Chapter 1: The Library After Dark
The grandfather clock in Ravenswood Public Library chimed eleven times, its deep resonance echoing through the empty halls. Maya Chen should have left hours ago, but the ancient text she'd discovered in the restricted archives had captivated her completely. As the head librarian, she had access to books that most people never knew existed—volumes that spoke of things that shouldn't be real.
Yet here she sat, surrounded by leather-bound grimoires and manuscripts that seemed to pulse with their own energy, trying to decipher symbols that made her fingertips tingle whenever she traced them.
A soft thud from the main floor made her freeze. Maya glanced at her watch—definitely past closing time. She'd locked the doors herself before retreating to the basement archives. Her heart hammered as she heard footsteps, deliberate and unhurried.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice smaller than intended. "The library is closed."
The footsteps stopped.
Maya grabbed her phone, its flashlight beam cutting through the dusty air as she made her way up the narrow stairs. The main floor stretched before her, moonlight streaming through tall windows and casting everything in silver. Nothing seemed out of place among the familiar rows of books and reading tables.
Then she saw him.
A man stood silhouetted against the largest window, his back to her. Tall and lean, with dark hair that seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it. He wore a long coat that moved like liquid shadow, and something about his very presence made the air feel charged with electricity.
"Excuse me," Maya said, forcing authority into her voice despite the way her pulse quickened. "The library closed at nine. You need to leave."
He turned slowly, and Maya's breath caught in her throat. His face was sharp angles and classical beauty, the kind that belonged in Renaissance paintings rather than small-town libraries. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold—pale silver, almost luminous in the darkness, and far too knowing for a stranger.
"Forgive the intrusion," he said, his voice carrying a faint accent she couldn't place. "I was looking for something specific. A book about… lunar mythology."
Maya blinked. "At eleven at night? How did you even get in?"
A smile ghosted across his lips. "Old buildings have their secrets. As do old books." His gaze flickered toward the basement stairs. "You've been reading about us, haven't you?"
"Us?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
Instead of answering, he moved closer, and Maya noticed that his footsteps made no sound on the wooden floor. Her logical mind screamed at her to run, to call the police, to do anything except stand there mesmerized by his otherworldly presence.
"My name is Kieran," he said, stopping just close enough that she could catch his scent—pine and rain and something wild. "And you, Maya Chen, have stumbled upon knowledge that puts you in considerable danger."
"How do you know my name?" But even as she asked, Maya felt pieces clicking into place. The books she'd been reading, the symbols that seemed familiar despite being completely foreign, the way certain pages had felt warm beneath her fingers.
"Because," Kieran said gently, "you're not entirely human. And neither am I."