Page 31 of Suspicions on the Stage
“Might be why there’s a damn rebellion trying to worm their way into power; they know how ridiculous this shit is,” I say as I scroll through hi-def photos of documents old enough to make the castles of Europe look young. “Our smug ass royals and whatnot left the future generations wide open, and no one after them closed the damn loopholes. Fools.”
Leaning back in my chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering if the documents stored here are even the real deal. I wouldn’t put it past the Society or even my people to be hiding shit from the very students who are preparing to take over or enforce this shit. While we’re not as naïve as the humans, we’re also set in our ways. And those old ways have a fuckton of sillyintrigue and supernatural spy craft. That’s also why something like this might have flown under the radar for so long; everyone was too busy watching each other to see the small pockets of evil forming a shadowy association none of us would ever be looking for.
Using our bullshit against us is definitely clever as hell.
When my eyes are blurring,I head for the checkout desk to take the books I picked up before I started the digital research. Being a prince doesn’t preclude my graduate homework, and I have a pile of things to catch up on after our trip. If I’m honest, while I’m much more comfortable with tech than Kaspar, I still love the feel of books in my hand. Print isn’t dead by any stretch in Faerie, but here, it’s flagging more than I’d prefer. The tomes in State U’s library have the old book scent I know is degrading lignin, but still love to experience. It’s especially satisfying when they’re history books or fiction set in the past, and I feel like having a nice cup of tea with herbs from the garden while I read tonight.
Morgana will enjoy being outside in the new HQ, working quietly together, I think.
That means my bodyguard is going to be the odd man out, I bet, because the others will have to work as well. We’ll end up camping out in the structure Channing did such a good job putting together, and I’m looking forward to the cozy image in my head now. Of course, I have to get through the rest of the afternoon before it will be possible, but I’m not as hyper as some of my other family members. I learned at a very young age that keeping an even keel allowed me to stay off my father’snaughty list and off his radar when he’s in one of his ‘moods’. It’s effective everywhere else in life as well, and that’s one of the few inadvertent lessons the jackass has taught me.
“Scan your card, please.”
I blink, coming back to reality as the student working there speaks. When I focus on her, something prickles the edge of my consciousness. Her appearance is normal for someone working in a library—as far as I’ve experienced—and she looks older, so she’s likely not a work-study student. Her black horn-rimmed glasses are cat-eye shaped and the small cardigan she’s wearing has cherries stitched on it. They match her red lipstick and paired with the rest of the look; it makes me feel like I’ve been transported back to the milkshakes and car fin era. “Oh, sorry.”
Her expression pinches as I do what she asks, then her gaze darts around the room after my account pops up. “Good afternoon, Prince Spéirgheal. Items from the section you chose books in can only remain out for a week. Any late fees will be charged to your student account directly and by signing the pin pad, you accept responsibility for loss, damage, or theft. Is that okay?”
Damn. Even checking out a library book is full of terms and conditions now.
“That’s fine, ma’am.” I smile, hoping the friendly acceptance will defrost her. I don’t want to make an enemy of someone working in a place I may frequent for both school and our outside projects. “I promise to take excellent care of these volumes. A ruined book is a terrible tragedy.”
“Mmm,” she replies as she finishes the process on her computer. “As much as I agree, I’m uncertain those you choose to keepcompany with have such lofty ideals. However, I look forward to being proven wrong, despite how unlikely it may be.”
Now I definitely think something is off—while lots of people give Morgana shit and might even give the cub crap, random people donotgive me shit. Even if Kas isn’t here, once they know who I am, everyone acts one of three ways: flirty, fearful, or fake nice. Animosity isn’t normal unless I run into someone from a Fae court fighting with ours. I frown as I look at the woman, trying to suss out what species she is. Her shields are good, but she’s not powerful or old enough to keep me in the dark for long.
A fact that she must not realize despite knowing my identity—which means she’s not as smart as I assumed initially.
“Is there a reason you’re standing here staring at me?”
Again, I have to control my face and emotions to prevent them from showing. Rudeness this aggressive is very much out of the norm, and I have to find out why the hell it’s happening. “I was wondering how long you’ve worked at State U? It’s such a lovely campus, and I’m surprised to find out how many staff members have been here for lengthy careers.”
Her expression is annoyed as she turns to grab a stack of books off the counter to the right of her. She scans them, not looking at me as she replies, “I’ve been working in the library system here since the 20s.”
That’s a pretty vague answer given the lifespan of many species, and I force another smile so she doesn’t know how irritated I am by her avoidance. “Well, that doesn’t tell me much, but I appreciate you pretending to answer. I’ll be on my way, Ms…?”
“Adelinora,” the woman says brusquely as she continues scanning the books. “And do as you wish, Prince, but do notdiscount the signs when they come to you. Happiness and fear can blind beings so thoroughly that they miss even the biggest signs flashing along the route.”
Okay, now I’m super weirded out; this chick is here for a reason.
“Wise counsel. I will keep it in mind.” I wait for her to get absorbed in the books again, having a gut instinct scream at me internally about turning my back on this… whatever she is. Not human, that’s for certain, but otherwise? I have no idea. That doesn’t happen often, but maybe she didn’t mean the 1920s; maybe she meant as far back as the 1620s.
She could be a Salem witch; they were often powerful enough, even in their descendant lines, to withstand some Fae magic. Of course, other than that, there’s a host of shit she could be, including various forms of hybrids. Adelinora is not Fae, not human, and definitely not a demon. That’s what I have right now, and I’m going to need to ask Kaspar to do reconnaissance on her. Maybe Morgana will have files in the university database as well? I can ask her and Channing to check. Worst-case scenario, we’ll set Thorn’s hacker on it, but I don’t know if it will need to get that far.
After all, she could just be an introverted, socially awkward academic and I’m so damn paranoid that it seems like everyone is wearing a tinfoil hat.
attack
MORGANA
After Phaedra kicked me out, I walked around, window shopping along the main drag for a few minutes to make mental notes about what shops I’d like to visit later. There’s a lot of interesting stuff, and my mother would love it. This is her kind of mini-village, and I frown as I think about how long it’s been since I talked to her or my father. I’ve been purposely keeping them away from my infamy so they can enjoy their retirement unencumbered by the press or hecklers.
Maybe it’s been long enough that I can reach out?
No, with the scandal around Lucas, the murder, and now this conspiracy shit, I don’t want them involved. Even if they would be delighted to hear I’ve been ensnared in fated mate bonds, there’s just too much danger and publicity surrounding my life to drag them down. Maybe I’ll just throw some things together and send a package to their new home in supe retirement land. If I’m careful about how it’s labeled and delivered, I might get it to them with instructions as to why they shouldn’t try less old school methods until this stuff is settled.
Putting that aside, I walk back toward the coffeehouse with a small smile on my face. I’m old enough to still enjoy a good pen, fancy stationery, and the personal touch of packing a box for someone rather than just sending it via Amazon. I think the guys might enjoy helping, especially Liam. He definitely likes the less modern stuff, and I bet this idea is right up his alley. The smile gets bigger until I suddenly stop when it hits me that I’m integrating them into what passes for my family. Lucas has shown an interest in telling his Nana, but we vetoed it in favor of keeping the news of our status under wraps.
Will they view this little project as risky? Worse, will they not want me to share it outside of our little clutch?
