Chapter 14
Avery
I ’ll never look upon the library’s front doors the same way again. My existence was altered in staggering ways when I walked through them a week ago.
It wasn’t the first time. This building has always provided an escape. While here, I could ignore my condescending master and the slurs the other students hurled in my direction. The library helpfully translated every book into Braille, although I rarely had time to appreciate the gift. Regardless of whether I read or wandered the stacks, the building’s calm energy offered restoration and nourishment. I sorely missed it when the doors were closed.
When I returned, everything changed. Passing through the entrance had been like traveling directly into the sun. It wasn’t all hyperbole; Zosia Abram is my sun. She guides my days, fills my nights with promise, and offers me warmth and life.
The sphinx didn’t know me, but she still took me in without hesitation. She severed the contract I’d been attempting to break for over a decade and rescued me from my servitude.
When she trusted me enough to share her body, another miraculous change occurred. Her spun-gold aura became an extension of mine and my connection to the library blossomed into fruition. Our completed bond isn’t the end but the beginning.
The new tattoo on my back is tangible evidence of what we share, but she’d given me so much more. She’d confronted her deeply held insecurities and permitted me to see every minute of our time together with her unique magic. The scent, taste, and feel of her captivated me, but beholding her pleasure enthralled my heart, mind, and body.
I hadn’t doubted my ability to share her, but I also hadn’t considered every implication. In addition to Zosia’s body, her time and attention are also divided. My yearning to spend every night and every minute with her grew after our intimacy, but today’s events clearly defined the situation. It isn’t just the other men. The library and the world need her too.
Distracted by memories of last night, I’d attempted to pacify myself with the depth of our bond. Our souls are now intertwined; only death or tragic betrayal could break the connection. Every pain or worry she unintentionally shares with me is intensified, and not being able to ease her fears is torturous.
I’d also been privy to her relief when Tremayne confirmed Ansel as her father. The hawk shifter possessed a kind heart, and I hadn’t been surprised at the announcement. He’d been one of the few faculty members to show me kindness.
I also wasn’t shocked by the news that Jonathan Addington had courted Zosia’s mother. The alpha shifter wouldn’t have accepted rejection lightly, and Karasi must have known his ire would extend to her child. Ansel was kind but not powerful, and he’d been correct in assuming he wouldn’t have been able to protect her and their child.
Zosia’s unanswered questions nag me as well. Why did Karasi refuse her birthright and the protections it offered? Did she also fear that one of her mates would break his contract? Zosia now shares this fear, but I don’t understand how any guardian could deny the bond now that I’ve experienced it. Like Atanea, I don’t believe the guardian betrayed her. However, I won’t voice my suspicions unless I find evidence.
The uniquely metallic sound of a dial tone draws my attention. I wouldn’t have recognized the sound if my childhood home hadn’t relied on outdated technology.
“Does the phone come equipped with a speaker? It might benefit all of us to hear the person’s voice.” My question is soft as I gravitate toward Zosia’s golden energy. I can’t stop touching her, but she hasn’t complained yet. The muscles in her shoulders and neck are tight with tension.
“This thing is a dinosaur,” Garrett grumbles. “But I think I got it.” The beep of depressed buttons and the mechanical trill of an answering ring herald his success.
“May I massage your shoulders?” I breathe the question into Zosia’s ear, not wishing to divert Garrett from his task.
The pulse of gratitude in her emotions is the answer I seek. Gently, my fingers coax the knots from her upper body. Her energy suggests that her pain isn’t limited to these areas, but she tends to direct stress to these muscles. As I apply pressure to her tender trigger points, she battles the distracting moans I’d love to hear.
I’d had difficulty not intervening in her earlier conversation with the shifter. Thankfully, Garrett didn’t need my assistance to overcome her objections to the offered massage. Pain isn’t normally considered an emotion, but chronic pain is different. When it’s an integral part of someone’s life, it becomes a pivotal aspect of one’s personality. The library’s struggles impact her caretaker, and this day has been particularly challenging.
Zosia’s hidden agony makes my bones ache with empathic pain. I would willingly lend her my able body in return for my freedom, but it’s not within my capabilities.
Garrett’s irritation permeates his aura as he trudges through the tedious automated prompts until he reaches the bureau. When a gruff human finally answers, all of us, including the library, strain to listen and evaluate.
