Libraries weren’t usually a place I hung out. Reading took too long. I mean, all those words. Ugh. All that effort felt like being in school again. When it came to literary bestsellers, I preferred to watch the television or big-screen adaptations.

Still, though, I doubted they’d make a story in the next hour that would explain what had happened in my town. I had questions about the Peabodys, their house, even the recent witch murders.

By now, I’d heard the word demon bandied about more than a few times. Demons, plus possessions.

You know what that means?

At last, the apocalypse had arrived. Shit was going to hit the fan.

Unless someone stopped it.

Someone like me.

Don’t laugh. I could totally be heroine material—the brave, not the highly-addictive-injected-in-your-veins kind. I didn’t fear facing danger. I’d been doing my Kegels religiously to hold on to that bladder if ever faced with pure evil.

I would fight. And, hopefully, not die.

Since staying alive seemed like a really good plan, I thought it prudent to brush up on my demon lore—what they ate, were they hung like a horse or bigger, did they cooperate or submit, and could you decapitate them? Always good to know if it was worth the effort.

Since I didn’t personally know any demons to ask my questions, I had to resort to a backup plan. What better place to find knowledge than the Internet—which I didn’t currently have access to at my house, unless my phone counted. And let’s be honest, major research on a teeny-tiny screen wasn’t my idea of being a good sleuth. Add in the fact that my data package for my phone sucked, and I preferred to use a free Wi-Fi service.

While at the library, maybe I’d check into some books. Paper ones. Argh. Much as it pained me, the Internet only provided so much. I couldn’t find any good stuff on the subject of demons that didn’t involve a video game. None of my searches bore fruit either—Search for demons eating faces? No, how about, I’ve been possessed.

“No, I do not require mental service help, thank you very much, you smartass piece of technology.” I glared at my phone.

It and the lovely world wide web had failed me.

I’d have to be intrepid and brave the paper cuts. In my new notepad—emblazoned with Hello Kitty—I’d take some stupendous notes of the things I discovered in dusty tomes made of skin written in a strange language that suddenly seemed so clear. Because of my mad research skills, I’d find the answers to fixing the apocalypse and save the day.

Not Scooby and his crew.

Me.

And to reward myself, I’d totally get a cat. A jab at my canine suitors, just like my shirt was a poke, considering it said, Rub me to make me purr.

No one had tried to yet, but the day was young. Sipping from my thermos where I’d smuggled in a mimosa, having drunk my limit of two at brunch, I spent a bit of time reading recent reports of the murders.

The human news didn’t make any mention of demons or witches. They stuck to the basic facts as they knew them. Psycho kills person, police are baffled.

I had to wonder at the Lycans’ and others’ reluctance to admit the truth. The world knew about werewolves and mermaids and ogres, so why the hesitation over vampires coming out and telling humanity about demons?

Then again, if people knew about vampires and the fact that they could live forever, who was to say it wouldn’t cause a frenzy? People were afraid of dying. I wouldn’t put it past them to tie down a few vampires and start trying to dole out immortality to the masses. Even I could see that wouldn’t end well.

As for demons, given the images I dug up from some ancient book—printed in the nineteen seventies in hardcover, not skin—I could see why no one wanted to believe they existed.

Demons were butt-ass ugly. As in even their mothers would never call them cute. Not even fugly.

The only attractive demon was probably a dead one that had been ashed into a pile of dust.

Despite the lack of actual pictures, the authors had nicely provided illustrations. Because art is sometimes subjective, they varied in depiction, some of the demons being shown as tall and wide, but there were short and skinny ones, too. Gnarly and knobby, smooth-skinned, and scaled. Some had tails or horns or both. Cloven hooves and claws. Their color differed, too, but they all had one thing in common.

According to all the books I read—You want to know how many books that is?

Technically one.

Blink.

Fine, maybe it was more like one that I skimmed for the main bits.

Blink. Stop staring. Sigh. Fine. I looked at the pictures.

The pictures were pretty graphic. Ugly. And violent. Demons killed.

They also liked eating flesh.

According to just about every religion—and movie once again, plus some boys named Winchester—they were pure evil. As in I wouldn’t-want-to-meet-one-in-an-alley evil.

Shudder. Not one of fear but anticipation.

“Cold?” The query jolted me, but in a nice way, right between the thighs.

I know that voice. Had to love a voice that could caress your girl parts and make them all tingly.

I craned to peek over my shoulder and smiled at the good-looking man behind me. “Hello, Shaggy.” I didn’t hide the pleasure in my tone. Why would I when Sebastian looked as yummy as I recalled with his long hair held back, his green eyes dancing, and his lips curved in a smile?

A naughty smile. A smile that promised he’d do bad things—and that I’d enjoy them.

My va-jay-jay very much enjoyed that grin and thought I should drop my pants to smile back.

“Hey, baby, imagine meeting you in a place like this.”

“Are you implying I can’t read?” I tossed my hair. It was an adorable look. I knew because I’d practiced it in the mirror. It worked to perfection.

Sebastian looked horrified and hastened to explain. “Of course I think you can read. I’ll bet you read tons.”

“Then what were you implying, Shaggy?” I batted my lashes at him, innocent with a good dose of fuck-me-now. I didn’t use this one often. I’d been saving it for a special occasion.

Sebastian’s eyes glowed for a moment, a hint of wildness in their depths. Then his expression turned from jocular to stone cold.

“What I was trying to say is it’s Sunday. I’d expect you anyplace but a library. Say, at home, maybe glossing your lips. Shaving the bush. Making dinner for a guy and changing the sheets. You know, the usual girl things.”

