Page 65 of The Librarian’s Familiar

The shifters hadn’t. “That doesn’t mean they won’t be pissed. Where is their magic stored?” Because as far as he knew, when a witch had their magic stripped, it wasn’t discarded. The Coven stored it in objects in case it was useful.

“There are magic stores all around the world. It could be anywhere. You need to focus on the storm, and you can’t do anything if you’re dead. You need to get on a plane and get out of range.” She sounded worried, which did nothing to calm the fear clawing through his blood and tightening his chest. His mother was never worried.

“Mom, I can’t leave my post. You know that.”

“What are you going to do? Stand out there and dismantle it yourself? It’s not shoelaces.”

Charlie blinked, ready to argue that he could do far more than undo shoelaces now, but he stopped. While a storm wasn’t shoelaces, or even the bond between mates, his magic was good at doing exactly one thing. What if the Fates had brought him here for this exact reason?

He shook his head. While some paranormals held a strong belief in the Fates and magic putting them where they needed to be, he’d never believed it and had always called it coincidence. Magic was physics, and life was a series of events that eventually created some kind of pattern, because people didn’t really change. They had a set of behaviors and thoughts which created the patterns…

He’d been lured here by the bonus because he liked money and working in libraries. A man capable of being his fated mate had returned home when he could’ve gone anywhere in the world. And fate had smashed them together as if hoping to make it stick this time.

He was on the cusp of letting August go, because it was easier to be on his own. Because everything he touched unraveled. He was a series of repeating patterns and had somehow ended up right where his magic was needed.

“Yeah, Mom. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Charlie, please. You don’t know who is making it or what they want.”

“That’s why I called you.” If there was one thing his mother was excellent at, it was being an agent. “I need to go, so the town can prepare.”

If he failed, at least the townsfolk would survive.

Hopefully, he would, too, as he did not want a heroic but tragic death. He glanced around the library. He still had things to do.

“Charlie, you don’t need to be in the thick of it. You’re an agent now. That means thinking things through. It means making the smart choices. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.”

“I need to be here. I love you. If you hear anything, call or leave a message or something.”

“Magic will disrupt everything sooner than you expect. You’ll be cut off and on your own.”

Charlie bit his lip. Except he wasn’t on his own. He had a familiar and an entire town of paranormals. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Why does the librarian want to know about birds?” August’s mom asked.

“I don’t know.” That was the truth because Charlie hadn’t given him any details, only that there might be a problem. Because he’d also asked about storm protocols, August was assuming it was storm-related, but until Charlie gave him any more information, he wasn’t going to start doing anything, and that included speculating.

His father was in the kitchen making dinner, while August helped his mother fold laundry. She had decided that today was a good day to change all the bed linen, including his, even though he’d told her that he could take care of it. At least she hadn’t rummaged through his room to gather up his dirty laundry. That was more of an invasion of privacy than he could handle. He was so used to his own space and his own way of doing things that having her offer was intrusive, even though she was helping.

“Well, now you’ve asked. It’s all I can think about. I’m sure there were birds around yesterday. Do birds leave if there’s going to be an earthquake?”

“I have no idea.” He started his second attempt at folding the fitted sheet. There was an art to it, and even though he had watched several tutorials online, it was not a skill he possessed. Though he was pretty good at folding it into thirds and doing a kind of roll and tuck maneuver, which he then squashed flat, so it looked the part.

His mother raised her eyebrow and took it off him.

“It’s fine.” He wanted to tell her that he’d managed fine all these years without her watching over his shoulder, but him leaving home so young had been difficult for her. He’d only realized that in his twenties. As a teenager, he ‘d been too caught up in his own bullshit.

Some might argue he still was.

She placed the perfectly folded fitted sheet on his pile and fixed him with another look. “And how come he called you?”

August swallowed, not wanting to have this conversation even though it was one he should be able to have without cringing. “I was helping him with the library renovations.”

That was such a copout.

“Which was very kind of you…but why did he ask you?”