reserved for the voice behind him. Leto didn’t dare turn with something pressed against his spine, but the gaze told him enough.
“We have no business with you, Watcher,” Claire said.
Leto didn’t know what a Watcher was, but from the curl of Claire’s lip, it didn’t seem like a friendly thing. He’d never thought to ask what would happen to a soul that got stabbed while visiting Earth. In his human form, he doubted it was anything good.
“But I have business with you,” the voice grated. “Identify yourselves, or you will be short one demonic servant.”
“If you are as dull as you seem, it appears I must. You’re speaking to the head librarian of the Unwritten Wing. The boy you’re frightening is Leto, a human.” Claire held one hand clenched on her bag, as if shielding the trade tools within.
“I know a demon when I see one. And you—a librarian.” The man breathed the word like a curse, like he was admitting something. “Of course. Then I am just in time.” He let up the blade from Leto’s back, though Leto wasn’t sure whether it was from relenting or that he was now focused on another target.
Leto twisted as he backed up defensively. From the voice, he’d honestly expected something closer to Walter: looming and monstrous. But the man was not much taller than Leto himself, was thick shouldered and dark with strong features. Broad face, olive skin, and sharply angled brown eyes dark with threat. A strange trench coat hung to the ground, slate gray with an odd assortment of dark-colored feathers peeping out from under the epaulets and trailing down the back in a scattered pattern. A short sword clutched in one thick hand gleamed under the pier lights.
Leto risked a glance at the evening crowds on the patio not too far off, but the eyes of the diners seemed to slide right over them as they gazed across the pier. No one saw the madman with a sword. Or Watcher, as Claire had called him. Whatever the man was, Leto wanted to be far away from him.
Leto retreated, trying to move toward Claire, but the man flicked his gaze at him. “That’s far enough.” Dark eyes shifted back and the Watcher spoke low to Claire. “He would send you. I know what you’re here for. Hand over the book.”
The corners of Claire’s lips tugged into a mocking smile, but Leto was close enough to see the new tension tighten her eyes. “Why, Watcher, patron checkouts are not my department. But if you want something to read, you only had to stop by during library hours. What are you after, some bodice ripper to liven up your dull, immortal exile?”
The mockery slid off the Watcher’s stony face without effect. “You will have to try harder to enrage me, I’m afraid. Hand over the book.”
“Seeing as I have no idea what book you’re referring to, you’re going to have to be more specific.” Taunt failed, Claire reached for placating. “Honest, I really don’t know what you’re after.”
“Don’t waste my time. The book. You didn’t get all of it, did you?”
Leto’s mind conjured the hero’s unwritten book with fangs of jagged missing pages. Leto swallowed hard, and Claire turned guarded. “There might have been an accident. What concern would that be for a Watcher like you?”
The man’s hard lips took on a smug demeanor for the first time. The blade in his hand didn’t waver as he withdrew a small clear bag from his coat pocket. Inside fluttered a scrap of paper, a corner ripped from some larger piece. As his eyes landed on it, Leto thought he heard a faint hiss, quiet words he could almost make out.
“Because I got there first.” The man gave a hard smile.
The whispers swam Leto in vertigo. He shook his head to clear it. “Is the author okay?”
The Watcher paused. “What?”
“The—”
“Hush, Leto.” Claire cut him off. She frowned at the paper in the man’s grasp. “If those are the pages, that belongs to the Library, Watcher.”
The Watcher straightened his sword. “It belongs to Heaven, as everything does. Now, I will have the rest of the book from you.”
“I’m afraid you’re out of luck. It’s already been sent back to the Library. But if you want to come by during visitors’ hou—”
“Liar!” A voice like thunder sent the hairs on Leto’s neck on end. Claire flinched as if she’d been shocked. The Watcher had cleared the space in a moment and rested his sword at