I glance at Freddy. “Please go around the block, find an inconspicuous car to hotwire, and meet us at the corner.” I assume all of our rental vehicles were destroyed.
“Yes, sir.” Freddy turns, and I notice his ass is showing through his pants. The fabric is singed in a perfect circle. The back of his shirt is charred, too.
Freddy was up on the roof of the library as my lookout. He must’ve taken quite the ride when the bomb went off.
“After that, we will find you new clothes,” I add.
“Very good, sir.” Freddy zips off, and I turn toward my librarian, whose tiny pink lips are mashed together.
“So that’s it? You’re just,” she throws her hands to her sides, “leaving? You don’t even want to see Stella?”
“My apologies, but I have—”
“She could be in danger, Michael! Whoever blew up my library might be after her, too. You know you have enemies, and they see us as nice juicy pawns.”
Yes, which is why the child and the librarian have had around-the-clock security since I left them here in Phoenix. I cannot have my enemies snatching one of them up and distracting me from my very important work. Of course, my librarian is unaware I have taken these measures, but why would I bother to tell her? I am king. This is not a democracy. I do what I must, and asking permission is not on that list of musts.
“I am aware of the threat, librarian, which is why we will go retrieve the child now,” I say.
“Oh.” The librarian blinks her brown eyes at me. “So the three of us are going to get Stella?”
I nod.
“Then what?” she asks.
So many questions. When will she learn that this is not my first hoedown? Showdown? Whatever. “Then I will tell you the rest of my plan. Let us go. I believe I hear Freddy approaching.”
We exit the garage, and a tiny blue car screeches up to the corner.
No. No. Noooo… Not again. There is an entire city filled with cars to steal, and he chooses this one?
Freddy’s large frame is crammed into the driver’s seat, and he’s hunched over the steering wheel. It pains me to think that is how I looked driving this car.
He lowers the window. “How’s this, sir?”
I snarl at him and am about to shove the blue weenie wagon up his ass when sirens approach and two squad cars fly by. There will be many questions by many officials about the explosion, and we cannot afford to get held up. We have bigger fish—we have more important things to do.
“Hey, it’s just like the one you used to drive,” says the librarian.
“Yes,” I growl. “I am aware. Get in.” We will have to find another ride later. At present, we must retrieve the child and get her and the librarian to a safe place.
CHAPTER SIX
Miriam
I know Michael isn’t telling me everything, which really ticks me off. Not more than his nonchalant attitude, though. He’s so calm and cool. So annoying!
Meanwhile, it’s taking everything I have to not get hysterical. Honestly, if it weren’t for the training my parents gave me—stay in character, stay in character—I would be crying and yelling at the top of my lungs. My mind can’t stop replaying the image of my precious books being blown to shreds, and my heart can’t stop screaming about the fact that Stella could have been there with me. She’s been going to the library with me every single day for weeks, helping to pick out books for story time, playing with the interactive reading games, and pushing the huge cart for me. She’s strong for a five-year-old. Had she been with me today, I don’t know what would have hap—
Wait. I’m assuming that it was a coincidence. What if the fact she wasn’t there isn’t random? What if Nice waited until he had a clean shot at both Michael and me? Honestly, the entire time I was with Nice, he always threatened to hurt Stella if I didn’t do as I was told, but looking back, he never actually harmed a hair on her head. In fact, he made sure she had a nanny who could protect her. No, I won’t ever forgive him, and I hated those nannies, but facts are facts. He never hurt her.
So if he was behind this, then what would have been my daughter’s fate once we were dead?
At this early stage of sleuthing, I can’t disregard anything until I’ve, well, disregarded it.
I tuck away that little tidbit for later. Right now, I have bigger fish to fry, such as coming up with a possible list of locations where Nice could be hiding with Lula. I know Mike is holding out, and I need him to trust me so he’ll dish.
Luckily for me, winning trust is right up my ally. I am a librarian, after all. And if there’s one thing we’re known for, it’s trust. People trust us to tell them which books to read when they want to fix their lives, be swept away in the best fantasy ever, do their taxes, raise their kids to be geniuses, or learn a new language—even the language of love. Books are information, and information is power. That pretty much makes us the keepers of the universe, so in my book—pun intended—that makes librarians as close to godliness as any human being can ever get. Or vampire can get.
I slide into the backseat of the blue mousetrap that Michael seems to detest. Honestly, I don’t know what he has against small cars. Yeah, I get that men see their vehicles as an extension of their penises, but Mike was born before they even had cars. Shouldn’t his hang-up be on swords? Or horses? Carriage size?
I realize we are driving, but I haven’t given
