Page 9 of Booked for Theft (Vigilante Magical Librarians #3)

NINE

“I have humiliated myself, that’s what I’ve done.”

My appointment went well, and outside needing to do a few new foot exercises to continue strengthening the muscles in my feet and ankles, I was declared healthy. In order to dodge politicians, we spent as much time as possible outside of the White House. Making use of my Smithsonian journal and new pens, I went on a rampage in the Library of Congress, poking my nose in a plethora of books in a search for a single reference on what year 0 MR was in the old calendar system.

I had no luck, but I did manage to get a rough timeline, in the old calendar system, of how everything fell apart, and there were even a few indications that the American people had noticed, but they had noticed when it was too late to stop the gears of treachery from turning.

When I wasn’t attempting to ferret out the downfall of the United States, I hunted for old texts on the Roman Empire, and I expanded my efforts to include Greek architecture as well.

If anyone did try to ferret out my intentions through my activities, they would find nothing but chaos and disorder, with no apparent method to the madness. If they got their hands on my journal, they would discover the truth, as I’d only given myself five pages in the back for ancient history while the rest of it was neatly organized by era in the old calendar system.

On Friday night, we attended a more official dinner, where a bunch of politicians, the President of the United States, the First Lady, and a few diplomats from abroad put on a show.

In some ways, the gathering reminded me of a pool of sharks in chummed water.

In one of the lulls, where all the bigwigs were far away from us, I leaned over to Bradley and whispered, “Please tell me we’re just an addition to this party.”

“We are,” he confirmed, grinning at me. “There are three heads of state present tonight, and President Castillo thought it would be nice to invite us since we aren’t leaving until tomorrow.”

“I think I missed their introductions,” I confessed.

“Remember the wily old man who struck up a conversation about the perils of antique books and their restoration?”

“Oh, yes. That was the one conversation I’ve had so far tonight that actually made sense to me. I like that guy.”

“That guy is the President of Germany, Eckhart Neumann. Do not be surprised if a package arrives at our home. One of his security members asked for my business card while you were chatting with him.”

I sucked in a breath. “I was just talking to him with his name! He told me his name, Bradley. He didn’t attach anything to it, he just said his name was Eckhart.”

My fiancé grinned at me. “You also spoke to a Spanish diplomat about spicy food.”

“I have humiliated myself, that’s what I’ve done.”

“You really haven’t. Politicians enjoy when people treat them like they’re people rather than their station. I’m sure they think you’re a breath of fresh air. I also gave one of his security members a copy of my business card. That one told me they have a policy of offering gifts in situations like yours, and you can expect something small as a token of their gratitude.”

“But I haven’t done anything for them.”

“No, but you demonstrated great compassion, and this is important to them. It’s all a part of the political show being put on here tonight. Because President Castillo is honoring you through your inclusion, the diplomats and heads of state are following his lead. You can expect things like bathing goods and little consumable luxury items. I’ve answered more questions about allergies, scent preferences, and our bathtub than I expected.”

I giggled at that. “What time are we being set free?”

Bradley checked his watch. “By nine. There will be a driver to take us to the hospital at two, then we’ll swing by the bookstore on the way home. You’ll sleep in the car until we get to your parents’ place, and I’ll catch a nap before our engagement party planning starts up. Dad’s going to handle safeguarding our precious finds while we’re dealing with the party planning and clothing shopping. Mom’s handling which stores we’ll be going to, as we weren’t home to make the arrangements.”

That was something. “And everyone can make it to the planning?”

“Everyone will be there. I asked my mother to acquire a special journal for you to take notes. You can use your dinosaur pen as an expression of your opinion on dated traditions.”

As laughter tended to draw unwanted attention, I clamped my lips together, fighting the urge to snicker over his commentary. Once I contained my mirth, I said, “You know what? I think I will.”

“If you want some good entertainment, watch the Italian diplomat. That woman lives to tweak President Castillo’s nose, and she’s been yanking his chain all night long. She asked if he’s the kind to put pasta in a blender, trying to make dough.”

It took every scrap of will to keep from howling my laughter over the situation. “I saw a video of that, and it had Italians reacting to it. One fainted. I’m determined to learn how to make pasta from scratch now. It can’t be that hard, or so said the Italians. I mean, it’s basically just flour and eggs, right?”

“If you want to make a mess of our kitchen trying to make noodles from scratch, I’ll even help you clean up. We will use jarred sauce for our first experiments. I’m not sure either one of us is ready to try homemade sauce.”

I nodded. “Trying to make the noodles from scratch seems like a safe start.”

