Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,41

shrug. “I didn’t think you’d believe me. Or, if you did believe me, you wouldn’t really comprehend the truth of the arcane and might put yourself in harm’s way by accident.”

Sebastian waved a dismissive hand. “No, I understand. The newest employee, babbling about ghostly whispers and books moving on their own, before his trial period is even up…I’m sure you were worried Mr. Quinn would fire you as a drunkard or a madman.”

It hadn’t even occurred to him, probably because he wasn’t going to be in the position much longer anyway. “Er, yes,” Ves said quickly. “That too. So I take it this sort of thing isn’t a common occurrence in the library?”

“Surprisingly enough, no.” Sebastian frowned thoughtfully. “From what you’re saying, it sounds as though the spirit, or whatever it is, has a grudge toward the Ladysmith’s bookbinder. Do you think it haunted Kelly as well? Or perhaps he was safe, since he’d signed the oath we found in the desk? I wonder if it could be some sort of guardian that thinks you’re an outsider meddling where he doesn’t belong?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” Ves stepped to one side as a young woman sped past them on a bicycle. “Would Mr. Quinn know?”

“I don’t think so,” Sebastian said. “I met with him this morning and told him about everything we found. He didn’t know about the pact or the blood signatures. I think he was a bit annoyed about that, to be honest. Though not half as annoyed as he’ll be when we tell him there’s some kind of malevolent force targeting you.”

A part of Ves wanted to laugh. He tried to imagine having this conversation with his supervisor at the Boston Public Library and failed utterly. “I’m not worried about myself. But what if it starts attacking other people?”

“Irene is a sorceress. Perhaps she’ll know how to stop it.”

Ves came to a halt. “A sorceress?” His mother had disdained clothing except as necessary for modesty and the elements, preferring to focus all her time and energy on knowledge and power. Irene, on the other hand, looked as though she’d stepped out of a fashion-plate in a Parisian magazine. It had never occurred to Ves that sorcery didn’t mean hiding in the woods in poverty.

“It’s not her main area of focus, but her family are all well-versed in the arcane,” Sebastian said reassuringly.

“Is everyone in this town something other than they seem to be?” Ves exclaimed. He’d come here thinking Widdershins wouldn’t be much different from Boston, only smaller.

His seatmate on the train had tried to warn him, but Ves had been so sure he knew what he was walking into. His mother had spoken derogatorily of everyone outside the cult, calling them sleepers who knew nothing about the real world, who moved through it in a false dream, refusing to open their eyes.

Shame washed through Ves at the realization he’d let that assumption creep into his own thinking. He’d been so certain only he knew the truth, that everyone around him was ignorant.

Sebastian offered him a warm smile. “I’m no more than what I seem,” he said. “Just a humble archivist, spending my days processing and cataloging material. So much cataloging.”

The sun glinted off his silver-rimmed glasses and brightened his hair. His smile was open, uncomplicated, and Ves had to struggle against the wild urge to kiss him.

“A humble archivist, who will stop at nothing to find out what happened to his friend,” Ves said. “I think you underestimate yourself, Mr. Rath.”

Sebastian’s lips parted slightly, as if in surprise. Then he hooked his arm through Ves’s, tugging him along. “As much as I love a compliment, standing here won’t bring us any closer to finding out what the devil is going on.”

Ves’s heart pounded at the arm so casually linked through his own. It was nothing, just a friendly touch, and yet it made him desperately crave more. If he had any sense at all, he’d use the first opportunity to slide his arm free. He couldn’t risk Sebastian touching his back; he had to keep distance between them.

Instead, he walked arm-in-arm with Sebastian in companionable silence the rest of the way.

Their destination lay within one of Widdershins’s more decrepit neighborhoods. The area stretched between the river and the docks, and had in the past been far grander than it was now. Once-proud roofs sagged, gardens had become thickets of weed and bramble, and paint peeled from the weathered walls. Though Sebastian had lived in Widdershins his

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