Sarge nodded. “Captain Reese and I went over the case notes. The movement of the fire is suspicious, and the convenient involvement of House Tellier has raised some questions. As a result, it merits a second look. Officially, however, we’re using this as an opportunity to build rapport with the humans—something we need since Orrin dealt a fair amount of damage to public property.”
I traced the rim of my slayer mask with my thumb. “Is there something specific you want us to watch for?”
Sarge met my gaze. “I’ll leave that up to your discretion, Blood.”
Woah. That’s something I’ve never heard before.
I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, either. He was Sarge: he was supposed to tell me what to do. I wasn’t in a position to make calls.
Either way, he wants us to dig, so we’ll dig.
The meeting room was suffocatingly silent until Sarge cleared his throat. “The division for the two remaining teams is as follows.”
He continued listing out names, but I picked up my mask and started fastening it into place.
We’ll start with the library as instructed. Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to find out what House Tellier was doing near the library that late at night…
It was dark and drizzling by the time Binx, April, and I arrived at the library.
Rain spattered us as we elbowed our way through gusts of wind, staggering into the library.
The book drop off station was directly to our right, and crammed next to it was the circulation desk.
I studied the librarians standing at their stations—an older woman with thick, bottle cap glasses wearing a brightly colored mumu despite the cold weather, and a younger woman who seemed to be compensating for her coworker by wearing two thick knit sweaters.
I glanced from the librarians to April and Binx. “April, do you want to take point on speaking to them?”
April blinked at me. “No.”
“No?” I repeated back.
“You’re the team lead,” April said. “You should be the one to speak to them.”
“We don’t have team leads,” I said.
“We’re named Team Blood, aren’t we?” April asked.
Yes, but that’s because whatever team I’m on is called Team Blood for reasons I’ve never been told!
“I’m wearing a mask,” I said. “I’ll scare them.”
April shook her head. “Sarge told you to investigate it. We’re following your lead.”
Okay, there’s just one problem: I am not a people person.
Somehow, I didn’t think that excuse would fly with April, who was staring at me with a stubbornness I hadn’t seen her previously display.
I turned to look at Binx, whose scowly face was darker than usual—she hated getting rained on—as she flicked water off her task force uniform. (She’d given in and changed to the long-sleeved winter uniform despite being a shifter and running hot.)
I’m a bad choice, but even I’m more of a people person than Binx unless she’s in her cat form. So, I guess there’s only one choice…
“Okay,” I finally said. “But if they refuse to give me information due to fear, I want you to take over. We need to talk to them.”
April shrugged. “Sure.”
I turned to face the librarians again and started sweating like crazy.
Both of them looked like perfectly nice people. The older woman in the mumu smiled and waved to every patron who passed by the desk and while her companion looked small and pale in her layers of sweaters, she laughed kindly at a joke a teenager told her.
I can handle this. They’re librarians. They’re not tricky fae or dangerously charismatic like Ruin. I just have to ask if there was anyone present last night who is currently working. I can do this.
I took a deep breath, then strode up to the desk.
The older librarian stared at my mask, then took in my uniform and April and Binx flanking me. “Can we help you?” she asked.
I stared at her, my mind freezing up as my anxiety got the better of me.
Nope. I can’t do this.
I would have turned around, but my body refused to move.
The younger librarian—the one wearing all the sweaters—joined her coworker. “Oh—you’re supernaturals?”
“Yes,” I managed to croak out. “We’re with the Curia Cloisters. We were here yesterday—during the fire.” Encouraged that I’d managed to say two whole sentences, I took a deep breath.
It’s okay—this is for work. I can do a lot if it’s for work.
“I was wondering if we could speak to someone from the library staff about the f-fire?” I had to consciously push my shoulders down so I didn’t hunch up like a turtle.
“Oh, of course. I’ll get Gail—she’s the head of the circ staff. You just hold on one moment, sweetie.” The older librarian smiled at me and sashayed off, her mumu swinging with each step until she disappeared down a corridor that took her into a walled off office area.
The sweater clad junior librarian smiled at us. “Gail told us about the fire at a circ staff meeting this afternoon—it sounded terrifying.” She shivered. “My heart would have stopped seeing the flames so close to our building!”
Her inviting smile told me it was my turn to say something, and this was a good opportunity to start digging.
“I’m aware the fire was put out before it spread to the building, but I hope it didn’t cause any structural damage?” I gripped my belt with my hands—I figured that was better than wringing them like I wanted to.
“Nope.” The librarian shook her head. “The city already had a contractor come out and check on the wall—no damage. You can go look out—well, maybe wait until the day, I don’t know that you’ll be able to see anything now that it’s dark outside. But there’s a clear line—the fire stopped a foot or two short of the building.”
“How lucky,” I said.
“Here we are—Gail! These are the folks from the Curia Cloisters,” the older librarian proclaimed as she led a shorter woman, who was maybe in her mid-fifties, with short brown hair and friendly brown eyes.
“Yes, we’re here to do a follow up on last night’s fire,” I said. “My team and I were in the neighborhood at the time so we followed the firetrucks to the fire. My supervisor instructed me to check in. Tonight,” I awkwardly added.
The new librarian—Gail—didn’t mind my awkwardness. She ducked out around the circulation counter, greeting us as if we were old friends.
“Hello—welcome back to the Magiford Public Library! I’m glad this time it’s for a happier occasion.”
“Yes. Um.” I shifted awkwardly. “We were sorry to see the damage to your landscape yesterday.”
“Ahhh, yes,” Gail agreed. “Our entire peace garden is gone—which is a shame. We’d just added all the plants this year after a fundraising push, and we’d worked with a landscaper to focus on native plants that would be beneficial for local wildlife—particularly butterflies. It was quite difficult as many native flora that the butterflies prefer are plants traditionally considered weeds—oh, sorry, I’m rattling on! It’s an occupational hazard.”
Gail smiled brightly at us—I was just glad she didn’t seem spooked by my mask. “The gardens may be gone but at least the building and the collection wasn’t harmed, and almost all the statues survived!”
She seemed to expect a reply, so I hurried to chime in. “Right. Absolutely.”
I looked back to see if April or Binx looked at all inclined to add to the conversation. Binx’s eyebrows were still lowered with unhappiness, and April wore a mild smile and wouldn’t look at me.