The Librarian from the Black Lagoon Page 4

  Tabitha grinned. “I think you’d look beautiful in pink, with your hair color.”

  “I’d rather not, thank you,” Joan said with another laugh.

  When Triani returned, Joan’s laugh faded away and anxiety slithered back into her belly. The tiny woman held a vial that had pink and green … something … rising from it. Smoke? Steam? Joan wasn’t sure.

  Slowly, she rose from her seat.

  “This will change your natural scent and you will be safe.” The witch smiled reassuringly. “It tastes a little like tennis shoes; sorry about that.”

  Yum. Tennis shoes, her favorite. As long as she didn’t smell like dirty tennis shoes when she was done. Or turn pink.

  She took the vial and everyone in the room watched her closely.

  She lifted it to her nose and sniffed. Surprised, she smelled morning dew and mountain streams, red roses and mint.

  “Drink it all at once,” Triani instructed.

  Joan nodded, gearing herself up for this. Deep breath in, and back out. Another. She lifted the vial and drank the entire thing — and then gagged. It might have smelled nice, but it tasted exactly like tennis shoes smelled. “Ack,” she choked, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

  Triani took the vial back. “Sorry. I keep trying to get it to taste better, but I just haven’t figured out a way to do it yet. It’s not a spell I practice often.”

  Joan felt really strange. She stood still, not sure what to expect, but something was definitely happening inside her. She could feel it almost on a cellular level. Warmth flowed through her body from her toes to the top of her head, then dissipated, leaving her feeling a bit chilled.

  “There,” Triani said and sniffed. “It worked. You’re safe.”

  Joan sniffed, but couldn’t smell anything but tennis shoes.

  Tabitha stood close and sniffed. “Wonderful.”

  Larry did the same. She looked at him for reassurance. He nodded. “The good news is that you definitely no longer smell like yourself.”

  She took another sniff, and got a whiff of something besides tennis shoes. Disbelieving, she said, “I smell like ripe bananas!”

  The others in the room smiled.

  Larry said, “You smell like banana bread, and that’s a really yummy smell.”

  Oh, great. If she wasn’t careful, she’d attract fruit flies.

  What Are the Odds of That?

  TWO HOURS LATER WHEN LARRY asked Joan if she’d like a tour of Moonchuckle Bay’s Town Square, she jumped at the chance. This town seemed delightful — and, as long as she avoided ponds and had Larry by her side, she felt safe.

  So he’d driven her to the Town Square parking lot. Across the street, several buildings were under construction. One of them was nearing completion, and when she saw the sign, she gasped.

  “What?” Before he even knew what she was reacting to, his instincts and training gave away his protective nature. He had already stepped between her and whatever danger might be behind her and was in a defensive stance.

  “Relax, Deputy Knight.” She touched his arm. “I just saw that they’re building a new library here.”

  He stood and shook out his hands, which he’d balled into fists. “They’re building several things next to the existing City Hall. The Council office building will be open next year — and the library will be open next month. They’re looking for employees, including librarians, just in case you decide you want to stay in town.”

  Was it her imagination or did he sound wistful when he said that?

  Yeah. Probably her imagination.

  But the comment did make her pause. The building itself was gorgeous. Though it was wasn’t quite complete, she could see that it was built in an ornate gothic style, so it looked right at home in this monster town. She smiled up at him. “Would I have to wear a themed uniform? Miss Mermaid Librarian or something like that?”

  “I’ll suggest it to them.”

  “Better get me an application and I’ll see what they’re paying.”

  Larry smiled down at her. “I heard it’s top dollar.”

  “Okay, so show me what this town has to offer someone considering a position in their new library.”

  He held out his elbow, and she took it. “Right this way, ma’am.”

  She leaned in close so the tourists around them couldn’t hear. “So how many of the businesses around the square are run by paranormal creatures?”

