The mysterious bookstore is tucked in the corner of an old strip mall between a Thai restaurant and a nail salon. With a hand-painted sign, a single, dark window and a plain, peeling door, it's easy to overlook.
In fact, Noah has explained, only those with a need of the knowledge it contains can see or find the place at all.
"Good thing we can all see it, then," Sky remarks.
Noah shrugs and unlocks the door with an antique key. "Maybe. It might not work quite the same since I brought you here, but we can hope."
He holds the door and we file inside.
Ambrose had come along, and while I hadn't wanted to bring them, but one mention of 'magic bookstore' and there was no chance of leaving the kids behind.
Noah flips a switch on the wall and crisscrossing strings of fairy lights flicker to life, bathing the place in a warm, ambient glow, which reveals either a fire-marshall's nightmare or a hoarder's dream.
Bookshelves of all sizes, arranged haphazardly, create a maze of strange angles and narrow aisles. Books, also in no apparent order, pack the shelves. Most appear old, with cloth-bound covers and faded spines, but a few newer titles stand out like dashes of color on black-and-white. I frown as the kids immediately take off into the bookish chaos, delighted by the enchantment of hidden corners and secrets waiting to be found.
"There's not a kids' section, is there?" I ask, worried that Nico and Rio might come across an illustrated Kama Sutra, or something.
"Not that I'm aware," Noah says easily, shutting the door and pocketing the key.
"Wouldn't you know?" Sky asks, his eyes flicking over the titles on the nearest shelves.
Noah smiles, and something in his expression strikes me. He's grown into himself since finding his mate: discovered a serene confidence I never knew he had. We were inseparable as kids — he, Travis, and I — like three parts of a single whole, but adulthood saw us drift apart. Travis moved to Oregon to join his mate's pack, and Noah was absorbed with his studies. In our separation, other interests eclipsed the childhood passions we once shared, and our individual personalities became more pronounced: like Noah's shy nature, Travis' workaholic tendencies, and my inability to grow a spine.
Now Noah has found a balance with his mate, each complementing and completing the other: Ambrose bringing out my brother's strength, and Noah helping to soften Ambrose's harder edges and temper his fire — literal and otherwise.
I wonder if the same might be true of me and Sky, if that's what differentiates 'true' mates from the more ordinary kind, and if so, what I could possibly have to offer him in return.
Turning aside so no one sees my expression, I pretend to be absorbed with the books while Noah explains the workings of the shop to Sky. My brother's demure demeanor might hide the heart of a strong wolf, but my mask hid only an empty shell.
That's what I had believed until I met Sky, anyway, and my Wolf began to heal. I still hadn't Shifted, though, and it slumbered on; a fact that brings my thoughts to Miguel. I haven't had a proper talk with him since Elena's unexpected appearance, and I might as well take the opportunity now.
Like Flora and the younger twins, he'd set off to explore the shop, and disappeared from view among the maze of shelves. I find him in a little corner at the end of an aisle, sitting cross-legged and hunched over a book.
He glances up as I approach.
"Find something good?"
He shrugs and returns to studying the page. It looks like a black and white illustration, though I can't tell of what..
"Are you going to leave us?" he asks, shoulders hunched.
"Leave you? Why would I leave you?"
"That's what you said. That you'd go with Sky."
Crouching at his side, I rub my fingers across my lips. "You heard that, huh?"
He nods.
"You know, for a boy who apparently isn't a Wolf, you've got some mean stealth skills."
He glances up at me with a troubled expression, then goes back to studying the book.
I rest a hand on his shoulder. "Miguel, talk to me. Tell me what happened."
He sniffs. "I didn't lie. I just wanted my sketchbook. It's hardly farther from Uncle Noah's house to ours than it is from our house to school."
I press my lips together and take a breath, swallowing my annoyance. He's not wrong, but the route to school follows pedestrian zones and doesn't cut across busy streets. More importantly, I know where he is when he walks to school.
"You know you had us worried, right? You gave your uncles quite a scare, to say nothing of me."
"I said I was sorry," he mumbles.
"I know. And I know it's not your fault. Obviously, you made it home in time to eavesdrop. Then what happened?"
He sniffs again and turns the pages of the book, revealing another black-and-white image. It looks like a detailed wood engraving in the style of Gustave Doré, with more shadow than light.
"I was... mad."
"At me?"
"At... him."
"Sky?"
Miguel nods. "He's taking you away from us. I heard what you said. Even if you don't go with him, if he leaves, you'll die."
"That was just hypothetical, Miguel. I'm not going anywhere."
He wipes hastily at his eyes. "You can't promise that."
I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale, softening my tone. "You're right. I can't promise that I'll always be here. Nobody can promise that. But I can promise you I'm not choosing anyone over you, or Flora, or Nico, or Rio. You guys will always come first for me."
