Joan Undone

Chapter 13

On the way back to my dorm, my phone buzzes with a message from Justus.

Meet me?

It's probably stupid to go back out onto the streets after my run-in with Sergeant Wong, but my ability to say no to Justus is limited. He sends me coordinates to somewhere in an old part of Seattle that's only a couple of miles from school.

Jogging through the cooling evening air, the junk crowding my mind blows away, for now. The familiar, giddy anticipation that always fills me when I'm about to meet Justus alone is a pleasant distraction from imagining Gavyn being processed at the police station. How long before his fate will be sealed?

I stop in front of an ancient library that has boards nailed across the doors and windows.

Justus stands under a streetlamp in a white T-shirt, his shaggy hair curling in the humid air. His arresting eyes are alight with a mischief that has been missing for too long. My curiosity stirs. I'd almost forgotten how it feels to anticipate something fun.

"You take me to the nicest places," I quip, and he grins.

"Give me a chance," he says, holding out a hand.

Interlacing my fingers with his, a frisson of energy goes through my body, like when I hear one of my favorite songs. Justus has mostly avoided physical contact with me since he discovered his Status, but tonight, he tugs me closer and stares at our connected hands.

"This is such a bad idea, but I can't help it," he says.

"You can't kill me by holding my hand," I say, squeezing his tighter. "Now tell me where you brought me."

"My dad found a new place to hold meetings with his team that's out of the public eye," Justus says. "I stole one of his keys to this place."

"You're bringing up your dad right now? Has anyone ever told you that you have a gift for killing the mood?"

Justus laughs. "Come on."

We go to the side of the building, and Justus pulls a rusty metal key out of his pocket, the kind people used in the old days to keep doors locked. He shoves it in the lock and turns it, and the door opens.

"No way! It works? I've never seen one of those outside of a museum," I say, touching the slim metal key reverently.

"The key is not the exciting part," Justus says, trying to control his smile.

"Right. Lead on."

Justus tugs me down several flights of stairs. We walk through a long hall, and he flicks on light switches as he goes. Dim yellow light reveals an ancient hallway with peeling wallpaper covered in faded flowers. At the end of the hall, Justus throws open a door.

Like a girl in a cheesy video, I gasp at the sight before me. The room has low ceilings, and is filled with row after row of shelves packed with physical books. It's a hundred times bigger than Crew's tiny library in the back of the Little Theater, and glass doesn't seal away the ancient tomes, like it would at a museum or a library.

It smells musty, and a thick layer of dust blankets everything. But so many books in one place, undisturbed... It's like seeing an animal prowling through the middle of the city that you thought had gone extinct. The number of trees that had to be cut down to create the books in this room boggles my mind.

"You can touch them," Justus says.

I approach the nearest shelf, and gently wipe away the dust to read the spines.

"They're encyclopedias," Justus explains. "In the old days, people would create books full of every topic. You can read about wars, animals, the stars, history."