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Eve shrugged. She already knew they watched her at all times. It was what they did. They watched. So she watched them. She knew the muscles in Malcolm’s cheek twitched every time he concentrated. His forehead pinched when he was about to speak. He smiled with only half of his mouth. She knew his face better than she knew her own. If that freaked out Aunt Nicki, then so be it.

“You said you’d tell me about libraries,” Eve said.

He brightened. “Yes! Of course. Libraries are public buildings …” He launched into a full explanation—their history, their structure, their purpose. She watched his mouth move as he talked. It was always soothing to listen to him. Like the hum of a refrigerator.

Interrupting, she asked, “Why are you so kind to me?”

Startled, he shot her a look, but then he fixed his eyes back on the road, switching lanes to avoid a parked car. “You’re my case.”

“I’m Aunt Nicki’s too.”

“You were mine first.” He pulled into the parking lot of the East Somerville Public Library. More softly, he said, “Besides, you need someone to be kind to you. I don’t think anyone ever has been.”

She stared at him. For all the explaining he did, he never hinted about her past. Doctor’s orders, he’d claimed.

He parked, then turned to face her. “Remember, you’ll be in public. It’s imperative you follow the rules. Stay inconspicuous—Your eyes. They’re different.” His own eyes bugged, the whites startlingly white against his dark skin.

“I changed them,” Eve said. She looked down at her hands, twisted tight into a knot in her lap. She should have changed them back before he saw.

“You changed them,” Malcolm repeated. “Did you know you could do that?”

Eve thought about it. “I didn’t know I couldn’t.”

She watched him wipe his expression to carefully neutral. “It’s a good discovery. From now on, though, please limit your discoveries to when you are safe inside the agency. You can’t do that in public.” He held up his hand as if to forestall her reaction, though she hadn’t intended to respond. His voice was soft and gentle. “You can’t do any magic here. There is no magic in this world—that’s why this place is safe for you.”

She held her face still. Another hint about her past. He had told her so much in those few sentences, more than he’d ever told her before. There is no magic in this world, she thought. I’m from another world?

He clasped her hands in his. “Eve, I am serious. If you aren’t capable of this, if you don’t feel ready, let me know and we drive away right now. You don’t have to work here. You don’t have to stay in that house. We can return to the agency and wait until you’re ready.”

The kindness was back, filling his eyes, and for an instant she wanted to cling to his hands and say, Yes, take me back. Keep me safe. Stay with me. But she thought of the girl in the tower with a world laid out before her that she could not touch. “I want to be here.”

Chapter Three

Eve liked the library at once. She and Malcolm walked into the lobby, and she inhaled the smell of paper and dust—it reminded her of Malcolm’s office at the agency. Books lined the shelves behind the circulation desk, and a bank of plants filled the windowsills.

A woman bustled up to them as they stood in the lobby. “Mr. Harrington? I’m Patti Langley, the library director. I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a mix-up regarding your request.”

Malcolm scowled, which on him was a formidable expression. His bushy eyebrows lowered to shade his eyes so they looked like dark craters.

Patti smiled so brightly that her eyes crinkled up until they nearly disappeared. “As I attempted to explain to your associate on the phone before she disconnected me—I’m sure accidentally—I know we told your office we had an assistant position available, but I’m afraid it’s been filled. We simply don’t have the funding for two assistants. Believe me when I say that our budget is out of my hands. I’m so terribly sorry for the inconvenience this may cause you.”

Eve looked at each of them, their expressions so exaggerated that they might have been dolls mimicking real expressions. She thought about telling Malcolm never mind. They could just leave. She could pick another job. But Malcolm didn’t so much as glance at Eve.

“This position doesn’t require funding, ma’am,” Malcolm said. “Surely the office told you that? Budget constraints aren’t a concern. We will handle the financial aspect.”

Patti’s face turned pink. “Oh!” She sounded like a mouse that had been squeezed. “Still, we only have work enough for one assistant.”

“Surely there are things to shelve.” Malcolm continued to scowl. “Eve will be an asset. She follows direction well. Never makes trouble. She’s the quiet type.”

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private,” Patti said. “It’s … The board has concerns. I have concerns. Security concerns.”

“Very well.” Malcolm leveled a finger at Eve. “You have your cell phone. Use it if you need to. Don’t leave the library.” He followed Patti behind the circulation desk, and then they disappeared through an office door.

For an instant, Eve didn’t move. She touched the lump in her pocket that was the cell phone and wondered if this was a test. She looked at the windows, expecting to see Aunt Nicki watching her from outside. All she saw was the parking lot. She glanced at the office door. It stayed shut.

Quickly, she scooted into the main library, past the reference desk, past the computers, and into the stacks. Stepping in between bookshelves, she felt as if the library were enveloping her. The smell of books swirled around her.

Selecting a book at random, Eve pressed her nose against the pages and inhaled. She smelled dust and paper, a hint of coffee like Malcolm drank, a little overly sweet scent like Aunt Nicki wore. Eve pictured a woman curled on a couch with this book, her cup of coffee beside her, her perfume fresh on her wrists. Eve wondered if she left behind smells on the things that she touched too. She imagined tracing her smells out of the library, into Malcolm’s car … Her smell would be thick in the bed where she’d lain with the sheets tucked tight around her as she stared up at the ceiling and tried not to dream. She’d trace the smell back to the agency, but what if she followed it farther? Had there been books in her past that she’d touched? Had she felt safe with them? Just holding this book made her feel as if arms were wrapped around her.

“Smell okay?” A male voice. Very close.

She felt as if ice water had been poured into her veins. Freezing, she didn’t breathe. She had the phone, she reminded herself. Plus, Malcolm wouldn’t have left her if there were any real danger.

Forcing herself to inhale and exhale, Eve lowered the book from her nose. On the other side of the book was a boy her age. He had brown eyes with green flecks, and unlike Malcolm, he was closer to her height, so those eyes peered directly into hers as if pinning her to the bookshelf.

He scooped a book off the shelf next to her and sniffed it. “This one smells like bacon.” He picked up another. “Cigarettes.” A third. “Just book. I like the smell of fresh books best, especially just-processed books with the slick plastic covers.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Zach, library page, at your service.” After a second’s hesitation, she shook his hand. It was warm and soft. “I think it’s a shame that it’s customary to shake hands upon greeting when what I really want to do is kiss your lips and see if you taste like strawberries.”