Read Reawakened (Chronicles of Cas Book 1) Online
Authors: E. M. Moore
Reawakened (Chronicles of Cas Book 1)
Reawakened
Chronicles of Cas: Book One
E. M. Moore
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by E. M. Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact E. M. Moore.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition April 2016
Chapter One
"Now, the vampires are
good
, right?"
Mrs. Fenton tapped her library card against the big wood desk, her eyes behind her thick glasses sparkling with mischief. I had to smile. If this woman only knew vampires were truly and utterly real, she'd get herself turned quick. She'd be one of the crazies standing in line for the chance to help them feed...and jump their bones. Thank heavens there were people like me out there.
I leaned over the front reference desk and whispered, "I think it's exactly the type of book you'll love. Very hot."
The older woman's cheeks turned a ruddy red as she feigned embarrassment. Please. She wasn't fooling me. This woman was a paranormal smut book fanatic. She didn't care if vampires were good or evil, she just wanted them hot, sexy, and naughty. The trashier the book the better. At seventy years old, she wasn't my oldest patron, but she was the oldest who came in consistently looking for paranormal romance. Something I happened to know an awful lot about. Well, the paranormal part, not the romance.
Funny that all she had to do was pay attention to what was around her to find the paranormal part. This was Salem, Massachusetts for Christ's sake. This city was trolling with otherworldly creatures. Hell, there was a fox shifter who came in every day to use the computer lab upstairs.
Most saw what they wanted though. At her age, if Mrs. Fenton could lift the veil that shielded her from the real world, she'd have a better chance of having a heart attack than getting a True Blood vampire to strip her. It wasn't all sex and vampires. There was real danger out there, too.
I scanned the barcode on
Vampire's Revenge
and told her it was due back in three weeks. There was no use, really. She'd have it back in three days. I handed it over and smiled. "Good night, Mrs. Fenton."
"Good night, Cassandra."
I walked her out of the library and then locked the door behind her. She'd been my last patron before having to close. Thursday nights usually didn't involve a flurry of activity for the library, but you never knew when a last minute patron would come in claiming a bibliographic emergency. For the record, there were no book emergencies. There are just book wants. And I, for one, wanted to get the heck out of here tonight.
It wasn't that I hated my job. I loved it. I just loved my other job more.
I pat the dagger I kept sheathed in the waist of my pants. It was an all-in-one type blade I custom ordered from the weapons specialist in Danvers. It would kill pretty much anything. Made from Damascas steel, it was infused with layers upon layers of different metal. Iron for faeries, silver for werewolves, and a hooked blade for cutting off a selkie's head.
Yes, selkies. If my grandfather were still alive, he'd spin a hell of a good tale involving one sexually frustrated selkie who had the hots for him.
It wasn't normal to have a librarian who moonlighted as a Ley Line Guardian, but that's me. Well, it was all me until my brother returned home anyway. As the eldest Marston in Salem, he was technically the one in charge of keeping its magical side hidden. When he returned, I would go back to helping.
I took the steps to the mezzanine level two at a time and then turned a hard left. It was just another part of the library up here to humans, well, to anyone really, except for Damen and me. This was where we hid the SPAWN library after the other hiding place was found by a shifty werewolf. The bastard. In short, that was how I became the city librarian, too. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
In the back of the mezzanine level, I waved my hand in front of the furthest bookcase. It opened automatically. I'd love to say it was by magic, but it was actually just the stone I wore in a ring on my pointer finger that claimed me as a Marston--a direct descendant of the founder of SPAWN. SPAWN stood for Salem Puritans Against Wicked Neighbors.
It may have been a good name back in 1692, but in the age of texting and laziness, it was just a mouthful. Besides, the Puritans had all died out, leaving just the name and the job. Over time, other pockets of guardians sprouted out close to ley lines once people started figuring out the energy beneath the lines called to magical beings, whether they were good or evil.
Today, there were different levels of guardians. I was a Ley Line Guardian. I stuck close to home and guarded my city from evil magical creatures. There were also Elite Guardians. They were kind of like the supernatural police of the entire magical world. From what I'd heard, I wouldn't mess with them.
My brother and I used the SPAWN library as our headquarters away from home. It was well shielded and protected with Wiccan magic, the best that Salem could offer--and trust me, it offered the best. The bookcase shut behind me as I walked toward the weapons cabinet. Like most nights, I was going out on patrol. My brother Damen and I figured a guardian presence made all the difference. It made those thing twice before they did anything stupid if they knew we were always around. As guardians, we were allowed to punish however we saw fit.
I stripped off my white blouse revealing the black tank underneath. Next came my librarian pants. They were breakaway in case I needed to get down to business in a hurry. Underneath was a very kick ass patrol outfit if I did say so myself. And I did.
A succession of thumps caught my attention. It came in threes. Knock-knock-knock. Pause. Knock-knock-knock. Pause. I whirled toward the monitor and wiggled the mouse. The screen lit up with nine boxes, all showing different parts of the library. The Board of Trustees had no idea how well-protected Salem Public really was.