  He looked down at her, studying her, maybe wondering if he could trust her. Finally, he stopped walking. “I can name a few. First and foremost, of course, are the werewolves.”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “They would be the most important.”

  “Very perceptive of you, Ms. McCall. Across Dracula Drive, Elvis Smith runs Elvis Sightings.”

  “I take it Elvis Smith is a werewolf?”

  “Yes. Not only that, but he was one of the wolves who helped rescue you. He was the one who you thought looked like Elvis. He also happens to be the one and only, real Elvis Presley.”

  “Really?” she said, staring at the diner with interest. “So you can have an Elvis sighting right here in Moonchuckle Bay? Cool. Please tell me you can order Elvis food there.”

  “Yes, but forget I mentioned Elvis. Women don’t want to see Elvis Presley.”

  She laughed. “Of course not. Not at all.”

  “Next to City Hall is the Blue Moon Sports Bar, which has pretty good burgers. On the next street, Unicorn Trail, is Fangs, which sounds like a vampire place but is run by a couple of werebears, oddly enough.”

  She caught her breath. “Vampires are real?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sparkling, Anne Rice, or sexy?”

  He grimaced. “They think they’re sexy, but I don’t. They don’t sparkle and they’re much lighter than Anne Rice. Blood light, as it were.”

  She laughed. “Werebears? Like Care Bears?”

  He grinned. “Survival tip — don’t ever use that phrase around the MacGyver brothers.”

  “Gotcha. What else?”

  “The witches own Dorian Gray Photography, The Bubbling Cauldron restaurant, and the Witch’s Closet. The ghosts have Beans & Boos coffee shop. Vampires also run the local newspaper, Carpe Noctem News.” He chuckled. “They like getting a bite on the news, as it were.”

  “Any other creatures?”

  “Lots. But one in particular I want you to meet. Jingle Belle Noel is a snow pixie originally from Snowville close to the North Pole. Now she’s married to one of the other deputies.”

  “Is Santa real?” She could hear the wonder in her own voice and squealed in delight when he didn’t deny it. “Yes!”

  He smiled down at her, shaking his head but obviously finding her amusing.

  They walked across the grass, the temperature on this beautiful sunny July day a balmy eighty degrees. The sun was warming her back.

  Tourists flowed around them — couples with their arms around each other, families trailing little kids, old ladies with purple hats — and around the “monsters” that were supposedly part of the movie magic of this town, but which Joan was learning were actual paranormal creatures.

  “Are there other places like this town?”

  “There’s the Nightshade Casino in Las Vegas, some towns in Europe, and even a Transylvania Cruise Line.”

  “Wow.”

  He led her to a booth labeled Craved Ice. A beautiful woman with long hair stood inside, helping serve a line of five people.

  “Is this like snow cones?” she asked. “Shaved ice?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But very special ones.”

  “It looks like there are a lot of flavors, but it sounds like she’s telling them what flavor they want.”

  “Close. What flavor they need.”

  She crinkled her brow. “I don’t get it.”

  He leaned close again and whispered. “Jingle’s magic is snow magic. In her case, shaved snow magic. You can trust her to give you precisely what you need.�
��

  She caught a whiff of herself and frowned. “What I need is something to hide my banana smell.”

  When they reached the front of the line, Larry introduced them. “Jingle, this is my new friend Joan McCall, from St. George. She had a rough time yesterday and could use a pick-me-up. And I could use—”

  Jingle raised a hand. “You can use some help in the romance department, Deputy Knight.”

  Joan smiled at that. She wouldn’t mind helping the handsome deputy in that particular department, either.

  “And you, Ms. McCall.” Jingle studied her for a long moment, then smiled. “You can use some help processing new information.”

  “That’s for sure,” Joan said.

  “Give me just a moment and I’ll have just the thing for you.”

  Joan watched as Jingle expertly prepared the ice in two containers, then poured colored liquids over them. So far nothing was different — until each of the snow cones flashed light, almost like a flashbulb going off. One was red and the other purple.

