Page 5 of Definitely Dead

Instead of fear or panic, the kid rolled his eyes and huffed. “Fine, but you should really take your own advice and not be such a dick.”

“Maybe,” he allowed, a smirk curving his lips. “But not today.”

He waited for Aster to settle into the booth, then sent Orrin a questioning look. When he received a nod of dismissal, he sighed in relief and headed for the door.

The kid might think himself special, but Tyr had met a thousand other souls just like him. Cocky. Try-hard. The ones too proud to admit they didn’t have it all figured out. They were all the same.

Much like the Underworld itself.

Unmoving. Unchanging. A place that operated on uniformity and predictability, where nothing interesting or exciting ever happened.

Especially not to Tyr.

Chapter two

Thescentofoldleather and crisp pages filled the library, along with the strong odor of lemon and disinfectant. A hint of sweet magnolia lingered near the entrance, carried inside on the spring breeze as patrons came and went throughout the day.

Industrial air conditioners worked overtime, their loud hum heard throughout the building as they struggled to chase away the Louisiana heat. Behind the reception desk, a grandfather clock ticked down the hour, while creaks and groans joined the symphony as the place settled in for the night.

It was Sunne Tanaka’s favorite time of day.

He enjoyed interacting with the townspeople—whether that be discussing books or local gossip—but he always looked forward to closing time, when he had the library to himself.

A gentle rain pattered against the windowpanes, streaking the fogged glass and creating halos around the streetlamps outside. On the upper floor, a single light burned, casting shadows over the railing of the wide staircase.

Other staff members often claimed to feel unsettled in the place after dark, but Sunne had always found it peaceful. Soothing.

At twenty-four, books remained his first and only love. The real world could never compete with the thrill of an unsolved mystery or the lure of a well-constructed fantasy adventure. Besides, he understood books. The plot, the structure, the flow…it made sense.

People? Not so much.

As he moved about, reshelving books and dusting shelves, he tried to be as unintrusive as possible out of respect for the residents. While he had never actually seen a ghost, he remained a firm believer in the afterlife, and the library purportedly played host to at least three spirits.

He’d hate it if someone came into his home and started stomping around like a wounded rhino. He figured it only made sense to show the dead the same courtesy.

When he finished, he headed back to the circulation desk to retrieve a box of new arrivals. Thankfully, they had already been logged into the system and indexed. They just needed to be shelved in the restricted section.

According to the head librarian, they had always maintained a collection of spellbooks and magical reference materials. Miss Opal had told him that before the Awakening—when paranormals had come out of the secrecy closet—that kind of information had been hidden away like contraband.

Now, fifteen years later, the world had changed. Witches and elves came through the doors every day. The library hosted special nighttime hours twice a week for their vampire patrons.

At the same time, a lot of stigma still existed around magic. In an effort to serve the magical clientele while also navigating public opinion, Miss Opal had created a restricted section in an old conference room, away from casual browsers.

That way, people who wanted to access the books had the option. They just couldn’t remove them from the library.

Looking through the box, he chuckled at the odd assortment of new additions. A magical cookbook. A large tome on the history of magic and witchcraft in the South. A guide to communing with spirits. And a self-help book with a bright red cover and big block letters titledHow to Hex Your Ex.

Retrieving the key to the restricted section from the center drawer, he slipped it into the front pocket of his jeans. With the box cradled in his arms, he made his way past the rows of bookshelves and quiet study areas to the back of the building.

Situated next to the public restrooms, the forest-green door with mahogany trim didn’t look remarkable or mysterious. If not for theRestrictedsign posted on the wall beside it, no one would guess the room beyond housed anything more exciting than cleaning supplies and extra toilet paper.

Balancing the box on his hip, he unlocked the door and repocketed the key before turning the knob. The moment the door swung open, he knew something was wrong.

Heavy bookshelves lined the walls, interspersed with glass display cases, while cozy chairs and small tables filled the center of the room. His gaze was immediately drawn to a table by the arched windows, to the lamplight that illuminated the otherwise dark space.

Seated in a straight-back chair, a mane of strawberry blond locks tangled around her face, a young girl had her head bent over a stained leather-bound book. Though he couldn’t make out her words, he could see her lips moving, could hear her voice echoing in a frantic murmur.

She hadn’t noticed his arrival.

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