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Crush (Crave, #2)(42)

Author:Tracy Wolff

“What’s wrong?” I ask, more than willing to take as long as possible to get to what I’m rapidly beginning to think of as the library of doom. “Do you need something?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you do.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. He just tilts his head to the side—and listens like he’s waiting for something. A minute later, Mekhi is standing before me. And holding a large black jacket that I recognize as Jaxon’s.

He grins at me and bows, presenting the jacket as if to royalty. “My lady.”

For the first time since I woke up in a giant magical circle, everything seems like it might be okay. Mekhi isn’t treating me weirdly. He’s grinning at me like he always does. And I can’t help but grin back.

I give a mock curtsy and take the jacket from his hands. “My liege.”

“I’m going to want all the details later, but I’ve got to book it to my next class right now. See ya, Grace!” And with that, he vanishes. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how fast vampires can move.

“You didn’t have to ask Mekhi to do that.” I take off my ripped-up blazer and don Jaxon’s jacket, inhaling his scent as I do.

“I know.” He watches me carefully. “I like taking care of you.”

My already battered heart aches a little more at his words and the look in his eyes. I just wish I knew how to respond. There’s a part of me, a big part, that wants to lean in to him and press my lips to his. But I also know my gargoyle won’t let me yet, which is super frustrating on pretty much all the levels.

I mean, why let me kiss him that first time when I just got back to school, only to make sure I never let him near me like that again? It bothers me, and I can only imagine that it bothers Jaxon, too, even though he doesn’t say anything. In the end, I do the only thing I can do. I hold his gaze, hoping he can see in my eyes just how much his caring means to me.

“Come on, let’s go,” Jaxon finally says, and there is a gruffness to his voice that isn’t usually there. He holds a hand out to me.

I take it, and the two of us head down the winding steps together.

“Do you know what Uncle Finn wants to show me in the library?” I ask as we make it to the correct floor.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I got a frantic text from Macy telling me that you were missing, so the guys and I started looking, along with Finn and her. They texted us that they’d found you in the tower, but that’s all I know.”

“I don’t understand,” I tell him, a shiver running down my spine as we finally make it to the hallway the library is on. “I went to the library to research gargoyles around noon, but I don’t remember doing any research. I don’t remember anything, actually, after I sat down to work.”

“It’s five o’clock, Grace.”

“But I was in the library. Did Amka know when I left?”

“You would think, but I don’t know. Like I said, she called your uncle and Macy, not me.” There’s something in his voice that I can’t quite identify, but he doesn’t sound impressed.

Apparently, Jaxon feels like he deserves to be notified about things related to me. Which is annoying, because he doesn’t actually own me. And yet, I think about how I would feel if something happened to him… Yeah, pretty sure I would want to be notified, too.

He holds the library door open for me, and then we walk inside, only to find a conspicuously empty open glass case. Whatever item was displayed there is gone, the bed of purple velvet empty in that one spot.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask my uncle. “I don’t know what happened. It was fine when I was here earlier.”

And if anyone had actually tried to break into it when I was here, I would have seen them. So would Amka. The exhibit is diagonally across from the table she set up for me and directly in front of the circulation desk.

“What do you remember from when you were here earlier, Grace?” Amka is the one asking me questions now, my uncle hanging back and following her lead.

“Not a lot, honestly. I remember our conversation and sitting down to work, but that’s it. Did something else happen?”

“You don’t remember working?”

“No. I remember getting ready to work, but I don’t remember opening a book or taking any notes. Did I do that?”

“You took all the notes.” She picks up a notebook from her desk and hands it to me.

I flip through it, and she’s right. It’s more than half full already, with information about gargoyles that I have no recollection of but am now itching to sit down and read.

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