Chapter 17

In which Sam is forced to wonder who her allies are

I talked to most of the bar and bookstore patrons, but eventually I did find the one with Ole's number. Ole, the unblinking-eyed type, was an owl shapeshifter and special collections archivist at the San Francisco Public Library. I asked about his work when he first started coming to the bar to drink and stare. As a folklore librarian, he had access to very specialized databases that I would need to study.

When Dave arrived, I asked him to watch the bar because I was about to leave. “No, you won't go,” Dave leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, radiating annoyance.

“Almost sure I will. Hold the line,” I said as I walked past him at the counter.

"Stop." He extended his hand, blocking the way. I did, but mostly out of courtesy. I could dive under his arm. He flashed his eyes. I glared back fiercely. “What the hell, Sam? How many times does someone have to try to kill you before you stop making it easy for them?"

At h