Page 2 of The Librarian’s Familiar

Charlie Quinlan signed for the six boxes of books. It seemed as though the previous librarian, who had managed to stick out this position for nine years, had also managed to not spend a cent of the library’s budget on fiction books—though he had expanded the nature, hunting, fishing, and survival non-fiction sections—which meant he had nine years to catch up on.

Not only that, but the town’s library was sorely lacking in young adult fiction to the point it didn’t exist unless it had been written in the seventies, adult fiction from this millennium, and there was absolutely nothing with any queer themes. Which he intended to rectify so that anyone questioning their identity at least had a starting point.

Not only that, but since he was stuck there for three years, he wanted to make sure he had something decent to read. There had to be some perks to the job.

“And where are you planning on putting all of these?” The man asked. He was a bear shifter—probably polar bear, but there were a few brown bears in town, too.

Charlie smiled. “I am reviewing the collection, as some of these books haven’t been taken out in a decade, and re-organizing the library space to make it more welcoming.” He had a whole list of things he wanted to do.

“Huh. Is that why you started having the toddler mornings?”

Charlie sighed. Some people didn’t understand that a library could be a central hub for a town. A place to get together which didn’t involve drinking beer or buying overpriced coffees—no shade on the coffee store because they made a decent almond milk cappuccino. Sometimes it was nice to sit in a warm environment where there wasn’t loud music or loud conversation. Somewhere without all the chaos.

For that reason alone, he’d always loved libraries.

The toddler mornings only happened once a week; that was about all the chaos he could handle. But shelving all the books in their correct place afterwards was very soothing.

“I want to make this place inviting, instead of a dusty relic next to the city hall.” And just over the road from a church that looked old enough to have stood watch over the town for as long as it had been in existence.

The first month he’d been in town, people had been coming in because they were curious. A new librarian was the most exciting thing to happen all year. Many of them had wanted to know if he was on his own, which of course he was because he couldn’t imagine having a partner willing to move to such a remote place with him. Hell, it wasn’t his first choice either, but the pay was good—mostly because the Coven paid his salary, not the town, along with a bonus for each year he stayed—and the unofficial side of his job was interesting.

The delivery man scratched the back of his neck. “I guess that’s a good thing. Better than hanging out by the lake and making trouble like I used to.”

Charlie had already heard several stories about what used to happen down by the lake. Some were innocent, such as building rafts and huts, and others involved more serious shenanigans. The trouble with a predominantly paranormal town was that young shifters and witches liked to test their abilities, and even play fights could turn deadly.

He was supposed to assist with the paranormal education of young witches. Though he wasn’t the best person to be doing that, as it meant lying about his magic. As far as anyone in Claw Lake was concerned, he was telekinetic.

“And the first trick to getting teens wanting to come here is having books that they actually want to read.” Which also included comics and some games. He also wanted to start a board game night, but he hadn’t managed to get approval from the powers that be, as it meant opening in the evening, so that was a work in progress. Still, he couldn’t change everything in his first three months.

If he did that, what was he going to do for the next thirty-three?

He couldn’t sit in the library and twiddle his thumbs waiting for something to happen while at the same time hoping that nothing would.

“I guess that makes sense. Does that mean you’ll be ordering more books? Will you be taking requests?”

Charlie grinned. “I will be getting more books, and I have a sheet where you can make requests.” He leaned over the counter and grabbed one off the desk. “It explains how to search what we already have, and the information I need…the book title and author are really important, and there’s even a spot for suggestions about what you’d like to see more of in the library. So if you’re into a hard sci-fi or military thriller, write that down, or if you would love a chess competition…” He held out the paper.

“Oh, I don’t read. I was just wondering if I’d have to lug more book boxes around.”

Charlie glared at the bear shifter. “Not reading means you haven’t found the right genre yet. The one that speaks to you. Perhaps you’d be more interested in audiobooks? For when you’re driving around?”

The bear frowned. “Is that reading?”

“It sure is. We have some on disc,” he’d also found some cassettes and almost died in horror. “But I’m in the process of signing up so we can access newer digital titles.” The one computer in the library was a large, sad beige thing that ran on an operating system that was no longer supported. He was surprised it connected to the Internet at all. Fortunately, he had brought his own laptop and had requisitioned some updated hardware from the Coven. They had been unaware that this outpost was so under-equipped, given that money had been spent.

It had only taken Charlie a week to discover that the only technology the previous librarian had spent money on was fishing rods. He had used his nine years in Claw Lake as an early retirement plan, where he did as little work as possible and as much fishing as he could possibly fit in—which explained all the fishing and wildlife books and magazine subscriptions.

As a result, Charlie was pretty sure the Coven was making sure they never sent anybody near retirement age to outposts again. However, people weren’t exactly queueing up to do the job. The promise of a bonus was the main reason he had agreed. He also hoped that he fit in better in a paranormal town than he did in human ones because he was tired of being the odd one. The one with the weird magic that no one wanted to acknowledge.

He was as rare as a fire witch, and infinitely more dangerous.

“So I could make audiobook requests?” The bear shifter asked.

“Yup.” Charlie smiled. “The more I know about what everyone likes to read, the better I can tailor the collection.”

“Well, I guess I better take that and see what you’ve got. Maybe you should have an information session.”

“I had one about four weeks ago.” Charlie sighed. “One person attended, and they were already a regular.”