It's a Trap!
The librarian glared at the piece of paper in her hand. Why would the Tower send her here? She’d been a good employee; she’d done exactly as they had wanted, and now she was standing in the middle of the French Quarter, a hint of a pout on her lips. There was so much to feel here, so many stories that asked for her to follow.
She couldn’t read minds like the Fae and many of the faekin. Some in the Tower believed it was her unwillingness to learn, to stretch and grow. There were some who’d actually pushed her through exercises over and over, yet they never fully achieved the result they wanted. Niklas Wright could read patterns instead, which was often times more useful.
There were those who thought she was reading probabilities. Others thought she could see the future. Maybe it was instinctual, but instead, she read stories. She saw the world in so many stories, people, items, places. When she was younger, it was overwhelming, and her mother took her to remote locations. As she got older, and once she got over her mother’s passing, she became an asset. An asset who could traverse into the Dreamlands as much as read the patterns in people’s lives.
So, there she was, feeling as if she were being punished with the many stories that surrounded her. They wanted her to retrieve an item. They could have sent anyone, and instead, they sent her. She stood on the sidewalk and stared, not at anyone or thing in particular. She needed to focus. She really did.
----
New Orleans in the modern age was much like New Orleans had always been. A center for magic and mystery. Since its inception, there had been a kind of draw to the supernatural creatures of the world, they flocked there in droves. It spawned covens and was home to vampires, fairies adored it, and ghosts resided in nearly every corner.
It was no different for Macklyn Warlow.
He didn’t quite know what he wanted with the old city, just knew that he wanted to be there. Wanted to find something. Had a desire that burned inside of him so deeply that he couldn’t ignore it.
Which was why, on that day, he was walking with something of an aimless purpose. A pull with no source. And which is why he happened to stumble upon the girl who reminded him of so many things, but mostly of springtime and the warm sun. He could smell her, the magic in her. It was so intriguing that he couldn’t do anything but approach.
“You look lost.” He said, smiling when he got closer.
---
The librarian didn’t jump. There was a time she might have, but her training had taught her to stay calm. The whole world could overwhelm her if she let them, yet…
“I am.” Her voice was soft, the only tell that she was just a hint out of her depth. It was only a small glimpse, but everything about him said he had more to say than any other thing around her. She had to bite her lip just a little to keep herself focused, to keep herself from asking the questions that didn’t quite have words yet to form them properly.
She gave him a hint of a smile in wonder before taking a breath and trying yet again to find her voice. She even rolled her shoulders to show that she was not some silly little girl. That also seemed to knock some of that feeling of other away from him. He was...just a little different now.
“Do you know…” She lost her question as she realized this was a rather attractive man, and the only thing she could think of was a song. The way to San Jose danced along in her head. She had to close her eyes. “Do you know the way to 141 East Marcel?”
Wonderful, some attractive man talks to me and I lose my composure.
----
Macklyn kept his composure enough to not let on that he was hearing the thoughts she was projecting so clearly. He only smiled politely, waiting for her to finish her question. The directions she needed were easy as pie, really.
“You’re not that far.” He nodded his head to the left, indicating she should follow, and turned to begin the very short trek in the direction of 141. It was truly just around the corner. But he could understand how a city like New Orleans would turn somebody around, how there were so many things to look at that somebody could lose track of what they were looking for and where they were.
“Is this your first time? Or just your first time trying to find this building?”
---
“I’ve been through New Orleans, but I’ve rarely stayed very long. I don’t plan on staying long this visit either.” Niks tried to keep her voice very even, not too distant, but not overly friendly. Polite. Professional. The fact that her cheeks had grown a touch rosier was lost on her. Or maybe she was doing her best to ignore the hint of heat in her cheeks.
“This building is something I need to know.” Her nose wrinkled a little, trying not to be cute. It was just her way of things.
“Are you from here?” She couldn’t hide that she was a transplant of some sort; her accent said as much.