Page 29 of Gifted Destiny (Hidden Libraries #3)
Avery
O ur adorable sphinx doesn’t understand that we return her tender feelings, and the mere suggestion of love flusters her. I don’t share her belief in what she terms ‘insta-love,’ not when greater forces have pulled us together. The library and the sphinx are my destiny. Knowing this, nothing limits my emotional depths.
The librarian has adapted well to her new position. She might complain about distraction, but she can easily transition from sarcastic or loving to her management duties. Kodi is instructed to monitor the book while I join Zosia on the top floor. Bren and Garrett head to opposite levels. The mage wants to speak with the gargoyles, and the shifter believes he can use the messaging device to research Addington’s presence on campus. Zo only agrees to this after he promises not to leave the library.
I nearly lost my mind and ripped his head off when he disrespected Zosia this morning. My mate’s firm insistence that she’d manage the irritable shifter was the only thing that pulled aside the shroud of red fury. Our sphinx is not weak, though, and I’m certain he groveled before they sealed their bond. Their connection bears a calm surety that arises from sharing an intimacy of the heart, not just the body.
Their new bond fills me with relief. With each day that passed, she grew more insecure, and he grew more jealous. Now, I know he’ll never speak that way to her again.
“Was that a hint of anger? What are you thinking about?” Zosia’s question pulls me from my thoughts as I follow her bright energy through the maze of bookshelves. The magical energy on this floor nearly forms a physical barrier to my sight, and using the sphinx’s magic as a lodestone is easier than avoiding obstacles.
“You are not the only one whose attention wanders, mon trésor . I was contemplating the events at the breakfast table this morning. Garrett’s insults nearly sent me into a fit of irrational rage. I’m ashamed of my momentary loss of control. You handled the situation quite well, and I should have trusted you.”
Her energy brightens briefly, and I wonder if it indicates a blush. I’ve been forever changed by the images she’s gifted me. I find myself yearning to see her when I return to my customary state. My few memories of her prevent waves of self-pity, but they are too brief to provide insight. How does she move? Which gestures are specific to this form? I’ve caressed her soft feathers and felt her tail swish against my calves, but I haven’t explored her expressive ears.
“An apology is unnecessary, Avery. While I appreciate your defense of my honor, I don’t want to see my mates fight. You needn’t worry about a repeat, either. He displayed honest regret and remorse and explained his reasoning. I didn’t permit excuses, but he said his restrained desire and his beastly nature influenced his poor judgment.”
Her voice and emotions betray a hint of insecurity. She has matured and grown more confident since I met her, but she’s still predisposed to believing the worst.
“He wasn’t exaggerating his attraction toward you, Zosia. I scented his desire during your first interaction. He prides himself on bodily restraint, and I’m certain his lack of control distressed him.” I pause to evaluate her emotions. When she accepts this necessary truth, I continue. “This doesn’t excuse his words, however. He pushed your buttons intentionally, exploiting your skewed perceptions of shame. I was angry that he might increase your distress regarding your natural instincts.” I offer a wry chuckle. “Perhaps I am still a little angry,” I muse aloud. Before meeting her, I never revealed my inner thoughts in this way.
The noise she makes is a combination of a growl and a purr. It’s sexy and adorable. When I reach for her, she allows me to stroke her back. I’m pleased that she lets me touch her while she’s in this form. One of my primary love languages is physical affection, as she’s probably surmised.
Her thick coat is soft instead of bristly, and her form radiates warmth. Although I don’t display the icy temperature of most vampires, I am colder than most humans. She offers comfort and heat.
“While you’re correct, I don’t believe his attack was intentional. Addington trained him to find and exploit weak points in another’s armor. Hmmm ….” The soft hum is followed by an explanation. “This form brings clarity. We’re not separate entities, but I find it easier to dismiss negative thoughts as a sphinx. I don’t know why I didn’t realize this before, but it makes sense. Physically, I am more capable and powerful.”
“In addition, you are more ensnared in your magicless upbringing while in human form. You cannot deny magic after you’ve shifted.”
“Very true. I should shift more often, especially if I am sinking into old habits.” She leans into me, her tail twining around my calf. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Always, mon amour .” I infuse my words with truth and love, and her aura shivers in response.
“Kodi is good at humoring me out of those moods, but he doesn’t know yet to tell me to shift. Might you ...?”
“Of course. I will suggest a shift when your emotions indicate that you’ve returned to pre-library thinking.”
Her aura glows with gratitude, but her pace also slows. Her emotions indicate she’s mired in thought. While I wait, I find myself lost in a daydream. I wish, for multiple reasons, that we weren’t in the middle of a dangerous crisis. I want to make love to her here – while magic sparkles in the air and power seeps into our skin. I tuck the idea away. After we’ve solved our current issues, we can explore this tantalizing prospect.
