Page 37 of The Vixen

Slowly, he reaches out to take it. The paper crinkles in his tight grasp as he pins me with a death stare. He doesn’t look thrilled to be leaving us.

Is he going to be the one to get the girls?

An image conjures of Angel with a gun to Thorne’s head, asking him one last question before he pulls the trigger.

Who sent you?

I can see my old friend in my mind perfectly. His chilled voice. His cold eyes. It’s funny that I once thought Luna resembled Liberty, because no. She’s Angel… Patient. Clever. Ruthless.

If he kills Thorne but learns I’m the one who sent him, he’ll come here for revenge.

If Thorne successfully captures Liberty, he’ll come to save her. And then get his revenge.

Either way, he’s coming.

Once Thorne leaves, Luna gives me a brief glance before heading for the door. “Come… It’s time to see the library.”

CHAPTER 10

SAWYER

I’ve been to the library twice before.

Once when I came to see Aurelius, and again when I came back to ‘save’ Luna. But as we walk through the double set of doors, it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time. Seeing her for the first time.

Minimalist.

Obsessively organized.

Worn spines of classics line the rows of one shelf, each book a similar thickness to the one beneath it. Together they make more than a dozen straight lines that extend to the floor, and I can just see Luna with a ruler measuring the width of every book. Carefully cataloging each into lists—one for old literature, another for nonfiction, a small sliver of modern prose and…

My brow raises as I pause on a neat set of books with pastel spines and curly spirals meant to be letters.

Romance.

A girl pops up from behind a solid oak desk that looks both aged and recently delivered—no pencils, no paper, no knickknacks to ornament the surface. She slams the book she’s holding shut and hugs it to her chest.

Round, caramel cheeks redden. She hurries to put the book back on the shelf before cupping her wrist and facing us.

“H-hi.”

“May I help you?” Luna asks with a voice made of ice. Tension coils the air until I feel it poke the hollow behind my earlobe.

The girl lets go of her wrist so she can wave her hands as she talks. “Aurelius… I-I meanChief Elder… He told me there might be a book in here I could borrow. He said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace.” The girl’s arms wrap around her stomach and pull her dress taut against her chest, revealing the outline of small breasts. I look away only to return my eyes to white ruffled cotton stopping an inch beneath her knees.

Nota dress. A nightgown.

“I should have asked you before entering?—”

“Does the book have a title or did he tell you to browse my things?” Luna asks with so much condescension, my brow furrows at her. The kid can’t be older than twelve.

Odd choice for an enemy.

A squeak. “It has a title.”