Page 16 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

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I know I’m taking a risk, but there’s no way around it.

I have to tell my brother what’s going on.

Riley’s place is a mess of engineering parts and half-drunk coffee cups, as usual. I’ve been here countless times before, sprawled on the couch and reading a book while he tinkers with some gadget or another, but tonight, my nerves won’t let me sit still.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Riley asks without looking up from his workstation, waving a small tool toward a circuit board. “Does this interface look like something that could actually work, or am I just screwing around at this point?”

“It looks like a pile of junk,” I say, pacing across the room. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replies dryly. “I’ll have you know this ‘pile of junk’ could revolutionize Nyeri’i neural interfaces…or short-circuit an entire server room. Fifty-fifty odds.”

“Great. You’re either a genius or a saboteur,” I mutter, glancing at the cluttered table. “Do you even know what half this stuff is?”

Riley looks up with an exaggeratedly wounded expression. “ Excuse me, this is the very picture of organized chaos. Everything is exactly where I need it to be.”

I scoff, stepping over a stray coffee cup. “Yeah, sure. I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re tearing this place apart looking for a screwdriver.”

I keep pacing, probably annoying the hell out of Riley. I’m partially nervous because of his potential reaction…but also because I’m worried Thorne will freak out. If he hears any of this conversation, he might think I’ve compromised him, even though I’m certain Riley would never tell a soul.

That’s why I’m shielding my mind, per Thorne’s instructions.

I hope it works.

“Alright,” Riley finally says, setting down his tools with a sigh. “You’ve been pacing for ten minutes straight, Page. Either spill or sit down before you wear a hole in my carpet.”

I stop mid-step, hesitating.

How do I even begin to explain this?

“Okay,” I start. “So…remember how I was getting those headaches?”

“Yeah…and you went to a doctor about them.”

I wince. “Not exactly.”

Riley sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “Great…so you just told me you went to a doctor and kept working. I can’t say I’m surprised , but I’m disappointed. I mean, what if it’s something serious?—”

“It’s not,” I interject. “Well, not in any way a doctor can help with.”

“Explain.”

“...because they weren’t headaches.”

He frowns even more deeply. “Okay…I am so confused.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I mutter.

He blows out a breath, rubbing his eyes. “Page, I gotta be honest, you’re freaking me out and you’re also a horrible liar. You may as well just admit there’s more to this?—”

“I’m psychic,” I blurt out.

Riley stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. For a moment, I think he’s going to laugh it off, make some joke about me losing my mind.

But then his brows knit together, and he says, “Psychic. Like…reading minds and stuff? Or are we talking, like, moving objects with your brain?”

“Both,” I admit, my voice smaller than I want it to be. “And it’s not just that. I can sense things…people, emotions, energy. It’s like being plugged into a hundred conversations at once.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” I fold my arms around myself, chewing on my lip. “And it’s been getting stronger. It started with just thoughts here and there, but now…now I’m moving things without even trying.”

His eyes slide to the side…then he nods. “Like the cup.”

I swallow hard. “Yep. Like the cup.”

I resist the urge to search his mind for a meltdown, not wanting to transgress on his privacy. I used to do it instinctively; now that I have control, it’s just hard to resist. Riley sits back, letting out a long breath.

I brace myself.

“Okay,” he says. “So when were you planning on telling me this? After you started levitating furniture? Or when the Psych Department showed up to stick you in a lab?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I mutter. “This isn’t exactly something you just bring up over coffee, Riley. ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I can read minds and move stuff with my brain’.”

“Fair,” he concedes, rubbing a hand over his face. “But still. Psychic powers, Page? What the hell? How is this even possible?”

I hesitate, my stomach twisting as I think about what I have to say next. “Elixir exposure,” I finally admit. “From the Pemberton Disaster.”

Riley’s head jerks up. “Wait, seriously?”

I nod, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “I was exposed to it when I was a kid. A lot of it. I guess it…did something to me.”

“Yeah, but I mean, so was I?—”

“Not the same amount,” I shake my head. “Remember…they found me near the lab, covered in it? You were closer to the edge of the explosion, so I guess…I guess it was just the amount.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, his jaw tightening as he processes this. “So, let me get this straight. The thing that ruined our lives, that took everything from us, also gave you…superpowers?”

“Basically,” I say, my arms dropping to my sides.

Riley lets out a short, bitter laugh. “That’s just great. I mean…not exactly fair though, is it?”

I frown. “Meaning?”

“We could have been a superhero team,” he says. “Seems obvious. Like, your parents die and you get superpowers, I just get a great sense of humor.”

I blow out a breath, smiling in shock. “Man…you can really just handle anything, can’t you?”

He shrugs. “I guess so.”

We go silent, Riley fidgeting with his septum ring, his work forgotten. After a moment, he stands, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “Alright. So you’re psychic, you can move stuff with your mind, and it’s all because of the Elixir. Fine. But shouldn’t you be, like, getting help from a doctor anyway? ”

“No,” I say. “Somebody’s been helping me.”

“Who?”

And there it is. The hardest question to answer.

