Page 8 of The Alien in the Archive

I’m just about to give up on my research for the night when I hear a commotion and a few people shushing someone, then a familiar face comes into view. Riley is stumbling down the aisle, a stupid grin on his face as he slides into the seat across from me. He opens his mouth to speak and I shush him too, glancing around to see who’s judging me right now.

Okay…no one I know.

Because I don’t have any friends besides Riley.

“Relax,” he says, leaning on his elbows. “Last I checked, this was a judgment-free zone.”

He’s disheveled as usual, his dark hair sticking up in alldirections. His shirt is wrinkled and he smellsstronglyof mead.

Whereas I’ve thrown myself into my work, Riley is making friends—like he always does.

“Let me guess.” I cock an eyebrow. “You got kicked out of another bar?”

“It wasn’t my fault this time,” he says. “Some Mlok group was hogging the pool table and clearly didn’t know how to play. I think…it has something to do with their talons. So I tried to teach them because I’m friendly.”

I snort. “And how did that go over?”

“He growled at me,” Riley says, grinning. “But it’s fine. They’re all bark, no bite.”

“Pretty sure they’re all claws and teeth, but okay,” I mutter.

Riley laughs. A few more people shush him. “You’re spending way too much time with your books. Or…are you just looking for another encounter with your ghost?”

My eyes slide up to meet his and I roll them as dramatically as I can. I should never have told him about my close encounter in the Archive—he will never let me live it down.

“It wasn’t a ghost,” I insist. “I told you; it was probably just a trick of the light and too many hours alone in silence. These things happen.”

“Sure,” he says with a smirk. “But you were still out of breath when you met me in town that night.”

I glare at him, but the memory creeps back—the shadowy figure, the voice in my head, the brilliant flash of light. I shove it aside, refusing to let it linger.

“That’s because it was late and I was…tired,” I snap. “Like I said, it’s a hazard of the job.”

“Or maybe you were being chased by the ghost of some ancient librarian,” he says, eyes wide. “Do you have some overdue books or something?”

“I swear I will throw this notebook at you,” I warn, holding it up.

He laughs again. “You would never. You’re too obsessed with your research?—”

“You’re disturbing the other guests,” a voice says, cutting into our conversation.

I glance up and feel a pang of dread as I realize it’s one of the librarians. She’s tall and lean, with pale green skin and crystalline eyes that glint under the glow lamps. The Skoll tend to look intimidating even when they’re polite, and this one is no exception. Riley freezes like he’s been caught breaking curfew.

“If you would…” she says, gesturing for us to leave.

“Sorry,” I murmur quickly, glaring at Riley. “We were just going.”

He flashes her a sheepish grin but says nothing as I gather my notes, stuffing them hastily into my bag. A few other students glance up as we leave, some with looks of irritation, others simply curious. I keep my head down, feeling strangely exposed.

It’s only a few minutes later that Riley is getting what he wants—me abandoning my work so he can drag me off to God knows where. I wrap my arm around him so he won’t stumble, and then we’re strolling out onto the plaza, his arm on my shoulders.

“I’m starving,” he says. “Aren’t you?”

“I was actually thinking I’d get you home so I can?—”

“Uh-uh,” he says. “You arenotgetting out of hanging out with me again. I’m starting to think you don’t even like me anymore.”

“Fine,” I groan. “What do you want?”

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