Libriomancer by Jim C. Hines Read Free Book Online Page A

yesterday, I wasn’t taking chances. I relaxed at the sight of Deb DeGeorge standing impatiently on the front porch. “Go ahead.”
    Lena unlocked the door, and Deb stepped inside. “Oh, good,” she said. “You’re still alive.”
    I snorted. “Nice to see you, too.”
    Deb was in her early forties, with gray hair cut playfully short and a trio of silver rings in each ear. I had never seen her wear any color but black, and today was no exception. A thigh-length black jacket covered a matching shirt and long skirt.
    She gave me a quick hug before moving toward the living room. Her breath smelled of gum and mint mouthwash. Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the books spilling over the end table and spread over the floor.
    “Don’t even start,” I said, tossing the Heinlein onto the closest pile.
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “You don’t have to.” I jabbed a finger at the books. “I’ll have you know that I’ve developed a highly refined, if unorthodox, cataloging system.”
    Deb ran a hand over the shelves, clucking her tongue. “So many books, and no nonfiction? No biographies or histories?”
    “Office library, Miss Snooty. Just because
you
have no imagination doesn’t mean the rest of us should limit ourselves to dusty old textbooks.”
    Deb’s first love had always been history. Whereas I could reach into a sci-fi thriller and yank out a blaster, she could produce invaluable artifacts from three-hundred-year-old texts. Rumor had it the Porters had recruited her at the age of sixteen, after she successfully sold a copy of the Star of Bombay, a 182-carat star sapphire currently housed in the Smithsonian.
    I preferred my lasers and magic swords.
    Deb’s eyes were puffy, and she moved with a barely-contained manic energy that suggested either recent magic use or a major caffeine overdose. Possibly both, knowing her.
    She studied me in turn. “Those are some nasty bruises.”
    I touched my throat. I had managed to hide those with my collar yesterday after work, but the bathrobe exposed more of the bruises and scratches left by Mel and her minions. “You should see the other guys.”
    My stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl, earning a sympathetic look from Deb. Magic burned a lot of energy, but it ruined your appetite. Even hours later, the thought of food made me feel mildly nauseated. Magic was a great weight-loss plan, but as any doctor could tell you, losing too much weight too quickly was a bad idea. Magic users had died of malnutrition before. By the end of my time in the field, I had been down to a hundred and twenty pounds. My nails had been yellow and brittle, my blood pressure dangerously low, and I had been cold all the time.
    “What’s going on, Deb?” I asked.
    She sagged into the armchair. “I would have been here sooner, but there was another attack.”
    I braced myself. “Who?”
    “Not who.” Emotion roughened her words. “Around eleven o’clock last night, the Michigan State University library burned to the ground.” Her eyes met mine, sharing a pain few others would have understood.
    Her words choked away any remaining fatigue. “How bad?”
    “
All
of it.”
    “Why would vampires go after a library?” asked Lena.
    “Because,” I said numbly, “the MSU library housed the regional archive for the Porters.” So many books . . . so much knowledge. “Have any other archives been hit?”
    “Not yet.” Deb pulled out her cell phone and checked the screen, then tucked it away again. “Whoever’s behind this, they’re keeping it local so far.”
    Lena edged closer. “We know who’s behind this.”
    “I don’t think vampires did this.” Deb stared at the floor. “What would you say if I told you Johannes Gutenberg disappeared three months ago?”
    “Oh, shit.” I spoke four languages, but sometimes good old-fashioned swearing worked best.
    Johannes Gutenberg had invented the practice of libriomancy around the end of the fifteenth century. Growing