Chapter 2
Avery
“ I don’t know where to start ….”
I can sense Zosia’s emotions as clearly as my own. She’s worried about time but also wary of the answers she’ll receive.
I’ve trusted the interim library protector since the first time I met him, and I want to validate my intuition. While he answers, I will study the man’s energy and listen carefully to his words. My duty, as her only bonded mate, is to protect Zosia in any way I can. I doubt I’ll remain the only one for long, but our difficult trials have not progressed at a leisurely pace thus far.
“You’re a shifter, but I’ve never seen you shift. Your ring triggered a sense of familiarity the first time I saw it,” Zosia continues. “I know now that all Apocrypha shifters wear one, so it might have been Addington’s in my memories, but ….” She pauses, and her energy pulses with intensity. The swirling colors of her aura fascinate me; she’s truly beautiful.
“You helped me escape the underground compound, didn’t you?”
Several auras pulse with surprise. The rings are as commonplace as the fingers that wear them in the supernatural world – especially when near Apocrypha. For someone who didn’t grow up among supernaturals, Zosia’s recognition and focus on it is understandable. Her leap to the question she asked isn’t.
Ansel’s surprise is nearly as apparent as Zosia’s, and I realize I’m more aware of his emotions than I used to be. My newly forged bond with the library might enhance the connection because of his interim protector status.
“I am a shifter,” Ansel replies, but a tinge of unexpected embarrassment accompanies the words.
I’d heard the rumors about Ansel while I served Dighit, but I’d believed they were envious slander. Many claim he isn’t worthy to work at Apocrypha or the library, but our employer respects him. The library does not see Ansel as an enemy. Other rumors suggest Tremayne sponsored his employment; it was a scandalous idea because mages and shifters rarely cooperate.
“You taught transformation classes before the library took you on.” My voice sounds loud in the brief silence. I’m not usually the one who interrupts the flow of conversation, but I’ve always been interested in this particular rumor.
The sound of chewing stops briefly. I’m certain the noise can be attributed to Garrett; the shifter doesn’t do anything quietly. Although I smell the food, it triggers nausea rather than hunger. Zosia’s amazing blood has ruined me for any other sustenance.
“I did,” Ansel replies easily. He’s grateful for the direction my question offers.
“What’s transformation?” Kodi asks. The ghost is hovering behind Zosia, and his energy meanders back and forth as if he’s swaying in the air. His strange aura stabilized after our nocturnal activities. The opportunity for intimacy with the woman he loves has provided him with a reason to stay.
“Apocrypha has never officially advertised Transformation classes in their curriculum. Sessions were secretive and often private because the Academy caters to the offspring of the wealthiest, most elite supernaturals in the eastern United States. Any student’s involvement was confidential, and the goal of the class was to help shifters transform. I offered classes of a similar nature before coming to Apocrypha and often tutored shifters at a young age. I came here at Tremayne’s behest, and it’s where I met Zosia’s mother.”
Zosia’s aura doesn’t flicker with surprise. We’d already ascertained the two knew each other, but Ansel’s words imply that Zosia’s mother couldn’t shift into her sphinx form.
Ansel continues. “When Karasi reached puberty, it was apparent that she couldn’t shift as easily as most. Have you learned of the tragedy that befell your grandmother yet?”
Silence blankets the table. Zosia might shake her head, but I can’t see it. Her roiling emotions offer me the answer.
“One of your grandmother’s guardians faced an accusation of betrayal. The distressing and traumatic event scarred your mother and affected her ability to shift. She confided in me that she didn’t feel worthy of the legacy entrusted to her. Fear became her constant companion. She dreaded a repeat occurrence after she saw the way it destroyed her mother.”
The raw, ugly truth in his words vibrates through me. Without thought, I abandon my chair and move behind Zosia. One of my hands grips the handle of her chair with fearful strength while the other rests gently upon her shoulder.
I lend her my strength because I know how powerfully this will affect her. While she might accept the truth of my desire and acceptance now that we’re bound, her insecurities still plague her. She worries about the brothers. Her emotions indicate that she longs to touch them, and I offer a mental nudge. I’m uncertain if she’s aware of my interference, but I note the moment their energies merge, indicating that each of them has accepted one of her outstretched hands.
Bren is remarkably still for once, although his energy, like Kodi’s, never truly stills. The physical connection soothes Zosia’s swirling emotions and permits me to sense the library’s shame. I don’t usually sense such human emotions from the building, but this one is clear.
Is this why the guardians’ photos aren’t displayed on the wall? Their images are preserved in a book, but the library doesn’t destroy knowledge for any reason. Did Sage ever plan to tell Zosia about this part of her history? She probably has her reasons.
“My apologies if it seems like I’ve digressed,” Ansel says. “You asked me if I was a shifter. I am. My beast is a red-tailed hawk, which is relatively insignificant as far as shifters are concerned. My animal isn’t the reason why I taught transformation classes or why there are rumors regarding my worth. I am the progeny of a mage and a shifter. They married for love, but my mother’s parents disowned her because of it. Although the practice of interracial marriage has grown more common, there are still those who hold to the old ways. My maternal grandfather possessed influence among the elite and the scandal caused issues for my parents.”
“Doesn’t Addington have a mage wife?” Confusion rings in Zosia’s words, and I don’t blame her.
“Yes, he does,” Garrett replies with a touch of irritation, but it’s not directed toward the sphinx. “The elites are a bunch of hypocrites. Addington’s power allows him to get away with it while simultaneously slandering anyone under him. The magicless and supernatural communities both have a hierarchy with a clear one percent at the top. Also, Addington’s first wife was a shifter. Second marriages are scrutinized less, especially if the spouse dies. I’ve heard it referred to as mourner’s compensation.”
“Garrett is correct, and it’s more accepted now. Because of my impure birth and my maternal grandfather’s influence, many argued my enrollment and eventual employment at Apocrypha. My parents had their own money and connections, however. They got me in, but I was never accepted.”
Is our guest that connection? He’s been quiet as he listens, allowing the conversation to flow around him.
“Because of the horrible memories from my collegiate years, I wasn’t eager to return. Tremayne convinced me, and I found it enjoyable. As you might have noticed today, Apocrypha isn’t the exemplary institution it used to be. It’s a daycare for entitled heirs who seek to build connections and power among their peers. Many of my students weren’t officially enrolled here, but the Academy offered legitimacy to my claims and enabled me to take on more students.”
“I wanted to attend the school for power,” Garrett admits with a grunt. “I thought it was the best way to unseat my father because power is the only thing he understands.” His voice is resentful and angry, and his confession doesn’t surprise us. I am not typically vindictive, but I share his feelings regarding this situation. “And even though Bren’s mother is a mage, Addington was furious that Bren wasn’t born a shifter. He thought his genetics would overpower his wife’s weaker contribution.”
“But it probably wasn’t due to either,” Zosia says in a resigned tone. It’s only right that she should take the lead when telling our guests anything that might be used against us. “Bren was born a mage because of Addington’s manipulation and experiments.”
“Experiments?” Dread coats Ansel’s question while a shroud of sad resignation falls over Tremayne’s energy. If he’s known about this for years and done nothing, it would mean he’s complicit.
“Yes, but I spoke out of turn. Before we explain what we’ve learned, we need to finish the first topic.” Her tone is firm with newly discovered authority as she faces potentially devastating revelations.
Pride fills me, straightening my posture, and my hand on her shoulder shifts from comforting to supportive. She doesn’t need my assistance to stand, figuratively speaking. She needs me to stand beside her.