Chapter Two
Selena Merlin yawned for the umpteenth time that morning, not even bothering to stifle the sound coming from her mouth. She adjusted her glasses and tried to focus on the screen in front of her. Normally, the Dewey Decimal System came naturally to her, but today, it just wasn’t making sense.
She supposed she deserved it, staying out all night like that, but how could she possibly resist the all-night Star Wars Marathon at the Odeon theater? Sure, she stumbled home at three a.m., but it was worth it. Besides, it wasn’t like working at the Lower Manhattan library was exciting. It was a boring, nine-to-five job, but at least she got to work in New York City.
Growing up in Philadelphia, all she wanted to do was escape her family. She loved her life there, but she couldn’t stand another minute of living with her stepmother and stepsisters. Her father Leonard had married another witch from the coven two years after her mother’s death. Jane wasn’t cruel to her, but she definitely favored her own daughters over Selena. Alexis and Katrina, on the other hand, tormented her every chance they got. After she graduated from college, she found a job at the New York Public Library and only went back home for visits, mostly so she could stop by her mother’s grave.
Unable to stay awake, she decided putting books back in the stacks might help. She stood up and smoothed down her pencil skirt and blouse, glad to finally be able to wear her spring clothes. She hated winter, mostly because bulky sweaters and coats did nothing for her figure. Being top-heavy, she looked frumpy when she added layers over her body. Now, she could get back to wearing her normal office clothes even outside and show off her curvy hourglass figure. Not that anyone looked at her. There were so many gorgeous girls in New York, all tall, stick thin, and beautiful. Who would notice a petite, curvy girl with unremarkable features (not to mention curly red hair that turned into a rat’s nest if she didn’t spend a shit ton of money on products) when there was always a buffet of models around? Still, it shouldn’t bother her. She should be used to being invisible by now.
Selena grabbed the rolling cart and pushed it down the aisle, stopping to place the books on their proper shelves as she moved along the rows. She emptied the cart until there was one book left. Ah, a biography of Winston Churchill. Of course, this one was all the way in the back. Just her luck, it was also on a high shelf.
She faced her enemy—the top shelf. Standing on her tiptoes, Selena held the thick book in her fingertips and then lifted it high, pushing it into the small space between the biographies of Chopin and Cicero.
The sound of someone clearing his throat surprised her, and the book slipped from her fingers, landing with a loud thud on the floor.
“Motherfucking shit. Who the fuck—” She stopped short when her eyes landed on the person at the end of the aisle. An involuntary gasp left her lips and warmth crept up her neck. Quinn stood there, casually leaning against the shelf, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. His black shirt stretched deliciously across his broad shoulders, and the smile he had on his handsome face sent her nerve endings stirring. God, he looked yummy today, and the temperature spiked a few degrees.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth, Butterfingers?”
Selena let out a puff of breath, blowing a stray strand of auburn curls away from her face. Right. There was no doubt Quinn was handsome as sin and sexy as hell, but the moment he opened his mouth, the only thing Selena wanted to do was smack him upside the head. For some reason, ever since they met, the Lycan had zeroed in on her and teased her mercilessly. Not that she couldn’t hold her own, but part of her was getting tired of always being on guard around him.
“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you didn’t creep around here like some … creeper.” She bent down and grabbed the book, but, suddenly, Quinn was right there next to her. He reached for the book, snatching it away.
“Here, let me get that,” he said in an annoyed voice.
“I can do it myself,” she huffed.
“Is that so, short stack?” Quinn looked at the book. “Is that why Mr. Churchill ended up on the ground?” He tsked and looked at the book sadly. “Not very dignified, right Winston? Why didn’t you get a ladder or something?”
“I was trying to save some time; this was the last book. What are you—” She held her breath when he stepped forward. She staggered back, and Quinn’s large body trapped her against the shelf behind her. The familiar scent of his aftershave wafted into her nose—freshly cut grass and sawdust. Her knees nearly buckled underneath her, but she steadied herself. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his body.
“See?” Quinn said, nodding up at the shelf. “You should try being taller, that will really save you time.”
