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He waved a finger toward a dark corner. “There’s a desk in the corner there you can use. Or you’re welcome to go to my nest if you’d like a comfier seat.”

“I’ll stay here for now in case I need another reference,” Paige answered as she scurried to the chair and dropped into it.

She flicked on the lamp on the desk’s top and plunked the book down on the worn surface. Paige adjusted the lamp’s shade before hefting the thick book open and scanning the contents.

With her eyebrows raised, she blinked twice as she scanned the listing. With a rub of her forehead, she flipped to the index and scanned the Ws for werewolf.

Her mind struggled to process the list of creatures under W, ranging from Wyvern to Werecat. She found the entry for werewolves. The term appeared on several pages.

She yanked the drawer open in search of paper to jot down the pages. Finding none, she spun to glance at Dewey. He’d dragged a stool to the BookTron where he clacked away on the keys.

She had a notebook in her tote. She’d left it in Dewey’s nest, she realized.

“I’m just going to run up for my tote. I left it by your chair.”

“You don’t need to ask,” Dewey assured her with a distracted wave. His clacking slowed as Paige passed him, and he twisted to face her. “Oh, Paige?”

“Yeah?” she said, spinning to eye him.

“Thanks for taking the case. I thought you’d turn it down, and a chance like this… The chance to resolve a red alert, well, it doesn’t come along every day.” He opened his teal lips in a wide grin.

“I hope we can pull it off!” Paige hurried through the stacks toward Dewey’s nest, surprised she remembered the way and didn’t get lost wandering aimlessly.

Instead, her mind dwelled on the “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunity. Had she been foolish to so readily accept it?

Too late now, her mind added as she mounted the first step to the nest high above. She’d just need to work extra hard to ensure an acceptable outcome.

She reached the top, puffing for breath as she crossed to the armchair.

“Whew, I really need to get in shape,” she murmured as she snatched her bag. “You’d think all those steps at my apartment would help.”

She hurried down the stairs with the bag slung over her arm and settled back at the desk. After jotting down the page numbers, she flicked to the first reference and began scanning it.

“An entire chapter devoted to werewolves,” she breathed as she turned to a new page in her notebook and prepared to take notes.

Across the space, Dewey flitted between the bookshelf and the BookTron, amassing a stack of references. Paige returned her attention to the book in front of her.

The chapter detailed the commonalities shared by all werewolves, stating that while they appeared human-like on most occasions, they had the ability to transform into wolf-like creatures.

Depending on the origin of the wolf, some remained bipedal during the transformation, while others were quadrupeds.

Paige scrawled a note about this in her notebook before chewing on the end of her pen. Not only were there werewolves, but there were different types of werewolves.

She blinked rapidly as she considered the secrets hidden in plain sight. She pressed on in her research, learning more about the differences between each species of werewolf, their origins, and their physical characteristics.

The common folklore surrounding werewolves, in many instances, proved true, but in some instances was false. The overriding assumption that cycles of the moon dictated their transformation only applied to a specific species of bipedal werewolves.

In most other instances, transformation could be somewhat controlled, similar to a shapeshifter. However, in one specific species, transformation could occur at random moments and might not be controllable by any means. These species lived in the mountainous regions of China, a location almost entirely devoid of humans.

“This is incredible,” Paige whispered as she continued to jot notes.

She continued her note-taking, trying to focus on information that could prove lifesaving in the event that she encountered one of these creatures face-to-face or that might aid them in their search for the artifact.

She had little idea how this would unfold, but she figured a good understanding of the general species would be the least she needed to scrape by. As she scrawled a note about their silver allergy, she pondered if she would, indeed, come face-to-face with one.

What a frightening thought. Her mind conjured the image of her standing somewhere in a wooded area, a full moon shining overhead, a hairy beast in front of her. It snarled, teeth bared. Saliva dripped from sharp fangs. Blood stained the fur around its mouth and on its paws. It had killed before.

And it would kill again.