CHAPTER#15

"Um..." Mike didn't have any words. Tink noticing his sudden silence, rolled over and sat up.

Tink shook her head in disappointment. "Husband forgot pop-tart in pocket."

"What?" Mike stuck his hand in his back pocket. Sure enough, he had crushed the pastry into a disgusting mess. Pulling his hand free, he laughed, his fingers covered in brown sugar and cinnamon glaze.

"Husband a mess," she told him, picking up her dress. She slid it over her head, sitting on her knees in front of him. "And Tink tired."

"Yeah, me too a bit." The fire crackled at them from the other side of the table. "Wanna take a break for a bit?"

Tink nodded. The two of them crawled to a spot in front of the fire. Mike laid down in front of it, marveling at how it managed to burn without generating any ash. Tink curled up in his arms, and the two of them quickly fell asleep.

-

Dana rang the bell on the old house, eying the porch swing with some discomfort. It kept swinging back and forth despite any wind, and she briefly debated unhooking it so that it would stop.

"Hello?" She called out, knocking on the door. Some of the lights were on, but nobody was home. She didn't have much time to spare, not with three deliveries sitting inside of her car. She had just delivered some pizzas to a house only a few blocks away, so figured she would take advantage of the situation.

"I don't think he's home." Dana jumped, spinning in place and falling back against the front door. A woman with very dark skin in a white business suit stood on the front walkway. Her short hair was braided into tight cornrows, and she stood next to what looked like some carry-on luggage.

"Oh, shit, you startled me." Dana pushed herself off the house and hopped off the porch onto the cobblestone path below. "Yeah, um, I've got to get going."

"Do you know him? The owner of the house?" Her smile was unnaturally white and showed far too many teeth. It was the smile of a viper, waiting to eat the mouse it had just found.

"Not really." Dana walked past the woman, her eyes on the cobblestone path. She came to a halt near the end of the drive when she nearly walked into someone else.

"Excuse..." Dana's voice became a silent squeak. It was the same woman, that insidious grin still affixed to her face. Dana looked back toward the house, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"I am a member of the local Historical Preservation Society. We desperately need to speak to Mr. Radley, the owner of this house, about an important preservation issue." She handed Dana a business card. "My name is Kali."

"Um, okay." Dana took the card, sliding it into the pocket of her pants. Everything about Kali gave her a bad vibe.

"Thank you for your time." Kali nodded her head dismissively. Dana took the chance to bolt, starting up her car immediately. Looking in her rearview mirror, she wasn't entirely surprised to see that Kali watched her drive all the way down the street.

She didn't know why she did it, but thirty minutes later, she tossed Kali's card out the window of her car.

-

"Ugh." Mike sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tink clutched his arm tightly, her breath tickling the hairs on his arm. The fire crackled softly, the eternal wood burning without embers. Mike pushed himself up, rubbing the back of his neck. He fumbled with his pants, trying to button them back up without standing. The twisted fabric didn't quite reach, so he couldn't button them.

How long had he been asleep? His stomach growled, the sound loud enough that Tink stirred. She uncurled from him, wiping the drool from her chin.

"Too long sleep," she told him, letting out a sigh. "Now want more sleep."

"We never found what we were looking for." Mike grabbed one of the books they had knocked over. "Do you want to go back to the house first? I'm starving." Mike eyeballed the smashed pop-tart on the floor of the library. He definitely wasn't going to eat it now.

"Maybe." Tink stood, smoothing out her dress. "This place too big. Some books too distracting."

"Yeah." Mike saw the werewolf p**n book where he had dropped it. Chuckling, he picked it up, shutting its pages to put it on the table. He marveled at the idea that a giant, flying library would carry such a thing. "I think we should get going."

Helping Tink to her feet, he watched the little goblin freeze in place. Tink tilted her head to one side, her lips twisting into a sneer.

"Someone is coming," Tink whispered, grabbing Mike by the hand and pulling him behind one of the leather chairs.

"Who else could be here?" Mike whispered. The library was like a tomb, silent. It occurred to him that Tink's cries could easily have been heard by someone else. But who would be inside the library?

Footsteps on marble, soft echoes that reverberated in the little side room. Mike wondered if Tink could hear the hammering of his heart, wondering what sort of being would darken that hallway. The sounds grew louder, and Mike pulled Tink closely against him. He suddenly remembered that stupid hammer, an entire world away on the table of his kitchen.

He didn't have to wait very long. His heart filled with dread when a giant cloaked figure stepped into the room. He couldn't see its face hidden beneath the brown fabric of its cowl, but he did see the light of the fire reflecting off of the sword clutched tightly in gloved hands. The figure took another step into the room, moving with the grace of a dancer, the sword held ready before it.

"Come out," the figure commanded in a feminine voice that was both soft and menacing. "I would prefer not to get any blood on the books. It doesn't come out, and I'll have to clean it up."