I scanned the screens, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I even checked the outside camera above the front door in case Mrs. Fenton returned for some reason. It was a clear shot except for the night bugs patrolling the singular light above the door.
The three knocks came again and I froze. The cameras still showed nothing, but this was too much to be a coincidence. In the years I'd been a guardian, I learned not much was coincidence.
I drew the Damascas from my waistband and waved my ring in front of the fake door again. The bookcase opened without a sound. I prowled along the mezzanine and looked out on the floor below me. Nothing... Wait. In the reflection of one of the display cases, a green light shimmered. Fuck me. A fae. I had two options. I could run down the stairs and give myself away or heave myself over the mezzanine railing. Opting for option two, I used the railing to help launch me over the side and landed in a crouch on the first floor.
The fae finally shimmered into human form completely. My hand tightened around the dagger hilt, poised to act if I needed to.
He was beautiful, which is what made the fae species so damn horrible to deal with. It was so easy to fall in love--okay, in lust--with one and the not realize you'd been turned to the dark side before it was too late. His eyes were an amazing emerald green. A coif of blond hair framed his angular face. When he smiled, two dimples appeared. I wanted to roll my eyes. Perfection was so disgusting when it came in fae and they used it to their advantage.
"You are?" I hissed, fingers tightening around the dagger handle.
His lip curved into a one-sided smile. "A friend."
"I've never been friends with fae folk."
"Too weak to protect yourself against our charms?" His smile deepened as if he'd just figured me out in the thirty seconds we'd known each other. Arrogant little pricks, the fae were.
"Too smart to fall for it from the beginning."
He nodded once and then began to scan the shelves of library books closest to him. He picked one up, undeterred from the blade in my hand, and thumbed through it. After a while, he put it back on the shelf. In the wrong place. That was why librarians left carts around! Otherwise, we'd have to shelf-read the whole library every day. Hadn't he ever used a library before?
I gripped the handle tighter in my hand. He'd unknowingly triggered a sore spot. "Here for a little light reading? I've got a good title for you. It's called Get the Hell Out."
The fae turned toward me and quirked his head. "You're different than what I thought. I guess I expected you to be more docile, but with that tough as nails interior. Like Damen. You, though. You're like a rose, pretty
and
thorny."
My eyes narrowed at the mention of my brother. If he had relations with a fae, I didn't know about it. "And you know my brother how?"
"Friends."
I tried to say something sarcastic, but a howling laugh burst through my lips before a retort could even extract itself from my brain. Damen friends with a fae? Now that was funny.
He shrugged his shoulders and then searched the shelves once more. Again he picked up a book, fanned the pages out, and then put it back on the shelf where it didn't belong. Absolutely nothing got to me more than library book abuse.
"Are you going to tell me what the hell you want, or am I going to have to kill you just to get you to stop screwing with my books?"
The fae laughed. Even though he was masculine as could be on the outside, his laugh came out in a twinkle of bells. A shiver ran up my spine, reminding me of the real danger fae brought. This was how they suckered you in. It was best to have as little conversation as possible with one so they didn't send you into a rabbit hole you couldn't get out of.
I coiled and then launched myself at the fae. The tip of my blade grazed his throat. "Leave."
He winced. "But I haven't finished what I came here to do."
"Which was?"
"I owe your brother a favor."
Mind spinning, I pressed the tip of the blade further into the perfect, unblemished skin. "State your business and leave."
He stiffened, anger dripping from his voice. "Remove the knife from my throat. I am having a hard time breathing from the iron."
He was full of shit. The iron wouldn't do anything to him unless I... I just barely scratched his skin with the tip of the blade.
The fae's jaw clenched. "I think I like your brother better, too, and that's saying a lot."
"The point, fae." I pushed the hook of the blade into the scratch I'd just made in his light, almost transparent skin.
"A message," he ground out. "Damen sent me here to tell you to run."
I blinked. Run? What could that mean?
Not run from the fae. That was obvious. Otherwise he never would've sent the fae to me. Also, the fae owed Damen a favor. Once they owed a favor, they needed to follow through on it.
What else was there?
I opened my mouth to ask, but a piercing ring reverberated throughout the expanse of the library. Feeling like the dagger I held in my hand was currently being inserted into my eardrum inch by excruciating inch, I slapped my hands over my ears and dropped to my knees.
My. God. What the hell was that?
With me distracted, the fae stepped just out of reach. He turned, winked, and held his finger in the air. The air shimmered around him and he was gone.
This day had gone from exciting to FUBAR. A fae got the better of me, my brother sent me a cryptic message that I was going to have to spend all night figuring out instead of going on patrol, and my brains were about to mutiny and explode from my head.
Great.
Chapter Two
My skull felt as if it was going to split in two. The high-pitched screech echoed through the library's marble interior, intensifying by decibels until it just stopped. Poof. It was gone just like the beautiful damn fae and his cryptic message. The ringing in my ears would probably stick around until I was eighty and the type of librarian who wore her gray hair in a bun and used a necklace to make sure her glasses always stayed with her.