“Once we conquer the noodles, we will attempt the sauce, and then we’ll bring our parents over to our place and feed them.”

Would our parents survive? “This sounds like a bad idea, Bradley.”

“We’ll have a backup roast in the refrigerator, and we’ll make your mother make it for us after we fail at our pasta and sauce meal.”

Somehow, I kept from chortling over his plan, which had a high probability of working. “Or we could buy the roast, summon our parents, and threaten to make them homemade pasta and sauce. We can terrify all four of them in one go. And at least one will vote to take the risk of eating our cooking. That’s my mother, for the record. Yours will get mad because she has diabetes and shouldn’t have pasta, but she’ll want it, eat it anyway, and then get in trouble. Our fathers will vote to have the roast, as they value their lives. Our mothers will override them, and we’ll all be stuck with our meal. And my mother will start making the roast, understanding we will need sustenance.”

“And that is when we shock them all with our ability to make good Italian food.”

“Where is this Italian diplomat? I’m feeling brave and bold tonight.”

Bradley pointed at a woman who was engaging with President Castillo in a conversation. As the pair was out of their seats and people mingled, I assumed a security guard would stop me if I screwed things up royally. I kissed Bradley’s cheek before saying, “Wish me luck, I’m going in.”

“Operation: Pasta is a go,” he replied, and he grinned at me. “Good luck. I will sit here, where I will be surely ambushed by someone the instant they realize you left me unattended.”

“That’s your fault for being the most handsome man in the room.” Before he had a chance to reply, I angled for the Italian diplomat.

Before I had to worry about how to edge in on the conversation, President Castillo waved me over. “Janette, Ambassador Greco was just mentioning her book collection, and I was about to recommend she speak to you.”

I wasn’t sure which one of us was more relieved: her or me. I held out my hand. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet a fellow book lover, Ambassador.”

“Ginevra.” She smiled and shook with me. “I just recently came across an original Encyclopedia Britannica set. I just had them restored, and it’s fascinating seeing how science has changed since they were written. It’s also interesting being able to identify the oddities that we now know were magic but hadn’t been identified as such. President Castillo mentioned that you’re a librarian?”

“I am.” Aware Italy had helped Senator Thaddens get his videos recorded, I was determined to cultivate a friendship with the Ambassador come hell or high water. “I would love to visit Italy one day. The Roman Empire and its architecture interest me.”

Ginevra’s expression brightened. “Do you have a favorite landmark?”

“Not yet, but my first plan, after reviewing all of them, is to pick one. I’m quite interested in the Pantheon. Is it true that Emperor Hadrian held significant responsibility for its construction?” I dug around in my ancient history and wondered if a tidbit I’d learned was accurate. “It was built on top of the ruins of a previous building, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Agrippa’s Pantheon burned, and Hadrian had the current one built in its place. Some parts of Agrippa’s Pantheon remain, including the inscription for the temple, which was preserved during the rebuild. How delightful. Most don’t bother learning about such ancient history.”

President Castillo fled, returning to his table and taking shelter with his wife.

The ambassador muttered something in Italian before shaking her head.

“I take it he’s not interested in history.”

“He really isn’t.” The woman reached into her purse, dug out a business card, and offered it to me. “If you like the Roman Empire, there is a great set of modern texts that cover its rise and fall. I’d love to send you a copy, and I can include some notes on my favorite areas of study.”

I took the card and grinned at her. “I’d love that. If you have a moment, I’ll introduce you to my fiancé. He has business cards.”

“Of course. That’s ideal. Also, I wanted to thank you for making certain that Senator Thaddens was treated with care and respect after his death. I had the pleasure of meeting with him when he came to Italy recently, and we spent many an hour talking. Organ donation was one of his priorities. Is it true there was nothing that could be done for him?”

I nodded. “He had cancer engulfing his heart, which restricted his heartbeat and ultimately led to his heart attack and death. There was also cancer in his heart, which limited blood flow.”

She relaxed, and after she sighed, she nodded. “I wasn’t even aware we could suffer from heart cancer.”

“I wasn’t really, either. I’ll be making a point of checking now that I know what to look for. I can’t detect it as easily as I can something like diabetes, though. It doesn’t really influence the blood, so I have to look for it specifically.”

“Yes, President Castillo had made a mention you’d said that. He was taken aback over how many restrictions you have even with your aptitude.”

“If it was a cancer of the blood, I would have been able to detect it. I can purge the cancerous cells quite easily. It’s a mix of exsanguination and mending, apparently. The mending ability got lost in the noise, I guess.”

