The Librarian Of Crooked Lane Novels & Stories

A slow smile lights up her face and she nods, preening lightly, “Well, I was going to say congratulations, on the Moon Jubilee. It was spectacular, and there’s really no other word for it.” I smile indulgently, “Thank you very much. I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.” She nods and looks away, this time with a slight blush coloring her cheeks, “I also wanted to ask if I could help you with what you’re looking for. Is it a work of fiction or some bit of pack history? I’m the assistant librarian, and we barely get anyone in the library lately, except for the random few of course.” I heave a breath of relief when I hear that because hells, I was starting to get a little bit frustrated.

"She hasn't earned rest anyway. And warn her Lady Cyrene doesn't tolerate the attitude. Hot headed girls don't last long in her presence." I stood slowly. My bones are rattling. The library was at the end of a long corridor that got colder the further I walked. When the door opened I understood immediately why no one had volunteered for this assignment. The Lycan s king childhood friend. Books covered the floor. Shelves emptied onto surfaces. Dust thick enough to write in. The kind of room that hadn't been touched in months and had opinions about it. I stood in the doorway. "I'm not doing that."

A simple I’m sorry or an I fucked up wasn’t good enough in this situation. I picked at the fruit and hashbrowns, leaving the burrito for dinner once my appetite returned. As I was packing up the head Librarian appeared at the edge of the table. She was a curvy woman with long hair threaded through with grey. Though we only ever exchanged a handful of words, I knew she was kind. She had started opening the library an hour early just so I didn’t have to wait outside in the heat. She could have easily reported me to faculty for all the potions I’d been testing out, but she hadn’t.

He nodded at me, and he just smiled. "By the day, I'm Art." I nodded, then entered the library and went directly to the librarian to get my library stomp before entering. I strolled inside and looked for the book I needed. Then I feel uneasy, and it seemed like someone was following me. I turned around, but I saw no one, and I continued to stroll. Finally, I reached the section where the books that I wanted are located.

I said, stepping out from behind Graham, not entirely making sense but continuing anyway. The librarian studied my face, then pouted and shrugged. “I don’t think a gray wolf could help much. From what I’ve heard, they’re disasters anyway.” Her casual remark made my back stiffen. “Do you have any information about the writer?” Graham asked, ignoring her comment. “I’m not sure, but I can check if you’d like,” the old lady replied, offering him a faint smile. We walked out of the library in defeat and told her to give us a call if she found any information on the writer.

I clearly heard the instructions Sain gave them and that is not something that needs to be delayed especially now that they already figured out the Mafia Romano. I took a deep breath. "Does the library located in the west wing?" I inquire. "No, it's in the north east at the end of the hallway near the-" "Got it," I cut him off. "I'll go get him" I smile and turn around. I already where is that library he is talking about. That's the place where I heard Nicolai and Sain talk about Laurent Alcatraz.

After a brief scolding from my teacher, I was sent to assist the librarian. The library was a sanctuary of towering shelves and soft whispers, its grandeur unexpectedly breathtaking. The scent of aged books and polished wood wrapped around me like a comforting cloak. Wandering through the aisles, I stumbled upon a dimly lit corner that exuded an eerie presence. A single book stood out—its cover blank and edges charred. Curious, I picked it up. "Weird," I muttered, flipping through its brittle pages. My blood ran cold when I saw my name inscribed on the last page.

I shot to my feet, furious, “What is it, creep?!” From the front of the middle aisle, the Librarian hushed loudly. Good thing she couldn’t see me, she would have likely thrown me out of the library if she knew what I looked like. Colin made sure the book was safely secure, he almost touched it reverently like a sacred book before rising to his feet. His eyes were a sharp brown and I suspect those eyes miss nothing. Strangely I could almost feel his gaze piercing my skin down to my bones.

She got to the door quickly, the library wasn't a large one. "Found anything?" The thick, low voice of the librarian stopped her from pressing down the old, heavy doorknob. She turned and smiled at the old man, who was sitting at his table, a lantern on it and a scroll in his hand. "Sadly no, but perhaps tomorrow." Her voice was gentle and a tired smile was on her face. This Librarian was one of the few people that didn't think she was weird at all. In fact, the only people who thought her weird were the young ladies in love with her soon-to-be husband.

I muttered, but I let him guide me toward the library exit. "I'm desperate," he corrected. "There's a difference." Walking past the front desk caught the attention of the librarian, an ancient woman named Mrs. Higgins who usually ignored everyone, and her eyes darted from Kyle to me before her eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared into her hairline. "Night, Mrs. H," Kyle said charmingly. She didn't answer but just watched us leave with her mouth hanging slightly open. "See?" I whispered as we pushed through the glass doors into the cool night air. "She’s confused. And she’s seen everything. She once saw a guy try to microwave a stapler."