25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

My brother Ben was a smarty pants, so smart he'd gotten into Oxford University. He was just the guy I needed. I knocked on the door to his room.

‘Hang on,' he called from inside, sounding flustered. ‘Wait a minute!'

There was muttering from inside and a flurry of activity. A minute later, Ben opened his door looking mussed; behind him, sitting with his legs crossed, was Noah. Ben was casually holding a folder in front of his crotch. I was grateful for that because I suspected it was hiding my brother's hard-on and I did not need to see that in my lifetime.

‘Am I interrupting?' I asked faux sweetly.

‘Nope, not a thing, Alpha,' Noah said, blushing.

My smile widened. Heh heh heh, fake dating my ass. I turned to Ben. ‘I need to go to Oxford, to the Bodleian. You want to come with me? '

He blinked. ‘Sure thing.'

‘Wonderful, let's go.'

‘Now?'

‘Do you have somewhere else to be?'

Ben licked his lips, slid a look to Noah then shook his head. ‘I guess not.'

‘Fab. Let's go.' Because I was feeling a bit cowardly, I texted Greg rather than going to find him in our so-called dungeons. I didn't want to see Kearns being tied up and beaten. It was easier to let bad shit happen if you didn't have to see it with your own eyes, so there I was firmly looking the other way. And if it felt like my soul was shrivelling a little? Well, wasn't that what happened to all leaders and politicians? Compromises had to be made, right?

We went around the back of the mansion to find a car. As we climbed in, Tarkers rounded the corner and frowned. ‘Your Majesty, you're not leaving pack lands with only a newly turned wolf for protection, are you?'

I blinked. ‘Um. No?'

‘Great. I'll come with you.' He gave a sharp whistle and Debbie appeared. ‘We're going with the Queen,' he explained.

Debbie nodded. ‘Cool. Where to?'

Tarkers shrugged. ‘Wherever she needs to be.'

‘Cool,' Debbie said again and slid into the back seat of the Range Rover. Ben got behind the wheel and I climbed into the front passenger seat.

‘We're going to the Bodleian,' I said.

‘Nice,' said Tarkers. ‘Are we going to see the Librarian?'

‘That's the hope,' I agreed.

‘He won't see you if your question is shit, Your Maj.'

I gave him a flat look. ‘I'm aware of that, thank you, Tarkers.'

The weaselly man gave me a thumbs-up, ‘As long as you're prepared for disappointment, we won't fail.'

‘What a wonderful outlook,' I responded sarcastically.

The fifty-minute drive flew by as Tarkers provided a running commentary on everything we passed. The amusing man was really growing on me. We pulled up in the park and ride and waited for the bus; luckily one arrived promptly and we headed into the old town.

At the Bodleian, Tarkers took charge of buying us four tickets for an Other tour of the library. ‘We start off with a Common tour,' he explained, ‘and then we sneak off and leave it when we get to the Other wing.'

‘There's an Other wing?' My brother looked excited.

‘There's an Other everything.' Tarkers grinned. ‘We like to have our own toys – we don't play nicely with others.'

‘You can say that again,' I muttered.

His expression grew serious. ‘You need to focus, Your Maj. Walk around thinking your question and nothing else.'

‘So I don't get to enjoy the tour?' I complained.

‘You can enjoy the second half if the Librarian doesn't think your question is worthy.'

I grimaced. It would be a pain if we'd come all this way and my question didn't qualify. But what was my question? Did I ask about the Domini, or the orb?

I bit my thumb for a second. The orb: it had to be. I needed to find out precisely when it was stolen and then I could go back in time and prevent the theft. Simple. Besides, I already knew that Nina had seen me in the past; she wasn't clear on precisely when in the past, just that it had been a long time ago.

I supposed my question needed to be precise – I didn't want to accidentally ask about some other stolen orb. For all I knew, orbs were a dime a dozen. When did the orb, the artefact that gives the werewolves their lost air powers, get stolen?

I walked around the Bodleian, gaping at the vaulted ceilings. A tingle ran down my spine to be walking around a building with just so much history, and I wanted to find a quiet corner, dive into its musty books and never leave. No one would kill me for being Queen of the Werewolves here. I could lose myself in some good old escapism and hide from my real-world problems in the pages of a damned good story.

The yearning was real and I realised abruptly that I'd stopped thinking of my question. Dammit. When did the orb, the artefact that gives the werewolves their lost air powers, get stolen?

Tarkers grabbed my arm. ‘Here,' he hissed. ‘If the Librarian wants to answer your question, the door will appear here.'

‘And if he doesn't?'

‘The illusion of the wall will remain and you won't be able to walk through.' He'd barely finished speaking the words when the wall in front of me transformed into a heavy, dark-wood door. ‘A door!' I squeaked, pointing to it.

Tarkers grimaced. ‘I can't see it. Debs?'

Debbie shook his head.

‘Nor me,' Ben said.

‘Looks like he'll just see you.' Tarkers looked worried.

‘You shouldn't go,' Debbie said. ‘We don't know what threats you may face and we won't be able to keep you safe.'

‘He's a librarian,' I sniffed. ‘What is he going to do – shush me to death?'

‘I don't know.' Tarkers' voice was grim. ‘No one knows exactly what he is. Anyone that speaks to him is bound in secrecy.'

Of course they were – and by an oath, no doubt. No one's word was good enough, not unless it was backed up with a magically binding vow. ‘Looks like I'm going in alone.'

‘Your Maj—' Tarkers started.

I shot him a steely glance. ‘Did you forget that I killed my challengers? I may be going in without you but I'm not going in alone. I have Esme, and she is probably deadlier than rest of you put together.'

Why thank you, she purred. It's nice to be appreciated.

I sent her a hug. I do appreciate you, I promised. Especially now that this mating misunderstanding was behind us.

Great. Let's rocky roll.

I giggled. Rock and roll.

Why would you rock and roll? she complained. In my head she swayed from side to side. Rocking is quite enough, she muttered as she stilled.

Focus, I chided her. We need to face the mysterious and potentially deadly Librarian .

If he's deadly, he needs a new nickname. ‘The Librarian' doesn't inspire fear. There is nothing dangerous about books.

Au contraire , my dear wolf, the written word has more power than you know.

She huffed. Come on then, let's walk into the lion's bookish den.

I couldn't have put it better myself. I reached forward, pulled on the heavy metal ring to open the ancient door, and then I stepped through it.