Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📗

I turned to Cian. “So, you can leave the magic bubble blanket without any issues, but ya can’t come in?”

He instantly cracked up.

“I feel like that was a valid question, and I resent that you are laughing at me and not even answering it.” I crossed my arms and stared at him . . . as he laughed.

His lips pressed hard together as his laughter quieted a bit. Just a bit. “T’ answer your question, aye. You can leave the . . . what did ya call it?”

“Bubble blanket,” I repeated.

More laughter. “Is that the best alliteration ya got?” he snickered.

“I think it’s awesome. Can you do better?” I challenged.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head, still grinning. “I don’t know. How about . . .” he thought for a moment. “Bulletproof bubble?” He glared at me and nodded. “Yeah . . . c’mon. Ya know ya like it.”

“I mean . . . I don’t hate it. Bulletproof bubble it is. Wait . . . is it actually bulletproof?” My voice went up an octave as I asked.

“Ya know, I’ve never tested it,” he confessed.

“We should test it.”

“Nah. Un-uh. I don’t think we should,” he added and smiled one of those deep, dimple bearing smiles that made his eyes light with laughter. I was fairly sure it was my favorite of his smiles. Though, I was partial to the crooked one that followed a mischievous wink. It was a toss-up.

“Ya ready?” he asked. “I know you’re chomping at the bit to get to the library and get your hands on something.”

I paused, stared at him for a moment and bit my tongue.

“Research material, young lady. And here I thought ya were all business,” he joked.

“I mean . . . I’m like, eighty percent business. So—”

“Aye, it’s that twenty percent I can see I’m goin’ t’ have t’ keep an eye on,” he winked. “C’mon. Let’s get ya some research. Shall we?”

If I thought the library seemed a little eerie and empty before, then I had spoken too soon. I’ve never been one to spook easily, but I can admit when a place makes me a little uneasy. And I was glad that I didn’t have to walk through the Pyreshore Library by myself, in the pitch dark. Cian walked the dark hallway next to me, the hum of his energy offering comfort as it mingled with mine.

“Why is this place so creepy at night?” I whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” he whispered back.

I elbowed him.

“Oww. Now, that’s not very nice. You’re goin’ t’ upset the friendly spirits if you’re not nice to me,” he teased.

“I don’t believe in ghosts, so . . . nice try.”

“Then why d’ ya find this place creepy at night?” he asked as we reached the door that led into the research area where we’d spent the entire afternoon.

“The dead have never been a threat to me. It’s the unsavories that lurk about in the dark I’m concerned with. And this place is dark right now.”

“Hmph,” he blew a breath out and pulled the door open for us to step inside.

“What?”

“Just seeing a different side of you, that’s all.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t. I just stepped through the door and stopped to consider a plan of attack. Dim lighting created a strange ambiance. It would have been excellent mood lighting if I weren’t already a little on edge . . . and trying to avoid mood lighting. I was in enough trouble being around Cian McCallister. I didn’t need assistance from mood lighting.

“Okay, I say we start with the books that we didn’t get t’ go through earlier. Unless you have a better plan?” I suggested.

"Nope. But I’d bring the journals too. Never know when ya might need to cross-reference something with first-hand accounts.”

“See, I knew ya weren’t just a pretty face.”

Mischief danced in his eyes and he nudged my arm with his. “You think I’m pretty.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just go get the books. I’ll get the journals. Well, the journal. That one is empty, remember?”

“Grab it anyway,” he said as he started to walk toward the stacks in the back. He turned, walking backward as he talked. “We didn’t look at every page, and sometimes these Keeper types can be sneaky. Someone might have written something on a back page.” He shrugged.

“Okay. Meet ya back here in a minute.” I headed for the section where the collective journals resided and made very quick work of gathering the two journals I had returned to the shelves just a couple of hours earlier. Less than two minutes later, I was standing by the door waiting for Cian. He emerged from the stacks carrying several books.

“We didn’t have that many books, did we?” I questioned.

“I might have grabbed one or two others that looked interesting.”

“Here. Let me help.” I grabbed two books from on top of his pile to make it easier for him to carry, making sure to avoid touching his hand, because . . . mood lighting.

“Thanks.”

Returning down the dark hallway, I had the strange feeling of being watched. I looked back over my shoulder a couple of times, just to check. But the hallway was empty each time.

“You okay?” Cian asked just as we reached the end of the hall where it opened into the main hub of the building.

I glanced over my shoulder once more. “Aye. I’m fine. Just . . . I d’know.”

Cian stopped and turned to look down the hall behind us. I stopped next to him, and he positioned himself directly in front of me and focused his gaze downward. “If somethin’s up, ya tell me. A’ight?” Concern flashed in his expression as he angled his face in a slight slant and crooked an eyebrow.

“Aye,” I yielded.

“Good. Now, we have the option to head to the third floor. Or . . . we