Page 64 of Monsters in Love

I manage a solid thirty minutes of research before Anya snorts loudly and then gurgle-chokes herself awake. She sits up coughing and blinks, clearly confused about where she is.

“Good evening,” I say.

Her gaze darts to me and she clears her throat. “Hi. I think I fell asleep.”

I raise a brow. “Clearly.”

She scrubs a hand across her eyes and brow, shoving fallen curls out of the way. “What time is it?”

“I have no idea. I don’t wear a watch.”

“Right.” She shifts and pulls a rectangle out of her pocket. “8:37. Phew. I was afraid it was midnight or something.” She stands and stretches, her shirt rising enough to expose a sliver of smooth skin. I refuse to notice it, or how attractive she actually is. It’s simply been a long time since I’ve seen a lovely girl. That’s all. I clear my throat, but she doesn’t notice.

“I’m starving. I wonder if Haven’s Hollow has a Thai restaurant?” She taps at her rectangle, and I realize it’s some sort of phone. Hmm. Times have changed since I last interacted with humanity. I need to get caught up on a few things.

“Score! Soup and spring rolls, come to Mama.” She taps the phone a few more times. “Are you hungry?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I have no real need for food. I can eat it if I choose to, but it seems an unnecessary mess to me. Besides, I’m working.”

“I see that. Trying to break the curse, huh?”

“I can’t see how my work is any of your business.”

She rolls her eyes. “Technically, that’s my book, buddy. And my library.” Her gaze sharpens on me. “How long have you been reading these books?”

“I haven’t harmed your precious property, if that’s your concern.”

“No, it’s not, Mr. Cranky. Ugh, why are you so prickly? It was a simple question.”

I stare at her, hoping to quell her, but she just stares back.

I sigh. “I’m not cranky, I’m busy. And you are interrupting me.”

“Oh, no. The horror of having to have two whole conversations in what…ten years? Twenty? I can see how that would really hamper your progress.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of communication.”

“At least is counts as communicating! Which is something you could really work on,” she says. “Anyway, I was asking because I’m curious how familiar you are with the contents, especially since there’s no card catalog.”

“I’ve been reading in here for decades. I’m quite familiar with the collection,” I say.

“Excellent. Have you seen anything in the spell books about mortgages and deeds? Refinancing, bank loans, that kind of thing?”

I shake my head. “No. Most of these books are quite old. They tend to predate concepts like refinancing.”

“Damn. I was afraid of that.” She purses her full lips in annoyance.

“Why? Are you hoping to refinance the manor?”

“No, nothing like that. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. I just need some info about a spell.”

Curious. “What else can you tell me about it? With more detail, I might know where to look.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Besides, my food will be here soon. I’m going downstairs to eat. You’re welcome to come if you want—I ordered extra.”

“Thank you,” I say stiffly. “But as I said, I’m busy here.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs and leaves the room, and I can’t help but wonder about the questions she asked. She told me it would be expensive to repair and maintain the house, but I can’t see her trying to use magic to fix it. From what I understand, magic has rules that must be followed, consequences if it’s misused. The witches I’ve known have mostly used it for healing and personal protection—things that help others or provide defense. Nothing that supports selfishness or laziness.

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