Page 82 of Saving Destiny

“Have we arrived at a bad time?” Tremayne asks as he steps deftly around Ansel’s body, which has frozen in worried confusion. The shifter is not a master at hiding his emotions.

“I don’t know yet,” I drawl when Tweedle-Dee shows a hint of true aggravation. “These gentlemen were just about to explain why they’ve visited my library.”Because they haven’t yet, I add silently. They’d just showed up and started their interrogation.

The mage, in his ridiculously impractical robes, directs his attention to the twins as he steps up to the desk. Our gathering audience probably wishes for popcorn to improve their entertainment experience. A few students covertly aim their cell phone’s cameras in our direction, and I bet they’ve upgraded the software with illegal spells meant to bypass the library’s restrictions. No matter how much money they spent, however, each one of them will leave the building with recordings of a black screen and distorted fuzz. Gilly’s smug confidence had been reassuring when she’d insisted that no one would be able to capture video, audio, or still images. I really hope she’s right, because I have no desire to see myself online – on either the supernatural web or the magicless forums. My high-school experiences with social media had soured me on it permanently, and I’ll gladly stay in the library forever to avoid unwanted attention.

“I see.” Tremayne draws the two words out and makes it sound like he understands the entire situation. “Well, I arrived just in time then. Call this old man curious, but what could possibly bring the BSP all the way to Apocrypha and to the Hidden Library in particular? I thought the council classified this building as a phenomenon itself. While it stands to reason that everything that happens here is naturally unexplainable, it’s simultaneously unclassifiable. While I understand this is confusing to the BSP because this means it’s both a phenomenon and not a phenomenon, I thought the BSP decided to withhold its interest. This policy doesn’t seem to invite the attention of two agents.”

I want to hug Tremayne and I’ve decided he’s officially my de-facto grandfather and on my holiday gift list. He’s just offered me the information I lacked without revealing my ignorance. I’m more secure in Ansel’s trust now. For the first time since the enforcers entered, I’m tentatively optimistic.

Tremayne’s circular words make Tweedle-Dee frown; he isn’t as happy to hear them as I am. Tweedle-Dum looks angry, though. Red heat starts to crawl up his neck, and I wonder if his tight collar is suffocating him. He’s stopped swiveling to stare at the old mage. Tremayne either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

With their attention diverted, I shift my weight to ease the ache in my legs and arms. The pain is worse than usual because my muscles are rigid with tension and my baseline was higher after I comforted Bren.

After several heartbeats of silence, Tweedle-Dee forms a rebuttal. “While you might have a correct point in there, the phenomenon we’ve been asked to investigate occurred outside the library, specifically above and around the building, this morning. The classification of the library notwithstanding, it is categorically against supernatural law to manipulate weather patterns.” He glances back at me. “That is why we are here.”

Finally, I’ve been given something. Avery deserves special thanks for having me warn Bren, and it doesn’t matter how the vampire knew. I maintain my blank expression with difficulty as I contemplate the detective’s words. They were asked to come, and I can easily guess who phoned the complaint into the Bureau. Addington suspects that his youngest son’s abilities can manipulate weather. He’d formed the connection and found a loophole that might bring Bren back into his custody. At the very least, it will take Bren away from the library’s protection. Anger surges through me, but I bottle it tightly inside my chest and maintain my blank expression.

Tweedle-Dee abruptly narrows his gaze on me. “Ms. Abram, I understand that you are new to our world. I have a duty to warn you that you will be unable to lie when answering my questions. Even here, our unique authority carries this power and influence.”

My hands tighten around my braces, but this is the only outward sign of my frustration. I admit that a law enforcement agency with the power to divine truth is useful, and I wonder if the magicless are envious. Do their powers work on the magicless?

“Why would I lie?” I respond and hope that I sound as innocent as I want to.

“That is a good question,” Tweedle-Dee replies. His gaze narrows further until he’s practically squinting at me. It makes him look short-sighted rather than mean. “If you just answer my questions, though, we can determine whether there is anything of note here. Afterwards, we shall be on our way.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tremayne incline his head. It’s combined with the motion of him stroking his long beard and I don’t know whether it’s a signal or not, but I assume it is. I can only answer truthfully, but I’d break a million laws to keep my guardians safe. Hopefully, I won’t have to.

