Page 14 of Gifted Destiny

The old mage strokes his beard again – or he never stopped. “Every supernatural is different, and this is a crucial difference between mages and shifters. Some mages can regain their expended magic, but shifters can’t. Once the link with their beast is severed, it can’t be retrieved.”

His explanation aligns with my memories. Almost all of the prisoners in the dungeon had been shifters. I’d thought it was because Addington’s power made them easier to imprison, but he might have known this all along. Does the rule apply to Zosia, too? According to the library, she’s as much a mage as a shifter. Did they plan to drain her repeatedly? The idea makes me remember the sensation of nausea.

“It sounds relatively safe then,” Garrett says as I return to my place at the end of the table. I envy the other guy’s ability to touch Zosia, but that’s something I’ve been dealing with since before I died. I wanted to hug her when she was on the other side of the cell door. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, even if I didn’t know it would.

“If the library filters the magic, she’ll know how much to give Zosia,” the shifter continues. “The ghost can’t die again. If hedoesn’t end up deserving the gift, we can cut him off.” His words are so matter-of-fact that I don’t feel insulted, and I can’t argue.

“Sounds fair,” I grunt.

“What does the library think?” Bren asks Zosia. He seems calmer now that we have a path forward. He might even be excited to start, but I don’t know that I am.

Zosia closes her eyes to speak with the library. It’s not exactly necessary, but it helps her focus in her exhausted state. I take the opportunity to stare at her. She’s weary and her braid is loose from a long day, but she’s still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. Her nose, slightly upturned at the end, wrinkles while she converses with Sage and her dark lashes form perfect crescents on her bronzed cheeks. Gold shines in her hair and her skin sparkles like she’s dusted in glitter. The shimmer is her magic. It’s been apparent since she shifted, but I doubt she’s noticed.

The angle of the sun’s rays shining through the dome makes me glance at the clock before I realize what I’m doing. It might be the first time since I died that I’ve been curious about the hour. I have a job now, though, whether I’m solid or not. Regardless of our issues, the doors will reopen in the morning.

Ansel is one of those issues. Zo might not be mad at him, but I am. Father or not, he could have been more involved in her life. At the very least, he could have hidden her in a place that didn’t bring further abuse. I doubt that I’ll ever forgive him.

Zo’s voice brings me back to the moment. This sense of presence seems easier to attain the longer I stay in the library. I don’t want to jinx my existence, but this is the closest I’ve felt to alive since I died. The weird tenth-floor goblin might have been correct in saying that purpose is vital – in life and death.

“Sage says that she will accept the remnants of Bren’s magic. Tremayne is right. The overflow won’t hurt me because she cancontrol how much she gives me. She also thinks this path is safer than discharging it into an object.”

“Why didn’t we just ask her first? She has all the answers.” I shake my head at our inefficiency.

The sparkle in Zosia’s eyes is teasing as she meets my gaze, but I sense that the library is behind it. “She told me you’d ask and says that the easiest way is not always the best way. If we hadn’t found the answer ourselves, she wouldn’t have confirmed it.”

I roll my eyes in a show of irritation. “Of course, she knew I’d ask,” I mutter dramatically. I’m not upset, though. I find it refreshing to be understood by people who don’t have plans to manipulate me.

Tremayne nods. “You have a path forward then. If you can’t perform a transfer tonight, a written contract might appease the detectives. I’m certain the library told you that the detectives will be more likely to concede if Bren is fully bound to her.”

A rosy flush climbs across Zo’s neck and into her cheeks as she imagines how to complete that bond. The mental image of her and Bren together nearly makes me solid, and I have to distract myself with negative thoughts.

I can’t assume that Bren will allow an audience like Avery. From the little they told us, Addington fucked with their minds and created intimacy-related trauma. Bren seems especially fragile because he shuts down at the thought. I want to warn him that Zosia’s fragile self-esteem will paint any hesitancy on his part as rejection. Considering the ton of baggage we brought with us, the library should be reclassified as an airport.

“Noted,” Zosia replies in a clipped tone. She has to be looking forward to the day when strangers stop casually mentioning her sex life.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long, Ansel,” the sphinx says as she directs her focus to the struggling shifter.

Despite the pain etched into his expression, Ansel manages a weak smile. “Sage has given me strength,” he croaks.

“She is truly grateful for your assistance over the years.” Zosia’s voice and words are punctuated with the library’s gratitude.

A spark of bitter resentment pricks me when I realize Ansel has offered more to the library than he has given to his daughter. The emotion fades as quickly as it arrives, though. I love Zosia more than I love anything else, but the library is a vital component of our world. I know this even if I don’t understand it.

“I want to make it clear that the results of the paternity test won’t affect my offer,” Zosia says in a firm voice. “Ansel Briar, Sage wants to reward your loyalty. Again, we offer you the position of gargoyle. One of our current guards is interested in retiring.”

When Ansel doesn’t react, Zosia continues. “The request is a little selfish on my part. As a gargoyle, you’ll retain your memories of this life for a hundred years. I’d like to ask you occasional questions about my mother and grandmother during that time. ”

Tremayne’s beard twitches with a rare smile. It’s hard to see under that mass of hair, but he seems to approve.

Ansel clears his throat and sips his water before he speaks. “I hate to repeat this, but I’m unworthy. I failed to protect your mother, and I failed to protect you after I became aware of your existence. Kodi isn’t wrong to accuse me of abandonment. You have endured pain and suffering because of my choices.”

I feel a sense of vindication, but Zosia shrugs. “It sounds like you’re only considering the advantages of my offer. Allow me to clarify. As a gargoyle, you’ll be a glorified servant and continuously on guard. For a century, you’ll have access to your memories while watching others live a life you no longerhave. Gargoyles operate on a schedule. When you’re not active, you’ll exist in a state of oblivion. You won’t dream or think. It might feel like death but without a promise of afterlife or reincarnation.”

Zosia pauses to take a sip of water. Mentally, I compare being a ghost with being a gargoyle. There are similarities and differences.

“Your continued existence and final release will be determined by the library. Although the majority of our current sentinels chose the position, two are serving punishment. Unlike those who entered freely, they weren’t able to retain any memory of their lives. They are nothing but mindless servants. This won’t be your fate, but I’d advise you to consider the disadvantages alongside the privileges.”

Ansel appears to take Zosia’s warnings to heart, but I predict his disagreement before he opens his mouth. “I understand, but I still believe this opportunity is an honor. The library is my goddess and serving her has given meaning to my life. As a gargoyle, serving her will give meaning to my death. Even after I lose my understanding of who I was and who you are, I’ll still be serving a higher purpose. Additionally, I’ll gladly answer any question I can.” Ansel’s voice strengthens and his spine straightens with each word.

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