“I often think about what might have been, but I was just thinking about how much easier this could be. I imagine past sphinxes took their daughters under their wings, quite literally, and taught them everything they needed to know from an early age. Sage and the goblins rested and protected while the torch was passed. The goblins could gather books and fight the bookworms but stay out of sight. I keep thinking her absence is wrong, but this might have been typical for previous librarians.”
Although she tries to minimize her emotions, hurt and betrayal accompany her words. Sphinxes are a matriarchal species, and her mother’s decision to run deprived her of more than just a parental figure.
My fingers comb through her fur as we consider her words. Our link suggests the touch soothes us equally, and the rhythmic motion facilitates my ability to problem-solve.
“The oldest vampires created impressive methods of passing their knowledge and lore to younger generations. They found a way to exist as shades, which is very different from the form Kodi has taken. Sage has overseen your ancestors, but does she also present as a manifestation of them? Do you believe you might be able to contact your ancestors in some way?”
“You’re brilliant. I don’t know if I can contact my ancestors, but Sage might be more accessible in the legend room. If her power is concentrated in any physical place in this realm, this is the best place to look.” She begins walking again, this time with more purpose.
We stop in front of the arc of energy that forms a doorway. “I wasn’t sure it would be here.” Her tail swishes, slapping my leg more than once. She doesn’t seem to notice, and I don’t mind. “After we exited last time, the doorway disappeared and I wondered whether Fin needs to be present for access.”
My brows draw together. “On each of my visits to the tenth floor, the magic that creates the entrance is always present. However, I cannot say whether that means the door is always open. Is it open now?”
“It is,” she tells me. “Perhaps the wall I saw was an illusion.”
I expect her to enter, but she still pauses. “I should check in with the others first. I forget that I don’t need to be near them to do so.”
Her energy flares as she reaches out to the others, and I’m captivated by its beauty. The threads of magic that extend toward Garrett and Kodi are shaded with the guardians’ primary aura colors. The one she extends toward the roof is primarily golden; it appears weak and lonely compared to the rest.
“Etienne says that there is nothing to report. Students approach the library but turn away when they see we’re closed. Bren is fine and speaking with Ansel.” She clears her throat, which sounds more like a growl in this form. Longing and uncertainty suffuse her emotions when she speaks of her remaining guardian.
“Garrett hasn’t made much progress either. Addington’s known allies avoid him, and the bystanders are acting cagey. Kodi says the book is exactly as we left it. He’s bored. None of this is surprising.” She chuckles as her shoulder bumps my hip again. This appears to be her sphinx’s equivalent of a touch or handhold.
“Your presence beside me prompted the idea, by the way. The bonds are unforgettable because they’re new and strange. Telepathic communication with the others …. Well, that feels like it belongs in one of my fantasy books, not my life.”
“Soon, this strangeness will become intuitive and natural to you. You’ve been inadvertently hiding from this world and yourself for half of your life, so it’s not surprising that it feels unnatural. You’re not alone, though. All of us are here for you. Whenever you have need of me, just say the word.”
My words trigger her self-consciousness, but it lessens more each day. Some individuals carry their trauma throughout their lives. It becomes their shield and sword; the sword is wielded whenever they are scared, and the shield prevents anyone or anything from getting too close. My beautiful mate has made the painful but rewarding choice to put aside her sword and shield.
Although I have no business claiming personal pride in her progress or her accomplishments, I still feel it. She doesn’t possess adequate pride in herself yet, so I shall hold it for her.
“Speaking of need ….” Her words trail away until I prompt her.
“Yes?”
“You seemed hungry at breakfast, but I’m not sensing that as much now. Am I wrong?”
“You are not wrong on either count, mon trésor . I cannot explain it, but it seems that this time alone with you has sated my physical hunger. I don’t know how permanent the satisfaction is, but I am not hungry right now.” I duck my head sheepishly. “I apologize if this feels burdensome to hear. I understand the demands upon you, and I loathe making more.”
Her head rests on my thigh, and her emotions reassure me more than her words. “It’s not a burden to spend time with you, Avery. Your presence is calming. I also feel less fatigued and tired than I did earlier. Like you, I can’t explain it. I also can’t say whether it’s because of the magic on this floor or our time together.”
I nod. “We have much time to explore these questions.”
I’m not sure she believes me, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she takes a deep breath and steps past the threshold we have been avoiding. Her wings brush against my legs as she pads forward on soundless paws. I follow as close to her as I can without stepping on her tail. The dimensions of the room are cramped, and I don’t wish to break anything.
Despite being an open door, the smaller room holds a unique scent. It reminds me of Zosia’s sphinx form but older.
“Without a goblin escort, I almost feel like I’m trespassing.” Zosia’s tone is quiet and reverent, which I understand. The room inspires a similar veneration to a mausoleum or place of worship.