Selena looked up at him, and he stared right back. The Nordic blue of his eyes seemed to bore right into her, and she swallowed a gulp. The last time they had been this close together, they were stuck inside a supply closet a few weeks ago. Those few minutes in close quarters seemed like hours, and she started to panic and hyperventilate. As she heaved and gasped, she felt a warm hand stroke her back soothingly, the touch sending tingles across her skin. She had been unnerved at the unfamiliar sensation, not to mention, something hard poking at her butt that she was pretty sure wasn’t a banana in his pocket. Her reaction was to immediately lash out at Quinn once they were out, something she still regretted.
“I’ll try it next time,” she retorted and then pushed him gently. Jeez, did he work out like, six times a day? His chest was solid, and the muscles underneath were like rock under her palms. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked.
Quinn stepped back and then flashed her another smile. “I just realized I don’t have a library card,” he explained. “I thought it was time I got one.”
She let out a laugh. “Aren’t real books too analog for you? I thought you spend all your time in front of a computer?”
“Hey, that hurts,” he replied, putting his hand over his heart. “Of course I read books. So, would you happen to know any librarians who can help me out?” He flashed her a lopsided smile.
“Fine,” she said wryly. “Follow me.”
She led him back to her desk and motioned for him to stand in front of the black paneling. “All right, I’ll go ahead and put in the Lone Wolf Security office as your address, but tell me your full name.”
“You know what it is,” he answered.
“Yes, I know your first name, but what’s your last name?”
“I don’t have one,” he said. “I’m a Lone Wolf, remember? No clan, no last name.”
“Well, I have to put something in,” she said in an exasperated voice.
“Put in whatever you want, babe,” he replied. “Whatever you think works, as long as I can get my card.”
Selena rolled her eyes and sighed, then typed in the first thing that popped into her mind. “All right then,” she said as she reached toward the printer and took out the card. “Here you go.” She handed it to him with a sweet smile.
Quinn took the card, and when his eyes scanned the front, he let out a chuckle. Selena frowned, not expecting his reaction. At the very least, she thought he would have had some snappy comeback.
“Quinn McFuckface?” He chuckled. “I walked into that one.” He tucked the card into his back pocket.
“I just hope your poor future wife won’t mind being called ‘Mrs. McFuckface,’” she retorted.
“No chance of that, seeing as I’m never getting married.”
Selena gave him a tight smile. She didn’t know why, but that admission sent a pang of disappointment through her. “Right,” she said as she stood up. “Now, if you’re done, I have to be getting back to work.” She motioned to the cart full of books next to her desk.
“Did you get any lunch yet?” he asked. “It must be your lunch break or something.”
“I came in a little late today,” she explained. “Slept in. So, I’m trying to make up for it.”
“Right, your hot date.”
“My what?” she said with a laugh.
“Evie said—I mean, she seemed disappointed when you couldn’t come for lunch,” Quinn replied. “She told me you were out on a date and didn’t come back until this morning. So, tell me, who’s the guy?”
“Harrison Ford,” she said quickly.
“Oh, is he—what?” He frowned. “Are you shitting me?”
“I was at the Star Wars marathon at the Odeon,” Selena explained. “They started late, but I couldn’t leave. They had actual film prints from the original trilogy, and I had to sit through those awful prequels just to see them.”
“I didn’t know you were a nerd,” Quinn moaned.
“Damn right,” she answered. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you around.” Selena turned to leave, but a hand on her arm stopped her. “What?” she asked, ignoring the tingles his touch sent over her skin.
“So, you haven’t eaten?”
“I told you, I don’t have time. I’ll grab a candy bar from the vending machine or something.” She frowned at his hand, which remained firmly around her arm.
“C’mon, you can’t survive on just a candy bar the whole day. I saw a hotdog cart on the corner; I’m sure you can spare fifteen minutes for a quick bite.” He flashed her another smile. “I’ll even buy you one.”
Selena hesitated for a moment. “Fine. But you don’t need to buy me a hotdog. This isn’t a date.”
