The Library of Shadows by Rachel Moore

Author:Rachel Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Este woke up with a hangover from hell. Literally.

Her head throbbed and lips burned. When she pulled her eyelids open, they scraped against her dry eyes. Every corner of her body ached. Crashing her mom’s Atlantic blue Outback against a tree in the Catskills while she was learning to drive had done less damage.

A few candles had been lit in the senior lounge, but the wall sconces were blessedly extinguished. Her hatching migraine couldn’t have handled the extra light. Someone had put the surviving rivean ivy blossoms in a glass vase, and their heady perfume swept through the room.

Este’s fingers pressed into the smooth fabric of the velvet chaise, sitting upward despite the protests of every swollen joint. The antidote envelope sat on the table next to her, emptied. Was that why her mouth tasted like month-old salami?

The door creaked open. Mateo nudged through, arms cradling a tower of bits and bobs like he’d accidentally walked into a Target without a list.

When he lifted his eyes, he flinched at the sight of her. She winced as everything he’d carried crashed to the floor.

“Criminy, Este,” he said as he scooped up boxes of bandages and ointment bottles and a stray thermometer that scattered all the way to the fireplace. “Give a man a warning before you rise from the dead.”

“How did I get here?” Este asked, smearing her hands over her tired eyes.

Mateo toed a wrinkled Persian carpet heaped on the floor. “Once I got the rug underneath you, dragging you down the hallway was easy enough. Had to get Daveed’s help to get you up the stairs, though.”

Este cringed. She could picture her body splayed in different directions, mouth sagging open and drooling, as Mateo slid her around the Lilith. Not exactly the most flattering image.

“What’s all that stuff for?” she asked as he shuffled across the room. His balancing act almost crashed and burned a few extra times before making it to the base of the chaise.

“Do you remember anything?” Eyes wide, Mateo’s line of vision drooped to Este’s waist, and hers followed.

Memories waded through a black tide. The ivy nectar, the heat against her cheeks, her eyes the size of moons when she looked at Mateo. Oh, god. She made such a fool of herself. She winced at the thought, and her side stitched with pain.

Bile climbed up her throat. This wasn’t just the worst hangover ever. Her cable-knit cream sweater had been shredded. Crusted rust-colored stains coated the threads. She pinched her eyes closed and reopened them in case the sight was a hallucination from remnant toxins clinging to her bloodstream, but the mess stayed. Whatever adrenaline surged through her veins was enough to mask the immediate pain, but when she actually had to feel those claw marks, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

The acrid taste clung to her tongue as she said, “The Fades.”

“Got her hands on you pretty good.” Mateo dropped his stack of supplies next to her. Suddenly, the pile of gauze made a lot more sense.

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