  Jingle handed the purple one to Joan. “The Third Eye shaved ice has pomegranate, blackberries, and dark chocolate. Great for opening yourself to new things in life.”

  “Thank you,” Joan said, and tasted it. Her eyes flew open. “That’s delicious!”

  “Thanks,” Jingle said with a smile, then handed the red cone to Larry. “And the Sweetheart Special has flavors like pumpkin pie, black licorice, and dark chocolate.”

  He paid her and took the cone. “Thanks, Jingle.”

  “I’ll see you around, Larry. Don’t let the deputy lead you astray, Joan, and enjoy your visit in our town.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  They strolled down the square, and across there was an ornate building across the street. Apparently, the Woo-Woo Revue was playing the classic movie The Creature from the Black Lagoon. She stared at the marquee in disbelief. “What are the odds of that?”

  Larry followed her gaze and laughed. “It happens more often than you might imagine.”

  Larry leaned forward and sniffed her. “Well, I just learned something new.”

  “What?” She looked up into his eyes.

  He tucked a lock of errant hair behind her ear. “You smell different depending either on your mood or your temperature, not sure which yet.”

  She sniffed her wrist. “Now I smell like chocolate.”

  Larry leaned a little closer. “Yes, you do.”

  She sighed happily.

  He touched her arm and whispered, “Plus that means you’re still safe.”

  She caught his gaze again and leaned closer. “Thank you.”

  Too Bad There Wasn’t Really a Love Potion #9

  LARRY HAD SHOWN JOAN EVERYTHING that he loved about his town — or as much as you could show someone in a couple of hours. Town Square. Burgers at The Blue Moon Café. Pictures at Dorian Gray Photography.

  Now he was walking with her around the studio, because no tour of the town was complete without visiting Moonchuckle Bay Studios.

  Having Joan’s natural scent gone, not just hidden by the potion, was an interesting thing for Larry and his wolf. They couldn’t smell her anymore, so the mate urge eased — but because it was lessened, Larry was able to enjoy her company and feel the attraction between them without it being so overpowering.

  He liked how he felt around her.

  The smell of chocolate had faded, and now her skin was putting off the scent of lilacs, faint in his nostrils. “Do you know you smell like lilacs now?”

  “I do?” She lifted her forearm in a gesture that was becoming more familiar and sniffed. “I do! I love lilacs!”

  “So would you actually consider moving here to work?” he asked, intensely curious as to the answer. If she was his mate — mine! — then he needed time to win her over. He would take his time.

  His wolf laughed in the background, knowing he couldn’t afford to take his time.

  She pondered the question. “I’ve never considered moving before. I was raised in St. George and it’s been my home my entire life. But this town has a pull to it that I can’t explain.” She laughed, though she sounded a bit uncomfortable.. “There’s a whole lot about this town that I can’t explain.”

  The vulnerability in her eyes and voice brought out his protective streak again. He reached out and took her hand, and was thrilled when she let him do it, intertwining her delicate fingers with his.

  “You’re going to be all right, Joan. I’ll make sure you’re safe, and the other things — well, you can get used to them.”

  She looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. “Thank you.”

  She was standing in the shade of a huge tree, with the sunlight dappling through and casting just the right shadows to highlight her beautiful face.

  He stepped closer. “Joan ...”

  She raised up on her tiptoes and leaned into him, and then they kissed.

  The earth moved, the fireworks went off, and his heart was never going to be the same. For the first time in his life, he was smitten.

  She clutched his arms as if she’d fall without his support.

  After the kiss ended, he held her in his arms for a long moment, enjoying the sensation of her body pressed against his.

  And, as her scent changed from lilacs to roses, his possessive, emphatic wolf declared, Mine!

  Later that night back at Walter’s place, Joan kept remembering that kiss. She’d really liked that kiss.

