"Roman Lupin," the werewolf replied absently, staring at the shelves again. "I work at the front desk - perhaps you called one night. Not that it matters."

He shook his head, feeling the unkempt strands brush his forehead with chagrin. "No, there's not even an index for them. Believe me, I've looked. What sort of research are you doing that requires books on fiends, Loki Lyesmith?"