Page 27 of Must Love Libraries and Libations
I didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him again.
“Wrong with you?” I asked, my heart thumping. “What do you…?”
But before I could finish my thought, a delighted trill pierced the silence.
A female bookwyrm zipped into the room, golden scales flashing. She flew quickly around the room, scanning the space. A moment later, a larger, sapphire-blue bookwyrm entered behind her. He surveyed the room frantically, as if searching for something important.
“What now?” Erasmus groaned, stepping back.
The blue bookwyrm’s eyes went wide, and he dove straight into my basket. A moment later, he emerged tangled in silver ribbon with a silver spoon in his mouth.
“Hawthorne,” Erasmus said warningly. “No.”
“What is—” I began, but the thought was lost.
With a triumphant squeak, the bookwyrm grabbed the basket by the handle and launched into the air, the female following excitedly behind him, chirping triumphantly.
They flashed past me so fast that I stumbled right into Erasmus.
He caught me gently.
I clutched his muscular arm, trying to right myself once more.
“Miss Windsong,” he said again, voice lower now, steadier.
I looked up at him, meeting his heated gaze.
In the moment, two thoughts warred within me. I had kissed the gargoyle and?—
“Oh no,” I exclaimed. “That basket has my planner for the whole year. My booking calendar. My finances ledger. My notes. My entire business is in there!”
Erasmus nodded once. “Let’s go.”
We rushed from the room, chasing after the renegade bookwyrms, and for the moment, setting aside whatever that unexpected kiss had meant.
CHAPTER 10
ERASMUS
We caught up to them in the Herbalism section.
They had spent the night building…without any additional rare materials or hexed books. Their nest was now massive and looked complete, but a bookwyrm never missed the chance to add something silver, which now included Stevenson’s cupcake wrappers. The snackish bookwyrm eyed me smugly as he tucked the last wrapper into the nest before disappearing, icing on his snout.
Miss Windsong’s basket sat in the center of the nest like a prized egg, Louisa May poring through the contents.
Rather than panicking, Miss Windsong stepped forward slowly, crouching down with the calm, cheerful authority one might use on an excitable child or a drunk garden sprite.
“What is her name?” Miss Windsong asked me.
“Louisa May.”
Upon hearing her name, Louisa May looked up at me, then turned her attention to the half-elf.
“Louisa May,” Miss Windsong said softly. “I see your hard work here. It’s an excellent nest. I love all the silver touches. Really, I do. Ribbons and spoons? A girl after my own heart. But, my friend, I need the basket back. There are things in there I really can’t replace.”
Louisa May squeaked and tightened her clawed hands around the handle.
“Hmm,” Miss Windsong mused. “You like silver things, right? I can make this nest glow entirely in silver. It’s a little enchantment I know. Let’s trade. My enchantment, which will make the whole nest appear silver, for my basket.”