Sage also fears for Zosia’s planned partner, but she can’t judge the alternate plan’s success; too many unknown variables exist. My intuition suggests that the young mage’s magic is more powerful than the library thought. She couldn’t contain the fierce storm he unleashed that morning, and creating a catastrophe of biblical proportions is not impossible.
“Bureau of Supernatural Phenomenon. How may I assist you?” The barking voice is bored and irritated but otherwise identical to the two detectives we met earlier. Answering phones during the evening shift qualifies as grunt work or punishment, and I don’t recommend trusting this man.
“I need to speak to a detective regarding an open case.” Garrett’s firm tone conveys silent authority but lacks emotion.
A heavy sigh makes the outdated connection crackle with static. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, buddy.”
The familiarizer is blatantly condescending, and Garrett’s displeasure colors his aura. Zosia’s chair jerks as she gestures, but I’m certain I don’t need to see it to interpret it.
The shifter transitions into an alpha within seconds. “Transfer me to Detective Marks.”
I nod in agreement with the request, although I’m uncertain if anyone notices.
The grunt’s answering tone conveys a marked difference. “Detective Marks’ shift is over, Sir, but I’ll transfer you to his voicemail.”
Pack dynamics have always fascinated me. Even through a phone, Garrett can use his alpha nature to elicit the response he seeks. Addington has employed this tactic for decades.
Zosia’s suspicion swings toward disappointment as calming classical music plays over the speakers. “Leaving a message seems like a bad idea.”
Garrett doesn’t have time to answer. Instead of the automated message we expect, a human answers. “You’ve reached Detective Marks.” Although eerily similar to the previous speaker, I identify the voice as the man who had spoken the most during the bureau’s visit. He’d seemed energetic during the earlier interrogation, but his voice is now burdened with bone-deep exhaustion.
“Good evening, Detective Marks. My name is Garrett Kennard. I have a few questions regarding a case you are involved in.”
“Which case?” Although the emotions are slightly altered through the mechanical connection, I sense cautious interest.
“This is my first question. Who are you working for?”
“I work for the Bureau of Supernatural Phenomenon,” Detective Marks replies with a hint of exasperation. Although his answer holds truth, the question was generic.
“Who is paying you for your investigation into Apocrypha Academy’s Hidden Library?” The thread of alpha intensity in this question is readily apparent this time. A shiver of awareness spikes through Zosia’s energy, and I try not to let it distract me. She likes his take-charge attitude despite her stubborn resistance.
“My paycheck from the bureau is the same regardless of the case.” A minuscule suggestion of injured pride bolsters my sense of satisfaction regarding the detective. Zosia nods as well, cautiously optimistic regarding Marks’ loyalty.
Garrett isn’t convinced yet. “Gossip suggests that a few detectives in your department have received bribes or blackmail threats from wealthy and influential benefactors. I need to hear you say you’re not involved before I deliver any further information.”
“My loyalty is to the mission of the BSP first, which is the safety of all Gaian citizens. I seek to protect, not to prosecute, and I’d never accept a bribe or maintain my post in the sway of blackmail.” The insinuation wounds the detective’s pride, but his affront and lack of surprise indicate that he’s aware of the rumors. His answer also offers something we hadn’t requested by implying that detectives are incentivized for convictions instead of risk mitigation.
“I appreciate your truthful answer, Detective Marks.” Although relief saturates his aura, Garrett’s tone maintains its neutrality, and I’m certain his outward appearance follows suit. The ability will be crucial when he becomes the library’s political representative.
“We met earlier today, although I didn’t offer my name today. I am one of the Hidden Library’s guardians. If we did have an atmospheric mage in our ranks, would a contract stipulating that excess magic be siphoned into the library itself be sufficient to ensure the protection of Gaian citizens?”
Addington trained his heir well, whether that was his intention or not. Garrett doesn’t admit to any wrongdoing, he’s careful not to offer names or specifics, and he uses the detective’s own words to remind him of his pledge.
Brief silence greets us as the detective contemplates Garrett’s question. “I require clarification on two points before I can offer you an answer, Mr. Kennard. Firstly, will this contract exist within the library’s sacred book – as a magical oath that can’t be broken without severe consequences? The second question refers to the integrity of the stored magic after the transfer. Can it be stolen or used in any way by those not bound under similar contracts?”
The detective’s questions showcase his cleverness, and a moment of silent communication passes between us. The lack of information on tethers and magic transference makes the process speculative. The clearest answer is that Kodi can’t risk the possibility of being tethered again if Bren succeeds in transferring his magic. I’m also pleased no one seriously considered placing excess magic into an object because it seems this wouldn’t have sufficed.
