Free Moon Child (Vampire for Hire #4) by J.R. Rain Page B

bag.
    As I held him up, the Irishman looked at me
with eyes slightly crossed, sweat pouring down his face. A second
later his eyes uncrossed and he stared at me. “Jesus, you’re a
freak.”
    “I’ve heard that before. From you, in
fact.”
    But he was still staring at me. “And how did
you get over here so fast?”
    “What can I say? Cat-like reflexes.”
    “Freak-like reflexes,” he said in his Irish
trill. “I need a break, Sam.”
    He took his break, and in his office, through
his partially open door, I saw him down a few cups of water and
what looked like pain medication. He came back, cracked his neck,
grabbed the heavy bag from behind, and said, “Round four. Let’s do
this.”
    And we did this, with Jacky grunting and
taking the brunt of the impacts and screaming at me to keep my
hands up. I cursed and punched and did my best to keep my hands up,
and all the while I felt the sun slipping slowly toward the
horizon.
     
     
     

Chapter Twenty-four
     
     
    A quick shower and a few miles later and I
was at the Cal State Fullerton library, which was bigger than I
remembered.
    I had graduated here in my early twenties
with a degree in criminal justice. That degree led to a job
interview with the Department of Housing and Urban Development,
where I was eventually hired as a federal agent. A great job, and
one I regretted leaving, but it’s hard to work the day shift when
you’re a creature of the night.
    The Cal State Fullerton library was epic.
Granted, I’ve never been to other university libraries but I would
be hard-pressed to believe any of them could be as big as this one.
There were five floors of books, with rows upon rows of aisles that
seemed endless. Cubicles everywhere, filled with students connected
to iPods, iPhones and iEverything else. The juxtaposition of dusty
library with modern technology was striking. Two worlds
colliding.
    At the information desk, I found a terminal
and punched in the name “Archibald Maximus.” Or tried to. Typing
with these sharp nails was a bitch. A few tries later and I hit
“enter” with little hope.
    I wasn’t surprised. As expected, nothing came
up.
    I thought about what Fang had said about the
university having a considerable occult section and decided to ask
someone about it.
    That someone turned out to be a flirty young
man with a killer smile. He was standing behind a long, curved
desk, stacking books.
    “Where might I find your occult section?” I
asked.
    He blinked. “The Occult Reading Room?” Some
of the flirt left him. Just some.
    I nodded encouraging, and his grin returned
and I could see his mind trying to find some angle to use for a
come-on line. He found none, and seemed disappointed with himself.
That is, if his long sigh was any indication.
    “Third floor,” he said. “And you’re in luck.
The room’s only open two hours a day and you have about twenty
minutes.”
    “Lucky me,” I said, turning. “Thank you.”
    “I can show it to you, if you like—”
    “No, thanks, cutie. I’ll manage.”
    He smiled and nearly said something else but
I had already turned away, heading quickly to the bank of
elevators, where one opened immediately. As the doors were closing,
I caught sight of something so disturbing that I immediately tried
to punch the door open. Too late, they closed and I was heading
up.
    A tall man had been moving purposely toward
me. A tall man wearing a bow tie.
     
     
     

Chapter Twenty-five
     
     
    The elevator doors opened on the third
floor.
    I half expected to see the same man in the
bow tie appear, but, as far as I could tell, I was alone on the
third floor. And if anything, the floor appeared even bigger and
more spacious than the ground floor. Row after row of endless
shelving that stretched as far as the eye could see, all lit
gloomily by halogen lighting that dully reflected off the scuffed
acrylic flooring.
    Cryptic signs with seemingly random words and
numbers pointed in various directions, apparently of