Chapter 15
Tess
My stomach dropped. I'd hoped those incidents weren't common knowledge. "Oh, that," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's nothing, really. Just a few... misunderstandings."
Pippa's eyes narrowed. "Tess, bullying isn't a misunderstanding. Is someone making you feel unwelcome here because you're human?"
I sighed, pushing my half-eaten pancakes around on my plate. "It's not everyone. Most people have been wonderful. It's just... there are a few who seem to think humans don't belong at the Library."
As I said this, a memory from earlier in the week surfaced. I had been cataloging a new shipment of texts when Aurelia swept into the room, her emerald eyes glinting with disdain.
"Oh, dear," she had said, her voice dripping with false concern. "I'm afraid you've made quite a mess of things here."
Before I could respond, she had waved her hand, and the carefully organized piles of books I'd spent hours arranging suddenly shuffled themselves into complete disarray.
"These are delicate magical texts," Aurelia had sniffed. "They require a... special touch. Perhaps you'd be better suited to simpler tasks? I hear the Drakehaven public library is always looking for help shelving children's books."
The memory stung, and I felt my cheeks flush. And when I thought of how some of the applicants treated me—
"That's completely unacceptable," Pippa's voice brought me back to the present. "Have you reported this to anyone?"
I shook my head. "I don't want to make waves. I'm still new here, and I don't want to be seen as a troublemaker."
Pippa reached out and took my hand. "Tess, standing up for yourself doesn't make you a troublemaker. You have every right to be here and to feel safe and respected in your workplace."
"I know," I said softly. "It's just... complicated. I'm trying to handle it on my own."
"And how's that working out for you?" Pippa asked, her eyebrow raised.
I couldn't meet her eyes. "Not great," I admitted.
Pippa squeezed my hand. "Look, I know it's not easy being the newcomer, especially when you're different. But you don't have to face this alone. Have you talked to Moriyana about this?"
The thought made me squirm uncomfortably. "No, I... I don't want her to think I can't handle myself."
"Oh, honey," Pippa said, her voice softening. "Asking for help doesn't make you weak. It makes you smart. She'd want to know if someone was treating you badly."
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I'll think about it," I promised.
"Good," Pippa said. "And remember, I'm here for you too. If you ever need to talk or if you want me to go all mama bear on someone, just say the word."
For the first time since the conversation took this turn, I felt a genuine smile spread across my face. "Thanks, Pippa. I really appreciate that."
She winked at me. "That's what friends are for. Now, how about we order some dessert? I hear the chocolate lava cake here is to die for, and I think we both deserve a treat after this heavy conversation."
"Actually," I said, glancing at my half-eaten pancakes, "I think I'll just finish these. They're too good to waste."
Pippa grinned. "Fair enough. We'll get the cake to go then. You can have it as a midnight snack or something.”
???
Thirty minutes later we were done with lunch. I walked through the library's corridors, the smell of chocolate wafting from the take-out box in my hand. My mind was still churning over my conversation with Pippa as I made my way to a less frequented section of the library.
I wanted to grab a book for the oral history project before heading back to my office. As I turned down a dimly lit aisle in the ancient history section, I found myself alone among the towering shelves. The quiet was almost eerie here, far from the library's main areas.
Just as I spotted the book I needed, a cold voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Well, well. If it isn't the human pretending to be a librarian."
I turned to see Valen Beaumont leaning against a bookshelf. Of all the applicants who had given me trouble, Valen was one of the worst—cruel, relentless, and utterly convinced of his superiority. The vampire's presence seemed to suck all the warmth from the air.
"I'm not pretending, Valen," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I am a librarian."
I reminded myself that my job required me to help all applicants, even the difficult ones. It's why I was trying not to make a big deal of the harassment, why I forced myself to remain professional despite the fear and frustration bubbling inside me.
But sometimes, like now, it was hard to remember why I put up with this treatment.
He pushed off from the shelf, moving towards me with predatory grace. "Oh, please. You're nothing more than a temporary amusement. A pet project for Moriyana to show how 'inclusive' the library can be."
I took an involuntary step back, my grip tightening on the cake box. "You're wrong. I earned my place here."
Valen's laugh was cold and cruel. "Earned? What could a mere human possibly offer that countless magical beings couldn't do better?"
With a flick of his wrist, Valen sent a stack of nearby books tumbling to the floor, their ancient pages scattering. The air thickened, and the scent of old magic filled my nostrils. I stood frozen, trapped between the towering shelves and Valen's suffocating presence.
Don't react. Don't give him the satisfaction.
