Page 1 of The Librarian’s Familiar

CHAPTER ONE

August North stared out the window of the tiny plane that was full of supplies and mail for his hometown of Claw Lake. Even though he hadn’t lived there for almost twenty years, he still referred to it as his hometown because that’s where his family lived. And by family, he meant his immediate family as well as his very extended family.

If he included moving away for high school, it had been over twenty years since he’d lived there. While he’d been back for visits during that time, it had been five years since his last trip. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, only that he’d gotten more successful and busy and the off-season was filled with trips with friends and meetings with the right people and signing more deals.

None of which mattered now, aside from the fact that he never needed to work again. He closed his eyes, not sure that he even wanted to be on the plane, but he had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t as though he needed to train and prepare for next season. For the first time since he could remember, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

And he had no idea what that was.

Going home to see his siblings and parents had seemed like a good idea when he booked the ticket.

Now he was less than fifteen minutes away, he wasn’t sure. He could’ve gone hiking and camping anywhere. He could’ve lost himself in the snowy wilderness in a hundred different places. But his parents weren’t getting any younger, and his brother had been ragging on him to come home and meet his nieces and nephews. Which meant he’d have to deal with a big family dinner and the questions about why he was still single.

Because being a gay polar bear on an ice hockey team wasn’t exactly conducive to long-term relationships.

That was the truth, but it wasn’t what they wanted to hear. They didn’t understand what it was like to exist in the human world.

Sure, there were humans in Claw Lake—witches and a few humans who weren’t witches. But even the non-paranormal humans in Claw Lake knew about magic and shifters. It was different in Vancouver, and Seattle, and any other big city. He could count on one hand the number of paranormal players he’d played against, and while it was possible to find a paranormal bar if he looked hard enough, he also didn’t want that kind of attention.

“There it is…grows a bit every year. New houses and such,” the pilot’s voice filled the headset as he pointed to the town.

It was a good bit bigger than he remembered. He’d left because of hockey. That had meant dealing with hormones and shifts and schoolwork on his own…though he had an aunt who’d lived half an hour away if he got stuck, and his grandparents had been frequent visitors to the boarding school because they’d flown supply runs.

“How long are you planning to stay?” the pilot asked. He’d tried to make chit chat the entire way.

“I don’t know.” That was the truth. He had no idea what to do next. He was standing in the middle of an intersection watching trucks hurtle toward him, headlights blinding him, and he didn’t know which way to move. Maybe it was like being caught out in a storm. It was always best to stay put and not get further lost. In a storm, it was easy enough to shift and burrow in.

As a man, hiding in a snow drift until the world sorted itself out wasn’t the done thing. Maybe he needed to hang out as a bear for a bit. Two weeks wandering the wilderness and hunting on four feet might make him feel a whole lot better, even if it wasn’t going to fix his eye.

He didn’t even know if he could hunt, given that anything on his left was virtually invisible due to the damage.

“At least you’re here in summer,” the pilot laughed.

“All two weeks of it.” He’d heard all the jokes. He hadn’t forgotten them.

The pilot nodded, still laughing. “Are you really thinking about staying? You’re August North, you could live anywhere.”

That was part of the problem, though. He was August North. People still remembered his name and his face. So while he could live anywhere and do anything, people would still expect things from him. Maybe he was being selfish and wanting some privacy. At least in Claw Lake, he was just another North—the one who’d done the unthinkable and left to live amongst humans.

He had relatives who were horrified that he’d chosen to leave to play hockey…though what kid would say no to that opportunity? He also had some relatives who were envious and hid it behind his betrayal at leaving. They were the ones who tended to exclude him from family events, and the reason why he had stopped coming home at all.

It wasn’t as though he had abandoned his family. He’d sent gifts home and paid for unexpected repairs to his parents’ house—though even that had caused a stir, and then he’d had a few relatives he’d never heard from reaching out to put their hand in his pocket, which wasn’t cool.

He knew from his teammates that family was always a mixed bag, and some had similar problems. The trouble with making bank was that some people treated you like one, only wanting to talk when they wanted something. It was easy to say no to them.

He stroked his beard, knowing that while this was the right thing to do, going anywhere else in the world and renting a remote cabin so he could prowl around a snowy forest would have been a hell of a lot less fraught…and also lonelier. While actual polar bears were solitary, it was nice to go hunting with family, especially his brothers.

“I want to hang out with family for a bit…it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not a place you can pop down the road to visit.” The pilot banked as he spoke to the tower about coming into land. From the sound of it, they knew each other well. He lined up the plane and then took them in to land, which was a whole lot less bouncy than the last time he’d arrived.

The pilot glanced at him. “Are you able to help me unload? There’s no one else here, and the new librarian ordered a ton of books.”

“Sure.” Delaying the inevitable for an hour made no difference to him. Besides, a little bit of goodwill went a long way in the middle of nowhere. Out there, the size of his bank account didn’t matter. You couldn’t eat money, and it was only good for keeping you warm if you were setting fire to it. The one thing it did buy him was a room at the very small hotel, which was mostly used by adventurers using Claw Lake as a starting point for their fishing or hiking trip, if staying with his parents became too much. When he’d been a kid, there’d been no hotel as part of the adventure—hiking and seeing the glaciers—was camping.

If he’d booked a room, his brothers, sister and parents would have dragged him out and never let him hear the end of it. So as much as he wanted his own space, it was easier to agree to using his old bedroom. At least all of his siblings had moved out, which should make staying with his parents tolerable.

CHAPTER TWO