“Sure. Fire away,” I reply with a touch of nervousness I can’t hide. Dee frowns as if my choice of words is an intentional ploy to disarm him.

“Were you within this building at eleven ‘o’clock this morning?”

“Yes.” That question is the easy one.

“Who else occupied the premises at that time?”

I blow out a breath as if the question is too difficult to answer, and it’s not an act. “I’m afraid I don’t have a list. There were quite a few students and several teachers because we were very busy. It is our opening day. There are too many to name, and I wouldn’t be able to identify all of them even if we’d only had a few. I am new here.”

Tweedle-Dee frowns. He doesn’t detect a lie, but he also isn’t expecting me to be truthfully vague. “Did you notice anything strange around that time?”

“We had to request assistance from campus security because a woman entered with an illegal pheromone trap. Her presence upset the library.” Because Bren is essential to the library, this also isn’t a lie. It verges on one, however, because Bren isn’t fully bonded yet. For just a second, I consider having sex with all of my guys the minute the detectives leave. It’s not a cure-all, though. It isn’t necessarily the sex; the intimacy creates the bond. I need to do it … them … for the right reasons.

Tweedle-Dee frowns as if trying to parse my almost-lie. “How did it upset the library? Precisely?”

My face scrunches, and I shift my weight as I consider how to word my answer. I can’t lie, but I can be vague. “The library needed some time to regain her composure, so we closed our doors while the perpetrator was dealt with. I apologize. Because I am just a representative, I cannot answer your question … precisely. The library is a sentient building, and it’s believed that she has existed in one form or another since the beginning of time. Her emotions don’t always translate into human equivalents.”

Dee’s frown deepens; he seems uncertain about how to proceed. For a moment, his gaze shifts toward his partner. As he does so, the electric lights flicker and a cloud seems to hover closer to the dome. The openly gawking students’ whispers grow louder as they point toward the ceiling. Dum glares toward them and several scuttle backward into the stacks. One decides to make a delayed exit. The students’ reactions indicate that the BSP detectives have a reputation I’m unaware of.

“Are you saying that the library’s representative doesn’t understand what the library represents?” Tweedle-Dee attempts to match my caginess, but I believe sphinxes can best anyone, except library goblins, when riddles are involved.

“I do and I don’t, Detective. The library possesses an individual consciousness that is hers alone. When she desires, I repeat the words she asks me to repeat. Right now, she’s not saying anything; therefore, neither am I.” Again, this isn’t exactly a lie, although I imagine Sage finding our exchange increasingly entertaining. I imagine the floorboards vibrating with phantom laughter.

Dee’s arms cross over his broad chest, and his index finger taps against his opposite forearm. It’s the only visible sign of his frustration besides his permanent frown. “I see. Besides the woman with the illegal trap, did you notice anything else that might be considered strange this morning?”

I stare at him, blinking slowly. “I’m uncertain if you are aware of this, detectives, but I lived among the magicless before I was brought to this library. I’ve only been here for about a week, which means that I transitioned from a government-regulated magicless orphanage into a sentient building frequented by supernaturals. This building happens to be guarded by gargoyles that can move and speak when their assistance is required. In addition, equally strange creatures fly around the library, teach us our job, and happen to be our only defense against bookworms. Unfortunately, that is not a euphemism for a voracious reader but the description of a book-eating creature shaped like a worm but armed with millions of teeth. You’ll forgive me if I think everything is strange right about now. I’m uncertain whether I can say anything is stranger than the others.”

The finger taps faster, but Dee’s partner scowls openly. Tweedle-Dum genuinely appears as if he’d love to wring my neck or torture me for answers. I think they’d resort to a bad cop / good cop scenario if Tremayne weren’t watching them co closely. Or maybe it’s not the mage but my mention of the gargoyles that has Dum’s pants in a twist. He’s now glancing at the entry door as often as he does the rest of his surroundings.

Guilt floods through me when I realize I’m enjoying this a little too much. I should focus on Bren because his nervous anxiety is clear despite our incomplete bond. I’m deliberately trying to ignore him, though; I worry it might draw the detectives’ focus.

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