A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

“Don’t.” Claire cut Hero off. “We will discuss your future—at length—when we get back to the Library. But for that to happen, we must get out of here. I do have a way you can help redeem yourself. Call it an act of goodwill.”

“How fortuitous for me.” Hero narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel I am not going to like this?”

Claire merely smiled and gestured them both toward the table. “We need a distraction.”

WHEN CLAIRE EMERGED FROM the kitchen into the study a short time later, Andras was lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee and already deep in discussion with Beatrice. He rose when he spotted her entrance, and gripped her shoulders tight in a hug. “I’m sorry, pup. I tried.”

His hands lingered on the tension in her shoulders. It was supposed to be a comfortable squeeze, but felt more like a measuring of meat.

Claire ignored the quiet alarm in her gut. “The angels are already here?”

Andras ghosted a nod. “Roosting like vultures on the outskirts. They aren’t in yet, but it’s only a matter of time—an hour, if we’re lucky.”

“Hell,” Hero muttered as he and Leto emerged from the kitchen behind Claire.

“Heaven, if we’re being precise.”

“They’re watching the main gates, but I was discussing our options with Beatrice just now. There’s a road that leads out to the farmlands. Only used by the residents. The bridge looks unguarded. I don’t think they know about it,” Andras said.

“The Hellhounds will smell us the minute Leto and I step outside the wards. How far is this entrance to the nearest realm gate?” Claire shot a sharp look to Beatrice. “There is a gate to an afterworld here, yes? Malta has too much history to be barren.”

“There is… of a sort.” Beatrice’s stiff frown fell into uncertainty. “It’s not active, as far as I know. There are some ruins connected to the catacombs—old, very old. There’s a gate there, but I don’t know what it connects to. Could be a dead realm. A lot of beliefs have lived and died here.”

“It will get us out of Earth, which gets us away from the Hellhounds. At this point, I’ll barter passage with the tooth fairy if I have to.”

“The tooth fairy is real?” Leto asked.

Andras’s grin was malicious. “Not the sort you’re thinking, child.”

Claire ignored them both as she considered, rapping her fingers on her crossed arms. “How far from the gates?”

“On foot, at a dead run?” Beatrice sounded doubtful. “It’s close. You could make it in a couple minutes.”

“There’s no outrunning Hellhounds, pup. You step outside the ward, they will be on you.” Andras’s gold eyes softened. “Perhaps you should consider your hero’s offer and stay here.”

Claire raised a brow. “The demon wants me to abandon Hell?”

“The demon doesn’t want to witness his dear friend’s demise. Or that of her stray.” Andras nodded to Leto. “You’ve been through enough. You could stay safe here, just for a while. I can think of something to tell the royal cuss when I get back. Maybe even get him to call off the Hounds.”

A sour huff escaped Claire’s lips. “Even you don’t lie that well, Andras.”

“I’ve accomplished more in my time.” Andras pressed a hand to his lips. “Please. Stay here. Live a long, ridiculously human life. Several lifetimes. Read books, feel the sun, get happy and fat. You’ve done your time; your soul deserves it. Give this pretty idiot a chance to redeem herself.”

Claire shook her head. “There’s too much at stake right now.”

Andras’s eyes strayed to Claire’s pockets. “Send the codex with me. I will take care of it.”

It was tempting, even now, even with Claire knowing what she knew. Perhaps Andras saw that. He saw the way Beatrice had created a home—their home—the one that they’d imagined. There, by the window, where Claire could read within a pillar of sunlight. There, an alcove where her typewriter could go—maybe even the modern equivalent—and she could finally try to write all those stories that had festered and burned cinders into her brain. The quiet streets, the charming locals, the distant sea. The coats by the door, perfectly matched.

Of course it was tempting; fantasy always was. It was terrible and it was beautiful and it was . Claire’s chest felt tight, possible futures clenched in a trembling breath. If she risked looking to Beatrice now, it would be all over. “You’ve been a mentor and a good friend, Andras. Always looking out for my best interests. But you taught me to be a better librarian than that—don’t insult me by asking me to give up my duties now.”

Andras’s smile was strained; a shadow passed over his eyes. “Forgive me, Librarian.”

Librarian, not pup . Claire inclined her head, and turned to find Leto looking at her with sad eyes.

“I’m staying,” he said.

Claire swallowed, still shaken. “That’s not unexpected.”

“I can’t leave, ma’am. I won’t die again.” Leto’s voice sounded flat. “And even if I don’t—I don’t want to be a demon anymore. I’m human here.”

Claire dropped her gaze. She understood; of course she did. And the understanding built to a weight in her chest. She squeezed Leto’s shoulder once, and then there was no more putting it off. She turned to find Beatrice watching her. “You will help him?”

“He can stay as long as he wants. Just as you could.” A quiet had overcome her. It was ridiculous how quickly it came back to Claire, how easily she read Beatrice’s moods. She knew every tell, the way the soft skin at her temple twitched when she was carrying an injury.

The air was dry; that had to be why it hurt when Claire took a breath. “You know I can’t.”

“I know, and I know you.” She made an aborted gesture with her hand, as if she’d reach for Claire but wasn’t certain if she was allowed to. Beatrice’s dark, serious gaze never left Claire’s face. “I’ll always be here. If you ever lose your way again.”

Claire refused the heat at her eyes. No use allowing such a thing now. “I’m never lost.”

Beatrice’s mouth broke into a glittering, sad kind of smile. “That is true.” She sighed. “And I know people in town who can set Leto up with whatever he needs.”

Claire swallowed and forced her chin up and down in a nod, and nothing more. “Thank you.” She glanced back to Leto. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Leto’s tone wasn’t at all believable.

“You can do this.” She gave him one fierce hug, patting down the disarray in his bushy hair, straightening his collar. Then, and only then, she turned to Andras. “You know where this gate is?”

“I do.”

“And you’re certain it’s clear?”

Andras nodded, eyes sad.

Claire drew a quick breath. “All right. Then let’s run for it.”

THE SILENT CITY EARNED its name when dusk fell. As tourists fled on taxis and buses, the city eased into a domestic quiet. The sun sank below the tall stone walls, painting the streets in lavenders and grays. The streets were nearly empty as Claire, Hero, and Andras made their way quickly through them.

Beatrice had wanted to guide them herself, but Claire insisted she stay with Leto. The angels were still trying to get in, and if they made their way to the flat, they would discover Leto. From what she’d seen, she wouldn’t count on the serenity of Heaven keeping the peace.

Claire was counting on Heaven’s wrath instead. She flicked an irritated glance at Hero. Somehow, he’d found the time to wash up at Beatrice’s, and his nails looked freshly manicured, hands soft. He also had his gun out already, which was an added source of Claire’s annoyance.