The image she showed me burns so brightly in my mind that I believe it’s current, but we hadn’t been alone that time. I can’t shake the ghostly echoes of the other guardians.
I once told Zosia that time possesses a magic of its own, especially for those of us who have long lives. Tragedy, change, and other monumental events often skew our perception as well. Hours can inflate into days or years or shrink into seconds.
“I feel closer to Sage here,” Zosia whispers. I reach for her, and the sensation of fur against flesh grounds me. “Although my bond with Sage bears similarities to the ones I have with you and the others, I rarely feel emotion. When I do, they don’t feel entirely … human.”
Her anguish at not being able to understand provokes a need to help. “Do you know any other languages?”
“Of course. I mean, I didn’t before I arrived here, but I seem to know them all now. They’re as familiar as English.”
“If that is the case, my idea may not work. I was going to suggest that you imagine her emotions are a different language. As an alternative, pretend that you lack the sense in which she typically expresses emotions. For example, you are deaf but her emotions are only expressed via spoken words. Our brains often provide clues and form parallels even if we can’t interpret them in a typical manner.”
Understanding and appreciation coast along our bond. “You really are brilliant. I have been looking at Sage and this situation through a normal pair of glasses. Perhaps I need 3D glasses or something like that.”
Silence follows and her body steadily relaxes into me. She’s entering the trancelike state that permits her to retrieve information from the library within her mind. I stiffen my legs and widen my stance, offering as much physical support as possible.
Her aura brightens just before she speaks again. “I think …, I’m not sure that I’m right. I suppose that is the problem with impromptu translations. I don’t sense danger or pain but concern. Possibly also like she’s preparing for something?” The idea sparks palpable fear in my mate. I stroke her back, unable to bear her distress.
“And I don’t think she’s deliberately avoiding me. The goblins’ retreat and her silence might be a safety measure. Do you think I’m the danger?” The question is nearly unintelligible through Zosia’s horror.
“Absolutely not. You are part of the library, Zosia. If she considers retreat the safest option, I believe she’s trying to protect you.” My intuition bolsters my opinion, and I send all of my certainty to my mate.
“But isn’t it more dangerous to keep me oblivious and lacking in knowledge?” Frustration overwhelms her aura, but I prefer this to the sense of betrayal that had tried to sabotage her.
“Perhaps there is a reason Sage cannot speak to you about this. I mentioned the vampire elders and their methods of instruction. Do you believe you can contact any of your ancestors directly?”
My mate’s emotions are as turbulent as Bren’s wild magic as she cycles through them. Curiosity, eagerness, frustration, and unease are foremost in her mind.
“I have no idea if I can, and I haven’t the faintest clue how,” she replies in a decidedly grumpy voice. Not knowing must be an anathema to all sphinxes – the fabled kryptonite among their species.
I recall the vampire lore my nanny had relayed. “Master vampires left totems behind – physical objects that could channel their spirit. The most recently dead were the easiest to contact, and sometimes, that totem was a portrait. Perhaps you can attempt to speak to your grandmother through her portrait?”
Sudden anxiety spikes through Zosia’s aura. Her silence worries me until I realize that she’s deliberating how to voice her concerns. “What if my ancestors don’t like me? What if they’re disappointed in their legacy?” A nervous chuckle follows her hasty questions. “I feel less negative in this form, but it doesn’t erase all of my insecurities.”
I crouch and stretch my arm toward her. She moves into me, knowing what I want. With my fingers, I catalog the minor differences between her sphinx face and her fully human one. Her soft fur tapers to smooth skin below her jawline and wraps over the nape of her neck. When she closes her eyes to allow my exploration, I notice their slightly larger size. The contours of her face are more cat-like, but I hadn’t noted this on my visual inspection.
When my hands cradle her head, I’m reminded that she doesn’t possess human ears. I’m used to feeling the hard cartilage, and I love to tease the soft lobes between my lips and teeth. My fingers dip into her thick hair and find the furry substitutes high upon her head. A pleasant, deep rumble vibrates through her when I caress the juncture of her scalp and ears.
“I can purr?” Her surprised gasp is almost lost within the rolling hum of her delight.
I can’t compare the noise to a domestic cat because the creatures avoid vampires for obvious reasons. As it’s not a growl, a snarl, or a melodic hum, however, I’d agree with her assessment.
My fingertips find a spot that increases the volume of her thrumming purr and lights her aura with pleasure. My body responds automatically, and I must exercise careful control to prevent my canines and my cock from growing. A magicless human might consider the interaction strange or immoral, as Kodi suggested earlier. Neither of us is incapable of consent, however, which forms the basis of the immorality. We are mates. I crave her satisfaction regardless of the form she takes.
“You have nothing to worry about.” I despise returning to a subject that decreases her pleasure, but our obligations take precedence over our carnal natures. “Your ancestors will love you as I do. If they don’t, they should feel shame instead of dislike. Your lack of protection allowed your injuries.”