Suddenly, he was right in front of me, his movements a blur. I flinched, pressing myself against the bookshelf, but there was nowhere to go. His face was inches from mine, and for the first time, I saw his fangs—long, sharp, and gleaming with hunger. Shame washed over me, hot and potent, at the fear that twisted in my gut.
"You're trembling," he purred, his voice laced with amusement. "Can you feel it, little one? The power coursing through my veins? I can smell your fear. It's intoxicating."
His words were like venom, seeping into my bones. My heart pounded against my ribs, and a cold sweat prickled my skin. He was toying with me, relishing in my terror, and the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
"I can hear every frantic beat of your heart," he murmured, leaning closer. "Imagine how easily I could silence it forever. Just a small incision, a whisper of pain, and your lifeblood would be mine."
Valen’s words painted a vivid, terrifying picture, and for a horrifying moment, I was entirely at his mercy. He pressed closer, and his eyes—those cold, predatory eyes—seemed to pierce my soul.
Then, just as quickly, Valen leaned back, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He ran a fingertip along my cheek.
"But you're not worth the effort," he said, his voice laced with disgust. “Your blood is…weak. Diluted. No, I’d gain no pleasure from ending you.” His gaze, however, was anything but bored. It drilled into me, cold and calculating. “I’d much rather watch you crawl.”
"Crawl," he commanded, his voice taking on a strange, resonant quality that seemed to vibrate in my very bones—some kind of vampiric compulsion.
Panic flared, hot and bright. I tried to resist, to stand my ground, but my muscles refused to obey. My limbs trembled, my spine bowing to his will. It was like fighting against an invisible tide.
Tears stung my eyes as humiliation burned in my throat. The cardboard takeout box crinkled in my hand as I was forced down.
With agonizing slowness, I sank to my knees, the cold stone floor biting into my skin. My gaze fell on the scattered books, their once-ordered pages now strewn about. I started to crawl towards them, clutching the takeout box in one hand. Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It came from further down the aisle, just at the edge of my vision.
Shadows.
Deeper than the natural gloom between the shelves, they seemed to pool near the base of the bookshelf several yards ahead, just out of Valen's line of sight. Hope, fragile and desperate, blossomed in my chest.
Even as Valen's compulsion pulled at me, forcing me towards the scattered books, I veered subtly, angling myself towards the darkened corner. I imagined I was following a trail of breadcrumbs, only visible to me. The takeout box, now slightly worse for wear, bumped and scraped against the stone floor as I moved. My muscles screamed in protest, every movement a torturous battle of wills.
Valen, lost in his own amusement, didn’t notice my change in trajectory.
Finally, I reached the shadows. The moment they enveloped me, it was like a physical weight lifting. The suffocating pressure of Valen's will vanished.
Gasping, I scrambled back, resting against the bookshelf. Two pinpricks of silvery light glowed from deeper within the darkness—watching me. They blinked slowly. In that chilling gaze, I saw something ancient and powerful, and for the first time that day, I didn't feel afraid.
It wasn't the darkness that scared me—it never had. What terrified me was the thought of being trapped, of losing my autonomy to Valen's will. But here, in the depths of these shadows, I felt a strange sense of safety.
Besides, I had a pretty good idea who these shadows belonged to. The Library had its own guardians, after all.
Instead of cowering, I offered the shadowed figure the takeout box. "Chocolate lava cake?"
A low chuckle resonated from the depths of the shadows. "Offering sweets to the darkness, Tempest? How... unexpected."
The shadows rippled, and Ciaran stepped out from even deeper in the gloom, his tall frame materializing like he was being painted into existence. His silver eyes locked onto mine, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths.
"We meet again," he murmured, his voice low and rich. His gaze flicked to the slightly battered takeout box in my hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I must admit, I'm intrigued by your peace offering."
My breath hitched as memories of our last encounter flooded back. Two weeks ago, we'd stood so close, the air between us electric with unspoken tension. I'd felt the ghost of his breath on my lips, the promise of a kiss that never came. Now, as I took in his chiseled features and the way his black shirt clung to his lean muscles, that same magnetic pull tugged at me.
A tingling sensation prickled at the back of my neck, like someone had trailed a feather along my skin. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and spice, uniquely Ciaran, wrapped around me, making my head spin.
Ciaran's gaze flicked past me. In one fluid motion, he grasped my wrist, his touch both gentle and firm. "Come with me," he whispered, barely moving his lips.
Before I could respond, he pulled me towards him and into the shadows. The darkness enveloped us like a living thing, cool and velvety against my skin. I found myself pressed against Ciaran's solid chest, his arms wrapping protectively around me.
"Hold still," he breathed, his lips brushing my ear.