Chapter Five

Casper Weinberg was who Jane should be focused on. Instead, all she could think about was Maura. What had she meant by all hers and for eternity? She banged her pen against her teeth while she pondered that. She could do that now; think. While Maura wasn't in the room it was easier, but something was different.

That first night they'd been introduced, Jane had felt the usual stirrings of interest and not much else. Over lunch, when Maura had touched her, it had sent an electric wave of arousal through her, and she had felt somewhat inclined to just spout out all that she was thinking. But now, as each day passed, it was getting stronger, this consciousness.

Even now, with Maura three floors below her, she could feel it: the need. It was urgent and passionate. If she sat very still, she could swear she could feel Maura's hands all over her, her breath on her neck, fangs gently scraping while she waited…what was she waiting for?

"Hey, Janie. Found anything?" Frankie said, hovering over her desk as he tried to grab a Twinkie.

"Huh? What?!" She blinked several times until he came into focus.

His eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed. "You okay, Jane?"

"Yeah," she said, fidgeting in her seat. "Yeah, what did you say?"

"I said, did you find anything? You've been searching the computer for an hour now…get a lead?"

Her eyes moved to the screen and to the page she had been reading. "Yeah, he uh…" She needed to get a grip. "Librarian, he worked at the BPL."

"Wanna go down and ask around?"

The idea of leaving the building was a good one. The further away from Maura she seemed to get, the more she could concentrate. "Yes. Let's go."

~R&I~

Over 160 years old, the Boston Public Library wasn't that old in comparison to Boston's rich vein of history, but it was a building worth admiring.

It was an architectural masterpiece with its huge stained-glass windows and archways. The detail in the ceiling and the marble staircase made BPD look positively grim. "Some place," Frankie said in awe as they climbed the steps and took it all in.

"Yeah, I wonder if Maura's been here," she pondered aloud.

"I guess, she seems the type."

"Yeah, must have been some place when it was being built."

"You like her, don't you?" Frankie asked with a knowing grin forming.

Jane stopped mid-step and faced him. "Yes, I do. And yes, like that…I like her like that," she said before he asked and embarrassed them both.

He shrugged and carried on up the steps, calling over his shoulder, "That's cool, Janie."

"Yeah, I don't think I'm being given a choice," she mumbled so only she could hear.

She took the last few steps two at a time and met Frankie just as the head librarian came out of her office. She took one look at them and smiled. "Detectives?" Jane held up her badge. "Why don't you come with me, where we can talk more privately?"

When they were safely ensconced inside her office, Jane asked, "What can you tell us about Casper?"

"He was just a lovely man. We're all very shocked here, of course. Casper was your average, friendly…"

"Ghost?" Frankie quipped and received a glare from both women. "Sorry."

"As crass as that joke might be, it was true. Casper was always helpful. He absolutely loved his job; he had a real passion for the Renaissance and the early history of Boston. The colonial era especially."

"And there was nobody that you can think of who would want to hurt him?" Jane asked.

She shook her head. "No, Casper spent all of his time here, down in the vaults with all the ancient texts that we can't display. He was putting a book together about mythical Boston."

Jane felt her hackles rise and goosebumps surge across her skin. "Can we take a look?"

~R&I~

The mansion in Weston was quiet when Maura arrived back. She found Paul lounging in the summer room, his head resting easily against a velvet cushion as he caught up with the news on his tablet.

She coughed politely, alerting him to the fact that she was there, and wondered how he hadn't heard her. Their hearing was so much sharper than that of humans.

He jumped to his feet. "My Queen." Bowing, he kept bent low until she spoke.

"Paul, please. This is your home, I am a guest; therefore you do not need to bow every time I enter a room. It's going to get very tiresome, don't you think?" She smiled and took a seat on the couch opposite him.

He tilted his head in her direction. "Whatever your majesty desires, of course." He reached for the decanter and held it up to her. When she nodded, he poured a generous glass and brought it over to her, placing it down on the silver-plated coaster beside her.

"Thank you." She reached for the glass and took a sip while he took his seat again.

When he was comfortable, he spoke. "I sense that something is on your mind?"

She smiled appreciatively. "You have always been very good at reading people, Paul." She breathed deeply and then exhaled. "Yes, something, or more, someone."

"Ah, our dear friend Detective Rizzoli. Quite the looker."

"Yes, she is somewhat attractive." She chuckled and took another sip. "I…it's there…between us, I feel it very strongly with her."

He sat forward, paying more attention. "The consciousness? With a human?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's never happened before. It's always been…one of us."

"I see, does she know?"

She shook her head, "No, I fudged the truth a little. She noticed it, of course she did. I explained it as similar to lust."

He laughed. "Well, yes. That is definitely part of it."

"Yes, and I have to say that it's becoming harder and harder to ignore the urge to…"

"You should take her. Make her yours, it's your right after all," he said, sitting back and sipping his drink some more.

"No, she has to come willingly. She has to offer it to me. I'll wait."