“His name is Thorne,” I say quietly. “And he um…he lives in the Obscuary.”

He blinks, clearly trying to place the name. “Thorne? Is that…a professor? An archivist? And—hold up. He lives in the Obscuary?”

“Yeah. He’s…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “He’s not officially part of the library. He’s more like…well, I don’t know. The Obscuary is his home.”

Riley stares at me. “Are you telling me you’ve been hanging out with some kind of…ghost librarian? Wait, holy shit, the archive ghost was real?!”

“He’s not a ghost,” I sigh.

“Then what is he?”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose—this is going to be the hardest part to explain.

“He’s Borean,” I admit. “Maybe one of the last alive.”

If I thought Riley looked surprised before, now he’s on some other level. He stares at me, blinking slowly.

I wince. “Did I break you?”

“Just give me a second to process.”

He gets up and strides toward the kitchen, then pulls a bottle of tequila from underneath the counter. I have no idea where he got it—shipping has got to be crazy for liquor from Earth—but he pours two generous shots, sliding one over to me. He doesn’t wait for me to drink to down his and then pour another one.

“Okay,” he rasps, cringing at the taste. “Now you can keep going.”

“Cool,” I say, though I don’t touch my booze. “Like I said, he’s Borean. He’s been alive for centuries. He knows things— about Elixir, about telepaths, about me. He’s helping me control my abilities.”

Riley’s jaw drops. “Page, are you hearing yourself right now? You’ve been spending time alone with some ancient alien guy who isn’t even supposed to exist? And you didn’t think to mention this before?”

“I knew how you’d react,” I shoot back. “I mean, look at you! I don’t want you to drink yourself to death over me. You’re obviously freaking out?—”

“Of course I’m freaking out!” he exclaims. He downs another shot, puts the glass down with a thud, pours another. “This sounds like the beginning of every horror story ever. ‘Oh, hey, let me trust the mysterious, immortal alien living in the spooky library. I’m sure nothing could go wrong’.”

“It’s not like that,” I insist. “Thorne’s been nothing but helpful. He’s teaching me to control my powers, to understand them. He’s the only one who can.”

Riley shakes his head, pacing now. “And what does he get out of this, huh? You think he’s just helping you because he’s nice? Because I’ve got news for you, Page; nobody does that. You and I are both well aware of that fact.”

I flinch at his words, the truth of them hitting too close to home. I would be lying to myself if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind—that maybe Thorne’s kindness is a mask, that he has a darker agenda. But every time I see him, feel his presence, it’s soothing.

“I don’t know, Riley.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “It’s reckless, yeah…but I trust him.”

Riley pauses mid-pace, turning to stare at me. “You trust him,” he repeats, his tone flat.

“Yes,” I say, more firmly than I feel. “He’s the only one who understands what I’m going through. I can feel it when we talk, Riley. He’s not just teaching me—he’s…” I trail off, searching for the right words .

“He’s what?” Riley presses, his eyes narrowing. “Because if you say hot, I swear to God?—”

“Fuck off,” I laugh. Now I do the shot, because maybe Riley’s not totally off the mark. “I can’t explain it. It’s like he knows exactly how to guide me through this. He’s been through things I can’t even imagine, and he’s willing to share that knowledge with me.”

Riley snorts. “Yeah, because sharing ancient alien secrets is definitely something people do out of the goodness of their hearts. Totally no strings attached.”

I groan. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re reckless,” he snaps back. “Page, you’ve been through enough. You’re smart—smarter than me, that’s for damn sure. But this? This is insane. An immortal alien teaching you to harness psychic powers? It sounds like a setup.”

“Maybe it does,” I say, meeting his gaze. “But what choice do I have? My powers are getting stronger, Riley. I can’t ignore them, and I sure as hell can’t go to anyone else. What am I supposed to do, just wait until I lose control and hurt someone?”

His expression softens, and he looks away. “No,” he mutters. “You’re right. You can’t let it get out of control.”

I sigh, walking over to the couch and slumping to a seat. I close my eyes, reaching up to rub my temples. After a moment, Riley sits down across from me, setting his shot glass on the coffee table.

“Okay,” he says, his voice calmer. “If you trust this guy, I’ll trust you. But I want to meet him.”

I blink, taken aback. “You…want to meet Thorne?”

“Yeah,” Riley says, crossing his arms. “If he’s as great as you say, he can handle a little interrogation from your overprotective brother.”

I can’t help but laugh despite the weight of the conversation. “ You? Interrogate an immortal alien?”

“Damn right,” Riley smirks. “Someone’s gotta make sure he’s not leading you down some dark, creepy path to galactic domination.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s a warmth in my chest that I wasn’t expecting. Riley might be a pain in the ass, but he’s still my brother—and he’s trying, in his own chaotic way, to look out for me.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say, shaking my head.

“You better,” he replies. “And Page?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.” He’s serious now, looking me in the eye. “I mean it.”

“I will,” I promise.

I’m not sure how I’ll be able to keep to it though…because Thorne is both more dangerous and more appealing now than ever.