“I didn’t say it was,” he retorted. “I don’t date unless the girl’s planning to put out.”
“Then we’re in agreement because I’m not putting out for you,” she shot back quickly.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go. I’m starving.”
***
They both got hot dogs and soda from the cart across the street, then made their way back to the steps outside the library. As promised, Selena paid for her meal, but also insisted paying for his. After a brief squabble, she handed the vendor a twenty and grabbed the food.
Why Selena said yes to Quinn, she wasn’t sure. Still, it was a nice day with spring finally arriving. The weather was warming up, and she didn’t even need to put on her light jacket to go outside.
“I didn’t know you worked at a library,” Quinn said after he finished his hot dog in two bites.
“I told you I worked near your office,” she replied. “It’s nice to see Evie during the day. She’s usually out at night, working at the diner or doing an open mic, and I don’t get to see her when I get home.”
“How did you become friends?”
Selena laughed. “She came to the library to check her email. Poor thing was new in town, and she didn’t have a computer or internet access so she could find out about casting calls. I knew New York was going to chew her up and spit her out if I didn’t take her under my wing. We became friends, and then she moved in with me to help with the rent. Eventually, she also figured out my background and confessed that her mother’s a Lycan.” She shrugged.
“So she found your stash of eye of newt lying around? Or your broom?”
“Ha! It was actually the dried lavender I have around the apartment. My mother always had it for protection. Anyway, it works out—I get to save money and she doesn’t have to bunk with six other girls in a fleabag hotel room in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“What about your coven? Aren’t you witches supposed to live together or something? Communal living and all that hippy dippy shit?”
“We don’t have to live together, but most of us do,” she said.
“So, like, what can you do? Do you control wind or thunder or something cool?” he asked.
“No,” she retorted. “Magic doesn’t work like that. For the most part, witches and warlocks have the ability to activate spells and potions. While anyone can mix ingredients or say a few magical words, only a witch can infuse magic into them. What you’re talking about is called ‘blessed magic,' which are active powers that only very few witches have.” Indeed, Selena herself only knew of two people who had active powers—Quinn’s brother-in-law Daric and her distant relative Lara Chatraine. “And like I told you when we first met, I’m an almost witch.”
“I still don’t know what it means.” He took a swig of his soda. “So, what the heck is an almost witch?”
“Well, my father is a warlock, and my mother was a witch. She was actually from the New York coven and distantly related to Charlotte Fontaine, who was kind of a big deal in our history. Anyway,” Selena continued, “they both had magic, and, usually, witches come into power right around puberty.”
“So?” Quinn looked at her quizzically.
“Well, I’m still waiting for my power to come in. I’m told it will. Eventually.”
“Oh, so you’re just a human now.”
Selena flinched visibly, and it probably would have hurt less if Quinn had physically struck her. Perhaps she’d been in denial all these years, but it helped ease the pain. She was born from two powerful bloodlines, yet here she was, showing no magical talent whatsoever. Selena the Dud. That was the cruel nickname her stepsisters, who were real witches, gave her. It followed her around most of her teen life, and she could remember nights when she cried herself to sleep, wishing—no, begging—to feel even a drop of magic within her.
Balling her hands into fists, she stood up. “I should go.” Without a backward glance, she walked away, the heels of her stilettos clicking on the pavement in military fashion.
“Hey!” Quinn called, but she ignored him. “Selena, stop!” He quickly caught up to her, and he grabbed her arm. “C’mon,” he said, his voice softening. “Did I say something wrong?”
Selena felt her chin tremble, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from spilling. “Let go of me, Quinn,” she managed to say in a shaky voice.
“Hey, hey now,” he soothed and attempted to place his hands on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you on your period or something? ‘Cause I know girls can be kinda emotional and bitchy when they’re on—”
“Shut up!” Selena yelled, wrenching away from him. Anger was bubbling in her now, and she just wanted to be alone. “I don’t know what you have against me, Quinn,” she began. “But I’m sick and tired of it! You … you just stay the hell away from now on!”