Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (9 page)

Steam
tickled my nose as I nursed the hot liquid, bitterness rolling down
my throat. I finished it before I even entered the doors of the
building, throwing the cup into the trash.

Inside,
it was virtually empty.
No
one comes here on the weekend,
I
mused. Heading to the front desk, I caught the eye of an older
woman.

“
Hey
there,” I said politely, fingers gripping the edge of the
counter. “Um, I'm looking for books on a certain topic. Can
you help?”

“
Of
course!” Beaming, she adjusted her spectacles. “Tell me
what you need, I'll look it up right away for you.”

Huh,
this seems too easy. Where's the catch?
Wrinkling
my forehead, I pulled out the piece of paper from my pocket. “Here,
this is the word I need to check out.” Sliding it across to
her, I watched her squint at my writing.

Quickly,
her smile fell into an unsure wrinkle. “What does 'twaelin'
mean?”

“
That's
why I'm asking you,” I said, my cheeks flushing pink.
This
is stupid.
“Can
you look it up, see if you have any books about it?”

She
made a small noise in her throat, then began tapping into her
computer. “Let me see... hmn... Well,” she laughed,
clicking the mouse loudly, “we have books on 'Twilight' and
'Mark Twain' but otherwise...”

Of
course, that's what I expected,
I
thought in frustration. “Alright, thanks anyway. Mind if I
look around?”

Waving
her hand to indicate it was fine, I strolled off to wander the tall
shelves of books. Not even knowing where to start, I headed to the
mythology section.

I
found all sorts of books on monsters, demons, fae... everything but
what I was after.

Dropping
a heavy book onto the stack beside me, I stood on tip toe, trying to
reach a red tome just out of reach.

Grunting,
I strained harder, finger tips just brushing the binding.
Almost
got it, come on...

Long,
elegant, a pale hand slid past mine and gripped the book. Spinning
away, I stared up at the tall figure of my English teacher. “Mr.
Birch!”

Smiling
pleasantly, he offered me the thick book. “Miss Everette, good
to see you spending your time in the library.”

Blushing
furiously at his backhanded comment, I took the tome and slid it
under my arm self-consciously. “Uh, yeah. Why are you here,
though?”

“
Research
for the class, that's all. However,” he said, drawing out the
word as he stared down the bridge of his nose, “what are
you
researching?”

“
Oh,
uh, I'm not researching anything,” I said quickly, glancing
down at my tower of books. It almost reached my knee. Peeking up
through my lashes at Mr. Birch, I gave a defeated sigh. “Alright,
yes, I'm researching something. It's just a little silly, is all.”

Folding
his hands behind his back, he tightened his mouth into a tiny dot.
“Well, now I'm curious. What's so silly?”

Ugh,
dammit.
Scratching
the back of my neck, I offered the heavy book up so he could read
the cover.

Leaning
in, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Hmn. 'Ancient Devil
Lore.'” His grin was far too amused for my liking. “Miss
Everette, are you honestly researching demons?”

“
Not
exactly,” I answered, thinking about how offended Nethiun had
been last night. “More like something... similar.”
Reaching down, I gathered up my collection. It almost blocked my
vision, so I turned sideways so he could see my face. “Anyway,
sorry to be so weird. I need to go through these, so. Yeah.”

Mr.
Birch was staring at me, reminding me of an owl who was debating
striking its prey. It was a look that made my pulse thrum
erratically. “Something
like
a demon?” he asked softly.

My
throat felt as if I'd swallowed pure flour from the bag. “I—yeah.”

“
That's
a dangerous thing to go digging up,” he whispered, glancing
around like someone was listening.

Uneasily,
I followed his example. “Is it?”

Chuckling,
he leaned back and let the mood return to normal. It happened so
fast, I wasn't quite ready to relax. “Only if you believe in
such things, perhaps.”

“
Do—do
you believe in those kind of things, Mr. Birch?”

His
face smoothed, his expression placid and unreadable. “There's
a bit of truth in all myths and legends. But,” he said,
tapping my stack of books and nearly throwing me off balance, “you
aren't likely to find anything useful in those.”

Gaping,
I had to fight from dropping the heavy load in my despair. “You're
sure?”

“
Quite
sure. You'd need to find a collector of rare old books to discover
even a glimmer of useful information.”

