Page 1 of Killian
Prologue
The Library
Alexander Ash
Alexander Ash looked at the depth chart, then the pictures, and then returned to the tide schedule. He paused to carefully move the chart from where it had flopped over the framed photograph on the desk. Twelve-year-old Pellos grinned impudently from the picture, and thirty years later, it still made Alex smile. But tonight, he was focusing on the photos taped to his office wall.
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. The outline of theStrumwolkewas still a dark hulk in the underwater photos. None of the answers had changed. And they wouldn’t change on any of his subsequent examinations of the charts and images. The sun was setting outside the window, and he could hear the tide crashing against the break wall of the villa. He knew he ought to go join the others, but instead, he checked the photos, charts and tides one more time. Alex knew he was obsessing, but it had been seventy years of hunting for the Nazi ship that had killed so many Supernaturals. The Allied team had attacked a German S-boat bound for the coast of France. No one knew what had happened after that, but the subsequent explosion had stripped Greece of magic and killed over a thousand Supernaturals, including his brother Howell Ash’s team. Alex wanted answers. Heneededanswers to prove that Howell and his team weren’t responsible. And now, with the new information sent by Hudson from Germany, theStrumwolke—and the answers Alex needed—were nearly within his grasp. Or, at least, he knew where under the waves they lay.
Alex checked his phone. No new messages. He had sent Luca,the pack’s resident magic expert, to Syria to purchase an artifact that might have been connected to Howell and theStrumwolke.Luca should have sent a report back by now, but the phone remained stubbornly dark. Hudson was still in Germany at the Arolsen Archives and hadn’t yet responded to the underwater photos of the ship. Which was odd. Hudson had been practically jumping through the phone earlier, but it had been nearly twenty-four hours without a message. Alex disliked having his pack members too far away, and the lack of communication made him jumpy. Not that Luca was an official pack member—more of an associate—but Alex still felt responsible for him. And that left Sebastian, Killian, and Pellos to make plans for the dive and keep the shipping business running while Alex focused on theStrumwolke.
Alex felt a supreme sense of relief at having Pellos take charge of the shipping business. Pellos had been with Alex since Pellos was an orphan child picking pockets on the streets of Athens. Alex had watched Pellos grow and change at a speed that broke his heart even while it made him proud. Alex resented the human rate of aging. He wanted Pellos to be like the rest of the pack. But nothing he’d found had ever given instructions on changing human pack members to werewolves. Wolves were historically useless at record-keeping. All the wolf writings Alex and Hudson had found were brief and simply said something along the lines ofdid the spell, turned my human, so happy and proud, the end.But he and Hudson had found a potential solution for that too. One they would hopefully be able to work on after completing theStrumwolkemission.
Alex flipped open his email tab. Nothing new there, either. Reluctantly, he shut the cover on his laptop and stood up. He fiddled with the lapis worry beads in his pocket, trying to soothe himself. His thumb ran over the smooth scarab amulet—a last gift from Howell—at the center of the beads. It was a physicalsymbol of the mysteries they faced.
Everything was falling into place. The nervous flutter in his chest was hope. Or possibly terror. Or possibly both. But the pack was so close to getting everything they needed that Alex wasn’t sure if there was a difference.
He had never expected to have a pack of his own. Being rejected from his birthpack after Howell’s death still burned. Each of his packmates had faced a similar rejection or loss, and he had tried his best to give them a home. He could never have made it this far without them, but their presence meant that if he failed, his failure would taint all of them. No pack would ever welcome them. For their sake, Alexhadto succeed.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Alex heard Killian’s muttered swears and hurried footfalls on the old wooden floors of the villa.
“Uh…” said Killian appearing in the doorway of the office. He shifted from bare foot to bare foot. His phone was clutched in his hand, but he was wearing only his faded blue swim trunks, his russet skin contrasting sharply with the pale fabric.
“Have you heard from Hudson?” Killian asked.
“Not since yesterday,” said Alex, fighting the sudden tension in his chest.
“I just tried to call him. It went straight to voicemail.” The implied question of Hudson’s safety hung in the air unuttered.
Alex closed his eyes and concentrated on the various pin-points of light in his head that represented his pack. Hudson was still in Germany, a blueish-white dot that pulsed in a joyful beat. Whatever Hudson was doing, he was happy about it.
“He’s fine,” said Alex, opening his eyes. “Why?”
Killian jerked his head and moved back down the hall. Alex followed him to the library that was usually Hudson’s domain and a maze of books, swords, and periodically an out-of-place forge tool. Hudson had made an effort to tidy up before he leftfor Germany. The only thing left out was an odd contraption on the back table that looked like a cross between a child’s mobile and a miniature Zen garden. There was a central spire that rose about two feet up from a square box of sand, and wired to the column were three chunks of yellow sandstone that looked like maybe they had been part of bricks at some point.
“Hudson said I was to check on it every day and call him immediately if it didanything.This counts as anything, right?”
The three fist-sized chunks of masonry were floating off the sand, straining against the copper wires that kept them tethered.
“Yes,” said Alex, “you could say that.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Hudson. As it had for Killian, the call went straight to voicemail.
Alex’s heart was beating faster now. This was not part of the plan. He wanted this, but could he really fracture the pack even further? They weren’t one of the big packs with twenty or thirty people. It was just the five of them, and he wanted them all back—not out on missions. He couldn’t afford to lose even one of them. Why was this happening now?
“Do you know what it is?” asked Killian.
“It’s a bibliothaum. It’s intended to alert us to the presence of the library.”
“It’s in a library,” said Killian reasonably.
“The Library of Alexandria,” said Alex.
“Um… I may not be the biggest history buff in the world,” said Killian. “But isn’t that the library in Egypt that burned down back in Roman times?”
“Portions of it,” said Alex. “Which was the last straw for the Fae running it. After that, they removed it from our realm. Hudson thinks, as do I, that when the remaining Fae disappeared, they moved all of the historical documents they’d been holding for other races—including the wolves—into the library. But the doors only reappear every twenty-one years.”
Killian laughed. “Of course Hudson wants to go there. It must be his idea of heaven. How long do the doors stay open?”