  Tabitha had told her that Larry was a playboy, Joan’s least favorite type of guy. But, boy, had she loved that kiss. It was sweet and a little spicy, mostly nice but a little naughty, and she had smelled the scent of roses rising from her skin instead of the earlier scent of lilacs.

  This man and this town were getting under her skin. She was beginning to think she might want a life with him — and that was crazy, because she barely knew him. But everything here was crazy. Monsters. Wolves. Werewolves. Witches. And a whole lot of magic!

  Too wired to sleep, she pulled out the book that she’d borrowed from Walter — A Guide to Healing Tinctures and Potions. She started to turn pages, taking care because it was an old book, and looked for anything on how to stop the Creature from the Black Lagoon. To her disappointment, there was nothing specifically about the creature, but there were several spells that might come in handy.

  She decided on Protection Spell #23. She’d never done anything magical, but the book assured the reader that “anyone may cast if they so desire.”

  She followed the instructions, written in Old English, but when it was over, she couldn’t really feel a difference. So the book was wrong, and not just anyone could cast a spell. That was probably for the best, she supposed.

  Oh, well. She’d tried. And she actually kind of stupid for trying.

  Too bad there wasn’t really a Love Potion #9, though she didn’t think she’d need it with Larry. He seemed pretty whooped on her.

  She smiled at the thought.

  Then she climbed into bed, and tried to sleep.

  She Didn’t Have Any Magic

  “WE FOUND THE CREATURE’S TRAIL,” Samuel updated Larry over the phone the next morning.

  “Good.” Larry asked. “Where?”

  “On the outskirts of town.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Are you sure she’s still safe?”

  “I’ll keep her with me all day today,” Larry promised. “The creature can’t find her without her scent. Triani might be a little weird, but her potions do work.”

  “We’ll keep tracking him. We can’t let him get into town or it’ll be a disaster.”

  “I can help track him,” Larry offered. He felt helpless when other people were out searching for the monster that had snatched Joan. His wolf didn’t like it one bit. He and his wolf both wanted to protect her.

  “No. Your job is to take care of Joan. Keep her safe.”

  “Yes, sir.” Since that was what he — and his wolf — wanted to do anyway, Larry di
dn’t have a problem with that.

  “I’ll keep you updated on anything we find.”

  “Thanks.” Larry hung up and looked around him.

  He’d taken the call in Walter’s library. Walter had fixed a large breakfast again, and Larry could hear Joan in there with him, laughing. Larry had wanted to join them, but knew he had to reach Samuel.

  It bothered him that the creature had been tracked closer to town. That could be a big problem.

  He went back into the dining room to join the others. Walter sat at the table with Joan, who looked up and smiled at Larry, which made him ridiculously happy. He grabbed a plate and filled it with food, then joined them.

  “What’s the news?” Walter asked.

  “The sheriff has caught the trail of the creature.”

  “Oh, good,” Joan said, sounding relieved.

  Larry nodded. “Yes.” He didn’t want to concern her with the rest of the news.

  As he ate, they chatted.

  Something was different, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was.

  And then his wolf came howling in: Mine! And he realized what was different. He could smell Joan’s normal scent again! Fear slammed into him. If he could smell her, that meant the creature could, as well.

  “What’s wrong?” Joan asked, watching him carefully.

  He placed his fork on his plate and took a sip of water to give himself time to formulate an answer. “Triani’s potion was guaranteed for three days, but it’s no longer working. I’m catching your scent again.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? How did that happen?”

  Walter rose. “I’ll call Triani and we can have her come over and give you another dose.” He left the room, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he went.

  Larry looked at her, confused. “Did you do anything that might have made this happen?”

  She shrugged, distressed. “I don’t know. I was reading some passages in Walter’s antique book about spells, and I tried casting one last night, but nothing happened.”

  “What kind of spell?”

  “A protection spell.”

  A chill ran down his spine. “You put a spell of protection on yourself?”