Jacob Stone believed in magic. Now more then ever since coming to work in the Library. But in a way, he'd always believed. He always thought his mother had believed too. The mother who had secretly encouraged his love of art, had told him fairy stories when he was a child and was the only one who knew about his secret life. Or at least until the Library had found him out.

His mother was gone now. Standing in his favorite alcove in the annex, he shook thoughts of her out of his mind. Instead focusing on the one time prior to the Library that he was sure he was in the presence of magic.

Two years ago, he'd taken a summer job working on a refinery in New Orleans. It was a perfect gig, plenty of time to indulge his love of artwork and museums on his time off. His co-workers must have thought he was strange as he chose to never hang out with them. One night he was out wandering the city as he'd gotten in the habit of doing when a shop caught his eye. He was certain that he'd passed it several times in his wanderings and had never noticed it before.

"Fortunes Told" had been one of the signs out front. He'd chuckled a little intending on passing the shop by. But instead he found himself pushing the door open and going inside.

"What the?"

"Evening," a woman's voice said from behind the counter. She was not dressed like he'd imagined a fortune teller would be. Her skin was the color of copper and her hair wasn't much different. She was wearing a tee shirt that said New Orleans and a pair of jeans. The only thing stereotypically fortune teller about her where her long dangling earrings. "Did you come to have your fortune told?"

"I . . ." He scratched his head. "What the hell, why not?"

"A skeptic, I see." She smiled at him.

"Not really, I just didn't intend to, well never mind, how much?"

She grinned. "How about $10?"

"That's all?"

"Don't push your luck Mr. Stone."

"Wait, how?"

"Fortune teller. " She held out her hand, "Ten dollars."

"Yeah sure," He grabbed his wallet and put a ten dollar bill in the woman's outstretched palm.

"Good, come this way."

She led him through a beaded curtain, at least that lived up to his expectations, into a smaller room with a table and two chairs. She motioned for him to sit down.

"So are you goin' to read my palm?"

"Please," The woman huffed.

"Crystal ball?"

"Just stop." She grabbed a heavy book off of a shelf and set it on the table. She flipped to a section, "Let's see Stone, Stone, here we are Jacob Stone."

Jake shifted uncomfortably, how did she know his name?

"Hmm," The woman hummed. "Bit of a dual life you've got going on Mr. Stone."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, I ain't got no double life."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Drop the dumb cowboy act Mr. Stone. It's not becoming."

"Fine, what else does your book say?"

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that in two years time, you'll be offered your dream job."

Jake grunted, "And I'll turn it down."

She shook her head. "Not this time. This job will need both parts of you, the cowboy and the historian. You'll love it. And you'll be able to provide for your family without them being the wiser."

"Huh." Jake looked at her. "Anything else?"

"Well there's only so much that ten dollars will get you. But since I like your face, I'll give you one last thing. You'll meet a girl. A quirky little red head who is as desperate to be understood as you are. She'll get under your skin like no one else ever has or ever will."

"Well that actually sounds kinda nice."

She smiled a little sadly. "It does. Except, well . . ."

"Well what? She lets me down like everyone else?"

"In a way, but I really, it's dangerous to know too much about your future. "

"Don't give me that, I'll give you more money, what happens?"

"I won't take it. Just know that the rocky road you have ahead of you is worth it. You won't be able to help how you feel about her. So protect her. She's a bit, well magic."

"Magic as in magic? Or the figure of speech?"

The fortune teller only smiled at him. "Your time is up Jacob Stone."

She walked him out and as he was leaving, as confused as he had been when he walked in, she whispered, "Just let her in Stone, let her in."

He turned around to ask one more question and realized that the shop wasn't behind him anymore.

"What the hell?"

He spun around twice, but the entrance behind him had seemingly changed. Every evening for the rest of the summer, he took a walk past where the shop had been and seen nothing.

If it wasn't for the money that wasn't in his wallet, it would be like it had never existed.

He'd tried to put the whole strange business out of his mind. Until ninjas stormed his watering hole, he'd met Baird and gotten pulled into this strange world of danger and magic. The fortune teller had been right. He'd never realized that being a librarian would have been his dream job but from the get go he'd needed both sides of his life. And the quirky little redhead . . .

He watched Cassandra skipping across the floor downstairs, excitedly talking to an only slightly annoyed Jenkins.

She'd done exactly what the fortune teller had said, she'd gotten under his skin, almost immediately. He didn't believe in love at first sight, at least that's what he firmly had told himself. But that hadn't stopped his heart from breaking so damn hard twice in the same week. Once when he'd found out that she had a ticking time bomb in her head and then when she sold them out.

Part of him wanted to forgive her like the others had. She was dying, she was being used, lied to, manipulated. She gave up essentially her life to save Flynn's.

She still was under his skin. Every moment, he couldn't help himself, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He wanted to protect her and lord knows he was the only one who could calm her. He knew her so well because unlike him she was an open book.

And lord knows he couldn't pretend he hadn't felt something when she was prancing around half dressed. He might have actually been jealous of those girls commanding Prince Charming's attention as well.

Then there was that emotion that he refused to name. The one that sometimes made him breathless around her and all too often made him smile at her like a damn fool. That made him feel so warm inside when she looked at him like she felt it too.

Downstairs, Cassandra lifted her head up and smiled at him. He knew the grin he gave her back was that one he'd labeled besotted fool.

The fortune teller's last words echoed in his head . . . .

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let her in.

Maybe he could let her in.

Because she was a little bit magic.

And if there was nothing else Jacob Stone believed in. It was magic.

He turned and headed toward the stairs.