“Yes – in answer to your first question. The contract will be included in the sacred book of oaths. As to the second question …,” Garrett pauses intentionally. “The magic will become a part of the library, and it will stay safe as long as the library’s safety is maintained. The steps we are suggesting will ensure this outcome, Detective Marks.”
“Very well, Mister Kennard. A contract will be sufficient if the terms are clearly stated. It should say that the magic will be siphoned within x number of days from today and repeated every x number of days as the mage refills their energy stores. Once the library secures the magic that fueled the storm, it will exist outside of the BSP’s jurisdiction, and the mage will no longer be considered a threat. Furthermore, the library’s categorization as a deity with inhuman, and therefore unquestionable, integrity protects it from further prosecution.”
The detective might be preparing a case to appease his superiors, but the words bring relief. Sage seems to exhale in tandem with her librarian. Although it doesn’t remove their worry, the compromise is satisfactory. Bren’s aura is often too frenetic to read, but he also seems encouraged.
The detective continues. “If at all possible, the contract should be written and signed before our return in the morning. It should also dictate a relatively immediate transference, ideally within five days.”
“Your requests are reasonable.” Garrett doesn’t promise to comply because it isn’t his promise to make. Zosia’s body jerks again as she relays something to the shifter. “The library extends her gratitude for your assistance, Detective Marks,” he translates.
“It’s an honor, Mister Kennard.” I expect to hear the detective end the call, but he clears his throat instead. “As my primary duty is to protect supernatural citizens, I feel compelled to offer a warning to the library and her caretakers. The contract does not eliminate all danger. If the Bureau’s integrity is in peril, all must proceed with caution.” An automated dial tone immediately follows his words, and the ancient, unnatural sound adds to the grim warning. Thankfully, Garrett silences the noise with an equally discordant crunch and rattle of plastic and metal.
“That ... that … grr.” Zosia settles for a feline growl as she gathers her thoughts. “He’ll never stop.”
Tension, irritation, and frustration seep back into her body and emotions. I continue to knead her shoulders, attempting to comfort her. “He will not win,” I vow with steely determination and convictions I cannot explain. I’ve felt invincible since I bonded with Zosia. As she bonds with the others, the feeling will grow, and the others will begin to share my confidence. “Our trials are not yet over, but we will defeat him if we remain steadfast.”
“You’re both right,” Garrett confirms as he approaches us. His aura rarely wavers. It remains stable unless he is overly worried about his brother or his mate. Right now, it is clear and resolute. “Addington will fight until he’s dead or his magic is nullified, but our resources give us an advantage. You love to read, right, Zosia? Doesn’t good always triumph over evil?”
Kodi chuckles wryly. “I’ve never considered myself one of the good guys.” The ghost’s energy solidifies more with each passing day, but his emotions remain muddled. Bren’s power might not be necessary for him to maintain a corporeal form for a time, but it will offer added security – if it works.
I understand Kodi’s amusement. I consider myself an honorable, compassionate man, but I’m also a vampire. My species feeds on other species to survive. Therefore, vampires are rarely considered good .
“‘The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of every man,’ said Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.”
“Well … that’s not very reassuring.”
“I wasn’t done yet.” Bren’s tone and aura don’t display the slightest hint of irritation at Kodi’s rude interruption. He has a wealth of patience when his senses aren’t overloaded. “Eric Hoffer said, ‘Compassion alone stands apart from the continuous traffic between good and evil proceeding within us.’ Taking both quotes into account, it means that when we act with kindness and compassion, we become the good guys.” He pauses intentionally to let his borrowed wisdom seek in before his energy spikes with a burst of excitement. If I still harbored doubts regarding his willingness, his aura would erase them.
“Now, where’s the contract book?”
I smile when I realize Bren exemplifies his last quote. How many supernaturals would gleefully surrender such formidable power? Both brothers find satisfaction in obstructing their father’s schemes.
Addington sought to rule the world and he wanted his offspring to aid this endeavor. They chose the opposite, and they might be the deciding factor in the battle’s outcome.
I don’t enjoy the pain of others, but Addington’s demise will be different. The damage he’s perpetrated on my mate and countless others should be served back to him. Since our justice system is not an eye for an eye – or a leg for a leg – I will settle for the exposure of his crimes and the stripping of his power and status. A man with his pride will likely find this a more horrible punishment.