The words held a hint of bitterness, and my mouth rounded. “I don’t believe they told you I made out with them.” Then again, was I really surprised? Boys loved to brag.

“It might have come up,” he said as he took the seat beside me.

“Are you jealous?” I leaned forward and put my hand on his knee.

He stiffened body-wise, but I couldn’t tell if anything else did. Would he slap my hand away if I touched to see?

“Jealous of what? I heard you called their attempts at seduction nice.” He smirked. “I guarantee that wouldn’t happen with me.”

“Are you daring me to kiss you?” As if I needed a challenge. Part of me wagged a mental finger and told me to stop. Playing with these three friends could drive a wedge. Did I want to cause trouble?

Well, yes, yes I did. And it would only be a problem if they insisted I choose one, and after last night’s dream, I had a different idea in mind.

But could I convince them of it?

Here I was, getting ahead of myself. Planning a future with three guys when I’d yet to figure out if they’d like me past one date.

“I would never dare you to kiss me,” Sebastian said, his hand atop mine on his leg, warm, heavy, and full of promise. “However, if you wanted to, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Naughty, Shaggy.” Because, really, if I were Daphne, he was certainly the free-wheeling guy in this scenario. “I am supposed to be working.”

“I know. I was watching you.”

“You were?” I couldn’t hide the surprised lilt. “Why did you wait so long before coming over to say hi?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to. And then there was Dale—”

“Hold on a second.” I narrowed my gaze. “Did Dale tell you to come babysit me?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If I say yes, does that mean you won’t kiss me?”

Tossing my hair, I sniffed. “Who says I want to kiss you?”

“Your wet panties.”

Damn these wolfmen and their keen sense of smell. “Maybe I just peed myself.”

His lips twitched. “I can tell the difference, baby.”

“Good for you. Despite my minor attraction to you, now is not the time,” I said primly. Which surprised me. I didn’t think I had any kind of prim and proper left in me. “We are in a library, and I’m busy.” I also wished I’d worn some fake glasses and put my hair in a bun. I would wager Sebastian would have enjoyed the librarian look.

“I can see you’re busy. All that research. That effort. You should take a break.”

“No rest for the wicked.” I might have licked my lips when I said it.

His nostrils flared. A beast barely held in check.

He tugged my hand higher up his thigh. Brazen, but exciting. His leg felt firm under my palm, the muscle in it thick and strong.

He murmured, “Have you found anything?”

Not yet, but if my hand kept moving, I’d bet it would find something erect.

Tempting. I did want to touch and see. But I shouldn’t let him distract me. Things were rather complicated, and I had to tread carefully.

I snatched my hand away. “I haven’t found anything interesting yet. Total bummer since I’ve been looking hard.”

“And I’m feeling hard,” was his wicked reply.

I turned to face him. “Are you going to keep making dirty jokes until I kiss you?”

“Probably.”

“Won’t Dale and Mike be pissed?”

He shrugged. “Let them. We had a pact to leave you alone. They broke it first.”

“So is this a tit-for-tat thing?”

He leaned forward. “No, it’s an I like you kind of thing. I liked you that first time we met.”

“Yet you never called me after.”

“Because I was told you were off-limits. Now, though, all bets are off. Give me a chance.”

A chance to one-up his friends? A chance to make me come? A chance for me to find out if I preferred one over the others?

I asked him to, “Close your eyes.”

He did, and I leaned forward, pressing my mouth lightly to his.

No surprise, I felt the same tingle as I had with the other guys. The same burgeoning hunger and need.

My mouth slanted over Sebastian’s, taking it more fully, sucking on his lower lip, feeling him respond.

The simple kiss turned into something with more panting and tongue. We ended up pressed tightly together, our lips meshed, his hands roaming, tugging me onto his lap.

Lucky me, I wore a skirt today, so when I straddled him, the core of me pressed against his jeans, a delightful friction.

Our spot in the back of the library gave us some privacy.

Some.

Yet even the thought of discovery couldn’t cool my ardor. Rather, knowing someone could come across us added an element of…more. An erotic element.

His hands slid under my skirt to cup my ass cheeks. Our mouths were firmly meshed, and I moaned against his lips as he rocked me against the bulge in his pants.

I made a sound of disappointment when he manhandled me back into my seat.

“Don’t worry, baby, we’re not done.” He winked before disappearing under the table.

His hands parted my knees, and his warm breath tickled the inside of my thighs. Surely, he wouldn’t. Not here. Not…

“Oh.” I couldn’t help but exhale, and he whispered, “Shh,” the sound vibrating against the moist crotch of my panties.

His mouth covered me again, teasing me with the fabric in the way, the heat of him making me squirm.

I bit my knuckle rather than cry out when he moved that scrap of fabric aside, baring me to the hot lash of his tongue.

Searing me with the heat of his mouth as he sucked my tender lips.

I trembled when he flicked my clit, the bud engorged and ready for more oral teasing.

He worked me with his tongue and lips, drawing jolts of pleasure, building up my excitement.

I leaned back in my seat, lost in the moment, so close to coming.

A finger slid into me, then another, while his tongue continued to lash my clit. My hips thrust against him, pushing his fingers deeper, my pleasure close to bursting.

He bit down on my swollen nub and sent me over the edge, the waves of my climax squeezing his fingers tights, the bliss of it rolling through me hard enough that my head fell back, my eyes closed, and I might have uttered a not so discreet, “Oh my God.”

Someone took exception.