“So, can I go to the library today anyway? I can’t really agree until I know what they want.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Plus, I really want to research–” I stop myself before saying ‘my ghoul heritage.’ “Uh, things.”

“I don’t know.” Zeke slaps on his Mr. Smarmy grin. “We really shouldn’t let you go until everything’s worked out.”

Disappointment lands on my shoulders. “I get it.” I jam my hands into the pockets of my sweats. “I’ll head home.” I turn toward Betsy.

Cissy grabs my arm. “No, you can still use the library.” She starts blinking madly, a sugary grin forced onto her face.

Uh-uh. Cissy’s working some angle here.

Zeke wraps his arm around her shoulder and winks. “Of course! Mom and Dad said it was fine, just for today. Only promise to stay in the library. No roaming around.”

I eye their forced chipper-ness carefully. They’re definitely up to something. I shrug. What do I care? I want intel and now I can get it. “I’ll stay in the library, no problem.”

Cissy opens the front door with a long creak; then she gestures toward the West Wing. “See you later.”

“Have fun, you two.” I speed down the West Wing hallway and up to the fourth floor library. Stepping out of the stairwell, I’m greeted by the familiar labyrinth of tall wooden bookcases. I wind my way through the maze of shelves, finding the ghoul section in the far right corner. After scanning a few dusty volumes, I find the Libra Ghoul.

My muscles tighten with nervous energy. Here’s the master encyclopedia on all things ghoul-ish. I pull down the four-inch thick book and eye the hefty leather binding. Across the cover, a hundred ghouls are listed as authors, their letters and numbers all in glittering gold script.

I haul the Libra Ghoul over to my favorite window seat. I sit down, open the book, scan the index, and find the section on ghoul half-breeds, reading:

Ghouls may mate with creatures from other realms. The offspring will appear in human form throughout their mortal lives, a phase which is known as the larvae stage.

I stick out my tongue. Yuck, I’m a larvae right now.

Upon death, the larvae mature into their wondrous ghoul form. In their mortal state, half-breeds are notorious for failing to follow rules and procedures. Once dead, however, they develop a natural appreciation for Group Think and process.

Whoa. I’ll turn into some rule-loving nincompoop one day. I shiver, fight the sense of nausea in my stomach, and return my attention to the book. A section called Group Think catches my eye.