Sighing,
I lowered the tomes back to the floor. “Wish I'd known that
before I'd picked all these out.”

“
It
wasn't a total waste,” he said softly, watching me shove the
books back onto the shelves.

Blinking,
I reached up, trying to shove the thick red book back into its slot.
“How so?”

My
professor took it from me, easily sliding it back like a puzzle
piece. “Miss Everette, you're forgetting who you ran into
today.”

Lifting
my eyebrows, I stared at him with rising excitement. “Are you
trying to tell me... that you collect the kinds of books I'm looking
for?”

His
large hand clasped me on the shoulder firmly, making me jump. “I
do believe you're in luck, Miss Everette.”

Gale
Everette

Mr.
Birch's house was only a thirty minute drive away from the campus.
Even so, the road felt like it went on forever.

With
my hands balled up in my jacket pockets, I alternated staring
sideways at him as he drove, and out the window as we crawled away
from the city and further into the stretch of secluding trees.

I
almost asked how much longer we had, but before that was needed, the
house came into view beyond a covering growth of bushes.

“
Wow,”
I said stupidly, staring at the large building in admiration. “Your
place is gigantic!”

His
laugh made me flinch, until it was clear there was no malice. “I
guess it is.”

Rolling
into the driveway, he stopped the engine and climbed from the bright
red vehicle. Following suit, I left the warm pocket of air and stood
in the crispness.

Standing
at the base of the large house, I looked straight up and tried to
whistle; all that came out was a weak puff of air. “Um. Maybe
this is rude, but please tell me you don't live here alone.”

“
It's
not so bad,” he said, striding for the front door. Shaking my
head, I brushed back my hair, following him.

Inside
the mansion—for what else could it be?—the place smelled
like... nothing. So much so, I wondered if he ever spent any time
there.
Maybe
he just orders in a really good cleaning lady.

Mr.
Birch led us up a set of stairs, looking out of place in his own
home. “This way, in the study.”

The
study,
I
thought in dulled shock.
Who
has a study these days?

Glancing
around at the dark walls, the lack of pictures or decoration, I felt
a pit grow in my belly. It was weird to be in a place that felt so
empty.

No
photos of anyone at all?

Rounding
the corner from the hall, the burgundy carpet eating up the sound of
my boots, I found myself staring into a curved study with books
rising along the walls.

Standing
in the doorway, I looked upwards as I whispered. “This is all
yours?”

“
Correct,”
he said, moving to a wall and thumbing over the bindings of some
thick tomes. “Here, this should do.”

With
my excitement making my skin tingle, I approached him carefully.
“You're really okay with letting me borrow these?”

“
This
,”
he clarified, offering me a book so large I needed both hands to
hold it. “Just this.”

“
Just
this?” Laughing, I arched an eyebrow at him. “Mr. Birch,
this is gigantic.” Peeking at the shelves, I wondered where he
had taken it from. It didn't seem to fit among the other literature
I could see.

Folding
his arms, he looked at me over his spectacles. “Do you want it
or not?”

My
shoulders stiffened as I hugged the book close, the scent of old
leather and dust threatening to make me sneeze. “Sorry, yes.
I'd love to borrow it, if you're really alright with that.”

Grinning,
he brushed a hand over his strands of dark hair. “I'm always
happy to encourage young minds to pursue the world of research. Just
be careful with it, it's rather old.”

“
I
can see that,” I murmured, peering at the yellowed pages.
“Seriously, Mr. Birch, thank you so much.”

His
smile was gentle, smoothing his normally hard face. “We're not
in class. Call me Wallace.”

“
Thanks,
um, Wallace.” The name felt awkward on my tongue.
He's
seriously being way friendlier than I've ever seen him before. Maybe
I just needed to spend time with him out of class to see it?

“
Anyway,
I shouldn't take up anymore of your day. Can you give me a lift back
to the campus?”

Gesturing
to the door, he bowed his head. “Of course, after you.”

Heading
down the hall again, I once more noted the empty walls. Slowing, I
stared closely at the square pattern near the staircase entrance, a
section that seemed cleaner than the rest. “Mr. Birch,”
I said, pointing. “What used to hang there?”

Behind
me, he stood like a silent sentinel. The prickle that crawled up my
neck came so fast, I found it hard to make myself look over my
shoulder at my teacher.