The Librarian Novels & Stories

I’d need a ladder to get it. I walk over to the librarian’s desk. His name is George and he’s in his mid fifties, I think. He has warm eyes and a few grey hair that he tries to hide with that librarian cap of his. He always gets offended whenever any of the students call him old. “Can I get the ladder? I need to grab a book from the highest shelf.” I say, leaning against the counter. He gives me a warm smile. “I’ll ask one of the guys to get it for you. I can’t have your clumsy ass getting on ladders.”

Maybe the librarian knew about Mr Hansson’s means of spying. "Run along, now. You’ll still make it in time," the librarian said as she walked to her desk in the middle of the atrium. Was she one of Mr Patrick's 'people'? Like Penelope? She could sense this woman was much stronger than the dean’s receptionist. Would she help them fight?

She looked up as we crashed onto the marble floor, her eyes—one gold, one silver—studying us with interest. "Well," she said, her voice like music and thunder combined. "This is unexpected. Escaped prisoners, a dying human, a guilt-ridden fledgling vampire, and—" Her mismatched eyes fixed on me. "—the little witch who opened the door. How fascinating." She set down her quill and stood, moving with a grace that made it clear she was something far more than human. "Welcome," she said, spreading her arms, "to the Library of Lost Deeds. I am the Librarian. And you, my unexpected guests, have a choice to make."

He hissed, staggering, but didn’t drop the makeshift weapon. Books exploded from the Librarian’s chest like shrapnel—fat tomes spinning end‑over‑end, paperbacks whistling like bricks, and loose pages turning to razor‑edged confetti. “Down!” Grant shouted. We hit the drift. A dictionary the size of a concrete block shrieked past my ear, slamming into the ground where my head had been, crushing a mound of pages into paste. The librarian reared back, chains writhing. “AUTHORS ARE RESOURCES,” it thundered. “NOT OPERATORS. NOT FREE.”

“Part-time assistant needed. Must be good with filing and organization.” I walked in. The smell of old books and paper immediately calmed me. It was a world away from the cold, sterile smell of the Ashford mansion. The librarian was an older woman with thick glasses and a kind smile. "Can I help you, dear?" "I saw the sign," I said, my voice a bit shaky. "I'm looking for work." She looked me up and down. I tried to stand taller, hiding my tired eyes. "Have you worked in a library before?"

" Hello pretty one, how may I help you?" The librarian turned to Lexa with a gentle smile and connected her fingers together while gazing at Lexa tenderly. " Please, I need to get a book on how to hide a scent," Lexa beamed at the librarian and grinned innocently. Though, she was anxious on how the librarian will react to her words but maintained a calm face. The librarian looked taken aback and adjusted her eyeglass, her gaze changed into a weird one. It seems she wasn't expecting that and arched her thin brows, " Excuse me?"

Beep! Beep! “Two books?” a bespectacled stern lady asked from behind the counter as the jock searched for his seldom-used library card. Already, the middle-aged librarian could tell these books weren’t going to be read. If anything, they would be used as a ‘reference’ for ‘studying’. If the blushing girl beside the jock was any indication, the date idea was hers.

A librarian who was passing by overheard me and replied, "Most of the pack members prefer to hunt or train rather than read, so the library is not very well-visited. But Alpha Matthew loves books and encourages us to read, so we keep it well-stocked for those who are interested." I smiled and said, "Thank you. I love reading too, it's a great way to learn and escape from reality for a while." The librarian smiled back and said, "Yes, it is. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask." I thanked the librarian and continued to browse the books. A few minutes later, Alpha Matthew entered the library. "Good morning, Lauryn. I

she begged and pinched her brows, making a look of helplessness. "Every written word is important, Lorraine. It's rather better to ask for a summary of the book than say 'only the important part of the book', okay?" Herla corrected her. Lorraine remembered her school librarian. This would have been the exact same response they would give to anyone who insinuated there's a part of a book that was less important than another. "Are you a librarian?" Lorraine's eyes followed Herla as she flapped her wings. "Yes. I used to be a librarian."