Page 12
He takes it all in. And then his blue eyes meet mine. “Working on a research paper?”
“Yes,” I say automatically. “Yes, I am.” I slam the book in my hands closed. “Just doing some poking around.”
He steps closer to me and reaches for the book on the top of the stack. Folklore: The Monstrous Side. “You have a fascination with the Yellow-Eyed Teufel, don't you?” He lifts one eyebrow, looks at me.
“I wouldn't really say a fascination. Just a curiosity.”
“Ah, yes. The stories really grab some folks, here and there. I understand. I have a curiosity myself. Just don’t let the curiosity turn to fear.”
“I’m not afraid.” The words come out much more harsh than I intend them. I was told to trust my human boyfriend, and look how that turned out. I have to trust my gut, and my gut is telling me not to be afraid of Fitz. “Could I ask you a question, Professor?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Where do you think they come from?”
He chuckles a bit. “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? A lot of people believe they’re some sort of leftovers from extinct species from long ago. Some think they’re evolutionary marvels. And in the case of the Yellow-Eyed Teufel, they think our part of the world is a hell mouth, that once upon a time, someone opened a gateway to the underworld and that these creatures snuck out. But since you seem to think they’re not demons, I’m guessing you won’t entertain that idea.”
“No, I won’t. I don’t believe they’re demons or scary monsters. Just… lost, maybe.”
He tips his head to the side. “That’s a romantic way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“Anyway,” I say, “I should probably get going.” I pick up my stack of books. I don't want to check them out. I don't want there to be any evidence that I was here today, that I was doing research on Fitz’s kind. I can't just run with them. They’ll set off the alarms.
So I start to stack them back onto the shelf.
“You seem to have some very definitive opinions.” Professor Watts steps a little closer, sets his hand on the shelf next to where I'm filing the books back into their places. “Have you seen him?”
Breathe, just breathe.
My eyes slide up to meet his. “Him?”
He nods. “Personally, I don’t think there’s a whole horde of them. I think there’s one that’s been wandering around our neck of the woods—pardon the pun—and that many people have caught glimpses of him. And I think you’ve caught a glimpse of him, too.”
I can feel the panic starting to rise up in me. I don't answer him.
After a long moment, Professor Watts' eyes scan the area behind me. He looks both ways, and then behind himself as well. Then he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a card and sets it on the shelf, flat under his palm.
“This woman, she's an old friend of mine. She might be able to help you with your research.” He removes his hand, and I look down at the card. It's black, with just a name and a number. Nothing else. I take it and slip it into my back pocket. I know how risky this is. It could be a trap. Professor Watts could be leading the charge.
But at this point, I don't know that we have any other options. We have to go.
“Thank you,” I tell him, backing away slowly. “I might not make it to class for a couple of days.”
He puts a hand up. “No worries at all.”
I'm almost at the end of the aisle when he says, “Oh. Wait.”
He reaches into the messenger bag slung over his chest and pulls out a very slim book. He holds it out to me, and I step closer to him to take it. Speaking the Language of the Monsters, it says.
A sigh puffs out of me. Is this what I think it is? What if I could talk to Fitz, actually talk to him? And where the hell did he get it? How would someone even begin to write it?
“Hide it,” he says, his voice low. “They don't want anyone to have them. Gives them too much proof.”
I have no idea who they are, but I do what he says. I unzip my jacket, shove the book in, and zip it back up. “Thank you, Professor Watts. Thank you. I have to go.” Quickly but carefully, I leave the library, holding the book close to my chest inside my jacket.
8
I have enough time between the bus stop and the motel to go through some of the phrases in the dictionary, to learn some that I think would be the most useful. I unlock the door to our room and shut it behind me. Fitz is sitting on the end of the bed, the TV remote in his hand, his eyes locked to the screen, where a talk show is playing.