"But you said—"
"If you were really listening, then you know I said I'd rather leave and come back than leave you for good. That means that I will do everything in my power to stay, and that if I do have to leave, I'll come back as soon as I can."
"If you can."
I nod. "That's why we're here — to find a solution. And we will find one."
"What if Mom has it?" he asks.
"What?"
"I said, what if Mom has the solution? Why won't you listen to her?"
I blink, taken aback. Why wouldn't I listen to the woman who tortured and intended to murder me? Gee, I wonder.
After a moment, the little storm-cloud of thoughts stirred by his words settles back to peace in my mind, and I sigh.
"If you're as good at listening as you seem to be, then I'm guessing you know why."
"I hate her too," he says, scrubbing at red-rimmed eyes. "I thought she was gonna kidnap me, or make me do something bad, but she didn't. She just drove me home."
"Really?"
He nods. "I tried to run away. I thought if I could just Shift and run away, you'd have to come after me; you'd have to stay. But I... couldn't. I've been trying ever since Flora... but I..."
He turns away, hiding his face. I rest a hand on his back, glad when a little of the tension eases beneath the warmth of my touch.
"What happened?"
"I went up to the lake. And I was on my way back, when a car pulled over, and she got out. She told me to come with her. I was scared, so... I did. But all we did was drive around and talk."
"Was she alone?"
"No. There was a man. He was driving. She sat with me in the back."
"What did you talk about?"
"Stuff." He shrugs.
I sigh. "Miguel..."
"I don't know, okay? I didn't say anything at first, and I was too scared to listen to what she was saying, but she talked a lot. Something about her new pack, and regret, and missing us. She said she had a problem, and she didn't know who else to ask. She said she'd been watching us, keeping an eye on us from afar, and she thought maybe you and she had the same problem."
"What problem?"
Miguel hunches his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe she was just trying to get me to talk. But she said she could help, so I... I told her everything. Then she brought me home."
I raise my eyes to the ceiling and bite back another sigh. It could have been a lot worse, considering. Still, I didn't like this new turn of events. Elena had obviously followed us to the coast as well, where she threatened Dr. Howard. How long had she been spying on us? And why had she revealed herself now?
Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, I reach for Miguel.
"Hey, come here." Grabbing him by the shoulders, I force him to face me and pull him into a hug. "You can be mad at me all you want. Just don't run away again, okay? Your uncle Monty was a late bloomer too, you know. Didn't Shift till he was 15. Just 'cause your Wolf's not awake yet doesn't mean it's not there."
"You're not mad at me?" he asks, tears tightening his voice.
"Maybe a little," I say, letting a hint of humor into my tone. "But mostly I'm just glad you're safe. I love you."
He mumbles something into my shoulder that sounds enough like 'I love you, too' to make me happy.
"So," I say, letting him go at last. "What have you got here? Something that jumped out at you?"
Wiping hastily at his eyes, he shakes his head. "Dunno. I just pulled it off the shelf and... I like the pictures."
Taking the book, I open it and flip through a few pages.
The artwork is... interesting. I can almost make out shapes amid the swirls of darkness and light, but they're like images seen in dreams: half there, half imagined. I turn my attention to the text and discover it's written in another language, which to my untrained eye looks like German.
"Huh." I hand it back to him. "Well, we can ask Uncle Noah. He speaks like, twelve languages, or something."
"Four."
I look up to see my brother standing at my back.
"I speak four languages. I can read seven."
"Close enough." I grin and take the book back from Miguel, handing it to Noah. "How about this one?"
"German," he says, scanning the page. "Haven't practiced since grad school, but I remember enough."
"What's it about?" Miguel asks.
Noah's slim shoulders lift in a shrug, accentuated by his fitted waistcoat. He's relaxed quite a bit in the past six months or so, but he still dresses like he's about to lecture at Oxford.
"No idea. It would take me a bit of time to decipher it. But the title is..." he studies it intently. "Die Schattenwelt. 'The Shadow World.'"
His browse lift and he hands it back to Miguel.
"You might want to ask your uncle Dane or Julian about that one. You like it?"
Miguel nods.
"What's it worth to you?" Noah asks.
Miguel glances at the book in his hands. "More than I've got," he says glumly.
"It's a gift then," Noah says. "From the shop."
Miguel and I both look up at that, our expressions likely a mirror of surprise.
Noah smiles. "That's how it works. The shop, I mean. The book chooses the reader, not the other way around. That one has chosen you. I can tell."
He winks at Miguel and walks back up the aisle, to where Sky still stands in conversation with Ambrose.
'The Shadow World.' I shake my head and scoff.
This is clearly a waste of time in terms of finding answers to our current predicament, but at least two things have become clear to me: my brother is a Wolf of unusual talents, and Spring Lakes is one weird-ass town.