as a reservoir of magical energy by powerful magic users.” The text was dry, technical, and had more information about the proper alloy compositions of the device than I needed, but it was the first promising lead I’d found. I pulled a small, well-worn leather notebook from my jacket pocket and began scribbling down notes. I was so absorbed in what I was doing, I didn’t even notice when another guidelight bobbed up behind me.

“Excuse me,” came a quiet, firm voice from behind me. “I need that book.”

“You can have it when I’m done with it,” I said distractedly.

“I’m afraid I can’t wait,” the voice said. “It’s a matter of some importance.”

“Look, you’ll just have to…” I trailed off. The stranger was tall and sharp-featured, with well-groomed, dark curls, and pale purple eyes. His skin was a cool brown, bloodless in a way that could only mean one thing. As if I needed another confirmation, his guidelight shone off sharp canines when he opened his mouth.

“I thought vampires didn’t come to the Tomegrove,” I said. “Too many common people here.”

“Charming,” the man said dryly. “Occasionally, there are times when the common people, as you put it, have something useful to us.”

“Like blood,” I said. A little petty, sure, but the lack of sleep was catching up with me. Most vampires these days drank animal or synthetic blood, but this guy looked rich enough that he might’ve been getting the real deal. His clothes were high-quality without being flashy. In the vampire world, that meant he was one of the ones who was so rich, they didn’t need to brag about it.

The vampire sighed. “Like knowledge, which is why I need that book.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” I said. “It’s a library. You can have your turn when I’m done.”

“I don’t know what business a witch has with a book like that in the first place,” he said. “Surely it can’t teach you much about finding lost cats or curing petty ailments.”

“Wow. Wow. Amazing. All of a sudden, I’m going to need this book for even longer.”

He scoffed, tossing his head back. The guidelight threw the brutal curve of his cheekbones into sharp contrast, the line of his neck very long, and my mouth went dry.

“This is important vampiric business,” he said. “So, run along and go back to brewing potions for erectile dysfunction or suspicious rashes.”

“Just because that’s all you go to witches for doesn’t mean that’s all we do,” I said, venomously sweet. “I’ve got important business, too. I may be on the trail of something very dangerous here.”

“I could just—” the vampire began, but a man came around the corner of the shelves. He had the head and legs of a bull, and was wearing a cardigan, as well as a pair of small reading glasses. There was a laminated badge clipped to his cardigan with “Hi! My name is TREVOR P. SENIOR LIBRARIAN” printed on it. Someone had decorated it with a sticker shaped like a dachshund.

“Shush,” he said, pointing meaningfully to a sign that read “QUIET PLEASE” in large, bold letters.

“Sorry,” I whispered, sending him an apologetic grimace.

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