“I can understand how that might happen.” The ambassador accompanied me back to our table and smiled at Bradley. “You’re an extraordinarily lucky man, Mr. Hampton.”

Bradley, who’d been gifted a few moments of peace from the political sharks, returned her smile. “I am. Thank you, Ambassador Greco. Has Janette asked you about pasta and sauce yet?”

“No, she hasn’t.”

“We would like to see if we can learn how to make noodles and a basic sauce without killing our family members, as we are both rather inept at cooking. We figured if an Italian couldn’t point us in the right direction, there truly is no hope for either of us.”

Ambassador Greco laughed. “Please give me your business card, and I will see about sending help so that even you can make a nutritious and delicious meal. I have several one pan dishes that are excellent for beginners. If you can follow simple directions, you will be able to make this. I even have an excellent risotto recipe designed for those who are a little busy and don’t have a lot of time to cook. Just don’t tell any of my fellow Italians that; it might count as blasphemy. Why spend hours slaving over the stove when I can spend ten minutes, pop it in the oven, and spend five more minutes once it’s mostly done?”

“She speaks my language, Bradley. We need this recipe, and we need to try it alone before we shock my mother. We’ll target her first. She lost hope long ago. And if I can make the risotto all by myself? She may faint.”

“I’ve been learning some Spanish cooking, but I’m limited to two dishes right now. Fortunately, we like those dishes, so it works out, but I’d like to up my arsenal to three dishes.”

“I am confident I can help you get up to four dishes. If you like soup, I can teach you three simple meals that satisfy every time.”

“We should master one or two simple dishes from every country, Bradley. Maybe we won’t ever graduate to doing anything difficult , but we will be diverse . And we can find one that is spicy. Do Italians like spicy food?”

“We have a few spicy dishes, but I think I will help teach you the art of making arrabbiata. That dish comes down to us from the Romans, and it is one of our spicier offerings. I am sure, with some experiment, I can find a way to make it spicier for you without increasing the difficulty level of making it. It will be an excellent challenge for me to create a recipe simple enough for you to follow. Do wait for my email, Mr. Hampton. I will share a few of my family secrets with you. May my nonna forgive me for what I do. But I’m sure she would be pleased with my efforts to spread the true way of cooking to those in dire need. At the very least, she would approve of my rebellion.” She grinned, sliding Bradley’s card into her purse. “Should you two ever decide to travel, I would love to welcome you to my country and show you her wonders. I love visiting Rome. I learn something new every time I step foot within her.”

I sighed at the thought of Rome. “We should try to go to Rome one day, Bradley. It would be the adventure of a lifetime.”

“You might even, may my ancestors forgive me for uttering this, pay a visit to Greece and partake of their ruins as well.”

I attempted to stare Bradley into submission. “We should do both, and we can stir shit with the Italians and the Greeks for the entertainment of it.”

Ambassador Greco chuckled over my commentary. “That might work if you get us into the same room while you debate which of our ruins are superior. Personally, if I were to make any commentary about the Greeks, I would show favor to the Spartans. Their brutality was matched only by their cunning, and I hold much respect for their history. Some elements of it are distasteful, but they added a great deal of color to world history.”

“I don’t think I have any history books about the Spartans, Bradley.”

“I’ll see about some books for your enjoyment, and we’ll talk about a trip overseas to visit the ruins. I’d like that, too.”

I doubted either one of us would be able to escape from the United States, not with our government tightening the noose around us, but I would maintain the illusion that I believed I could, something anyone watching would expect.

Americans often talked big about where we wished to go, and then we stayed home. The size of our continent played a role in that. Why travel overseas when we had a nation as large as ours to explore?

That sort of attitude likely had something to do with our current situation.

The Italian woman sighed. “I will leave you to your far more pleasant discussion of trotting around the world. I see my next adversary, a foe not even I can defeat.”

I followed her gaze to discover the dinner portion of the party was about to save us all. “They have no hope of defeating me. I’m a stomach with feet. The only way they’re taking me out is with tiny portions and the wish for more food, and honestly, I expect to be looking for the nearest open fast food joint when we escape Washington in the wee hours of the morning.”

“I truly wish you the best of luck. Expect starvation. These weak American chefs know nothing about how to serve a real group meal.”

That I could believe. “Just for the record, I’m very interested in seeing what a real group meal is like in Italy.”

“It’s a marvel and a delight, and I do hope you’ll get to come see me in my country so you might enjoy it one day.”