Although her purr subsides, she doesn’t lean away from my touch. “Short of trapping my mother here, they didn’t have any power over the situation. I doubt that would have ended well.” She breathes a heavy sigh. “I need answers, though, even if I encounter disappointment.”
“If you succeed in contacting Atanea, we should ask about Agustin.”
I’d sensed Bren’s approach, and Zosia’s lack of surprise suggests she’d noticed too.
“Agustin? My grandmother’s mate? Why?” Confusion seeps along our bond, and I realize she’d been with Kodi when we learned more about the vampire’s disappearance.
“Fin told me that his disappearance was sudden and unexpected. The library didn’t sense his death or his betrayal. They couldn’t feel his soul anywhere.” Bren’s explanation is terse, but it includes the main points.
“Oh.” My mate’s shocked understanding quickly progresses into horror. “Oh! Could his soul be the one trapped in the book?”
“I think so. The prospect just occurred to me.” Bren’s tone is softer as he enters the room and moves closer. I stand, noting the tension in his aura. Is it just this discovery that plagues him, or something else?
“My visions have never included the book. I think the magic surrounding it protects it from my foresight just as it does from any tampering or detection. I agree with this course of action. Contacting your ancestors might be the best way to get answers.”
Bren’s energy moves toward the wall. “This one is your grandmother?”
I try to recall the photo in my mind, but I’d been more focused on Zosia at the time. I remember that she’s an older version of my mate. Zo nods. She hasn’t retreated from my touch, and her desire for comfort permits me to keep my hand on the scruff of her neck.
“Avery, are the vampire elders considered shades? They’re different than Kodi, right?”
My hand pauses in Zosia’s fur as I consider the question. “Very different. Kodi isn’t a shade. Shades are typically irritable and unwilling to cooperate. They can’t accept that they’re just an echo. The vampire elders aren’t shades, and your grandmother shouldn’t be either.” The words hang in the air, and I wonder if they realize I’ve intentionally singled out the woman. Zosia’s mother would be different, but I fear saying this aloud.
“Why?”
“I am not an authority by any means, but the difference is intention before death,” I muse aloud. “The vampire elders understand they might be contacted when they create their totems. I believe you told me that an aspect of Sage is your ancestors. They become a part of her?”
“That’s what the library told me. Their bones are actually placed into the building itself, although I don’t understand that part.”
Her magicless upbringing is again urging her to think in terms of the tested sciences. Magic is also a science, but it hasn’t been fully explored and is constantly evolving – similar to quantum physics or string theory. “Fascinating,” I murmur. “Bones carry memories and magic. Many vampire totems are carved from bones.”
Zosia’s aura flinches. “But you said they were created before the people died,” she protests.
My grimace is immediate, but Bren saves me from an unnecessary explanation. Zosia can form her own conclusions.
“Your ancestors aren’t shades ….” Bren’s interjection returns us to the proper conversation. “But if they are part of Sage, contacting one might create a separate problem. Your grandmother, Atanea, became one with the library and existing sphinxes after her death. If you focus on her alone, will it be confusing?”
He pauses, but it’s because he’s thinking. He doesn’t expect my mate or I to provide an answer.
“Then again, each sphinx might retain a concept of individuality. The great Buddha wrote, ‘Unity can only be manifested by the Binary. Unity itself and the idea of Unity are already two.’”
Zosia’s feathers ruffle as she shifts her weight. Her tail thumps the floor behind us. “Why does that sound so confusing but also make sense?” Her question is as rhetorical as Bren’s earlier inquiry.
Silence falls. I continue to stroke her neck in rhythmic motion, concentrating on the tension in her muscles. She rises from her haunches but continues to lean against me. I am honored to offer her strength and support.
“Is this really our best, or only, option? Why isn’t there a book that explains what to do?” A small whimper follows her words.
“I have another quote, little lioness.” Bren’s voice carries a smile that I can’t see.
Zosia chuffs, but her aura lights up at his playful tone. “Evidently, I need to hear it.”
“It’s not technically a quote but a Lakota proverb. The rough translation is ‘knowledge is rooted in all things; the world is a library.’”
Zosia’s dramatic sigh would make Kodi proud. “Which means that sometimes doing is required before knowing.”
I nod. “Or that knowledge must be acquired before it can be written down. It’s a very fitting proverb.”
“Yes, it is. Thank you, Bren. I always appreciate your words of wisdom.” The tentative bond between the mage and sphinx flickers. It will be beautiful – her gold combined with his bright blue. “Where do I start?”
Courage and resignation overtake her doubts. My mate is both heroic and tenacious. She’s never shirked from her duties despite her fears. Destiny has surely blessed me, and I shall spend every breath proving I am worthy of the gift.