Page 65 of The Gloaming

The library was dim until Isabel and Adam lit small lamps along the wide aisle. Rows and rows of shelves lined the walls, stretching back further than I could see in the darkness, with more on the balcony above. A raised area at the back of the room held a huge, ornate desk that was strewn with paperwork and books, beneath heavy red curtains that hid vast windows. Now I understood why Adam had suggested this place – it felt safe in here. The rich scent of paper and furniture polish was comforting, and surrounded by books with thick Persian rugs underfoot, even my footsteps were muffled.

I released Nicholas’s restless fingers, tension and frustration still radiating from him even as we separated. Meandering down the centre of the library, I debated idly with myself how long it must have taken Adam to collect so many books. Hell, I’d have loved to curl up in here and read my way through all of them, but I couldn’t see the opportunity to do so coming up anytime soon.

As the room filled with the dim golden glow of the lamps, I took a seat in a high-backed chair upholstered in the samedamask fabric as the curtains. Nicholas sat beside me, so close his knee brushed mine every time I shifted. Despite everything that had happened today – or maybe because of it – I was hyperaware of his presence. I tried not to be distracted by the play of the light in his hair, highlighting coffee colours that I’d never noticed under electric lighting. He caught me staring.

“Nice jacket, by the way,” he murmured, his eyes briefly taking in the worn leather jacket I was still wearing. That familiar half-smile played at his lips, but thankfully he didn’t elaborate further. Instead, he leaned closer, ostensibly to reach for one of his diaries, and his scent – woodsy pine and something uniquely him – surrounded me.

“So,” Adam began. “Time for another thrilling round of ‘Which Vampire Killed Who and Why—’” He dropped a pile of leather books onto the table with a thud, and they tumbled down untidily. “My favourite parlour game.”

Nicholas shot him a look. “If you’re no goin’ to be helpful—”

“I am always helpful,” Adam drawled. “I simply think we could benefit from some levity while discussing murder and mayhem. Centuries of perspective should allow for that, at least.”

Isabel’s lips twitched. “Some of us prefer to maintain decorum, Adam.”

“Yes, and look how well that’s served us so far,” he replied smoothly, earning twin glares from both vampires.

“And your irreverence has achieved what, precisely?” She glared at him across the table. “Besides ensuring you remain forever on the periphery of matters beyond your understanding.”

“Children…” I muttered under my breath.

The tension dissolved a little, and I seized the opportunity to get us back on track. “Okay, let’s start with what we know. There are two of them?”

“What makes you say that?” Adam asked, taking a seat.

“There was the woman, but there was also whoever was calling my dad.” I leaned back and ran a hand through my tangled hair. “Tom thought the person who attacked him was Nicholas, so it stands to reason there’s a guy involved, too.”

“Smart,” Isabel said, her expression thoughtful. “But the woman in the park could have been anyone. You said yourself she didn’t engage with you. You hunt vampires. Therefore, any vampire would have the motive to—”

“Aye,” Nicholas interrupted. “Any vampire would have a motive. But the woman she saw didnae try to kill her. She was tryin’ to…” he searched for the right word.

“Piss me off?” I volunteered.

“That’d be it.” One side of his mouth quirked up.

“It’s a start.” Adam spread the books out before him, checking something on the back of each one. I took another from the pile and noticed it had a date stamped along the bottom of the back cover, embossed in gold. “But I dare say we need rather more than that,” he added. “What else have we learned? Didn’t your father mention an accent, Erin?”

“A Scottish accent,” Isabel corrected. “Someone you knew in Edinburgh, Nick?”

“Perhaps a relative unhappy with being overlooked?” Adam speculated. “It might explain the resemblance.”

Nicholas gave him a dirty look. “I’m no that careless.”

Adam held up both hands. “You haven’t always been as meticulous as you are these days, and we both know it.” He sighed. “ThoughIam keeping track. Despite how singularly dull James will be for the next few decades.”

I ignored them both. “How do we know the accent was Scottish?” I asked Isabel. “Tom just said an accent, and he probably assumed because he knew about Nicholas. I can check—” I pulled out my mobile phone and dialled my parents’ house.

My father answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Erin! Thank goodness; we were worried—”

“I told you before, I’m fine – there’s nothing to worry about.” When it came to my parents, white lies were the way to go. “Quick question though – it’s sort of urgent.”

He paused. “Go on.”

“When you spoke to Tom about your anonymous caller…” I prompted.

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