Thanks to the cameras installed in my SUV, we had evidence that members of the Secret Service had bugged my vehicle. Not only was I aware it’d been bugged, but they’d been placed in such a fashion that I suspected they were audio, video, and GPS enabled. After identifying where they’d all been placed through the usage of our footage, I prepared a text to Bradley suggesting he should get some mud on the tires of my baby, showing him my phone before erasing the evidence.

It had rained an hour north of us, and there would be mud aplenty should we leave the main road.

A little after three in the morning, he opted to take every single scenic route he could find, even locating a muddy unpaved stretch of road leading into a state park.

Then he played at getting a flat while I removed the trackers with a pocketknife we kept in the glovebox, all of which had been secured with glue. The trackers went into a bag, and after we did a full check of the vehicle, we left.

Once in New York, we stopped at a rest area, tossed the trackers into the bed of a pickup truck with New York plates, and resumed our journey.

“That was pretty bold even for them. I wonder what they’re going to think when their trackers disappear,” Bradley muttered.

“They’re going to have questions, and if anyone is smart, they’ll remember that your father runs a security company and has been teaching you his tricks. We won’t tell anyone we suspect the government tried to track us, and if you are asked, well, I’ve been kidnapped before, and you’re determined to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Well, they can’t catch us in a lie. Everything about that is true. My father has been teaching me to sweep our vehicles, and he’s been planting bugs on them for me to find, so I’m just behaving normally.”

“Please tell me there haven’t been any new bugs.”

Bradley refused to even glance my way while we headed for the inside of the rest area to grab a bite to eat.

“Bradley,” I complained.

“They try once a week, and I remove them when I get to the vehicle. It used to be every other day, but I think they lessened the frequency in the hopes I will lower my guard. I won’t, for the record.”

I sighed and wondered what sort of hell I’d stepped into. “You better just get me three cheeseburgers with bacon. I’m going to be eating my feelings for a while.”

“How about I get you four and some fries? Dinner was barely a snack for me , and your stomach started cursing at you twenty minutes ago.”

Damn it. “I’m not responsible for what my stomach says this late at night.”

He laughed at me. “It’s okay. I’ll feed you, and then you can pass out. If you don’t wake up by the time we get to your parents’ place, I will enjoy treating you like an imperiled princess, carrying you in.”

“There is no way in hell I’m going to be asleep when we get there,” I muttered. “There will be no more carrying of my person. My person has been carried sufficiently for one lifetime.”

“Maybe I should get you five burgers, that way, I might get one.”

“You better get six, else you really might starve.”

“I’m getting a big one for myself, with cheese, and I will eat it before you can stop me.”

As the medications he’d been given worked, and he no longer risked unpleasant trips to the bathroom, I nodded. “You better ask for extra cheese to make up for lost time.”

“That’s a good idea. I think I will do that. You have the best ideas. Anything else?”

I pointed at the general store and gift shop, which was open and waiting for me to purchase something. “I could use a new travel mug to honor the time I was heavily exposed to politicians and wasn’t shot, kidnapped, or otherwise injured.”

“Wasn’t your pride felled at least four times?”

“That doesn’t count due to rapid recovery times.”

“I’ll let you have it. And anyway, once we get home, you have to put your new book babies on their shelf, keeping your Roman codices company.”

“That shelf is going to be dedicated to all things ancient and beautiful,” I informed him, giggling over how I’d inevitably pamper my precious books. “You better take care of that music. If that gets damaged, I will perish from horror. I know how much you spent, and I’m horrified. But if you have the money, it’s your money, and you can spend it however you want. And it makes us even, as my first books cost a lot.”

“I wasn’t counting them, nor am I counting any books you are given.”

Shit. The memory of Emma telling me she had more books coming my way would cause significant problems come Sunday, as President Castillo had moved forward with Bradley’s suggestion to contact the cathedral. His selflessness, his wife’s immediate confirmation to donate his organs for transplant, and his quiet faith had won him a funeral in the historic building despite not being a member of their parish. “When Emma hands me some books, be ready. I will cry.”

“Ah. She told you she was giving you a few more of his books?”

“Yes. He loved how much I loved his old books, and he wanted me to have them. He’d already notified his attorney to adjust the will.”

“He was not one to stand idle. It’ll be all right, Janette. When you cry, I’ll provide a handkerchief and a shoulder. I’ll bring extras. We’ll probably need them, because I don’t think any of us are getting out of this without tears. There aren’t many good men left, and we just lost one of them.”

That we had. All I could do was hope that the few good men—and women—left would be able to change the world for the better.