Page 68 of Gifted Destiny

“Their quiet observation might imply that they’re aware of our struggles,” Avery finishes. Bren nods in agreement.

I hate the idea of those two men watching us, even though I’d suspected it. The sense of impending doom returns, but my intuition insists that we are on the right path. Asking for advice from a dead person wouldn’t have occurred to me. My guardians remind me that I no longer live in the magicless community.

Garrett sets the framed photo on the floor in front of my paws. The position seems dishonorable, but I don’t have an alternative in this form. The brothers’ anticipation reminds me that I’m forgetting my manners. I glance at Avery’s blank expression. “Do you want to watch? I can’t guarantee it’s even going to work.”

The vampire struggles with his answer. “I’d like to watch, even if the attempt is futile. However, I don’t want to increase the burden upon you.”

My lips curve into a small smile that he can’t see. “I expend very little effort in sharing my vision with you. I’m sorry I don’t think of it more often.”

“I am always grateful for the gift.”

The bond conveys a more profound sentiment than a merethank you, and I understand his gratitude. My help frees him from a lifetime struggle, even if it’s a brief reprieve. If anyone could relieve me of my pain or injuries for even a few minutes, I’d be honored and indebted.

My sphinx allows me a taste of this freedom, and beggars shouldn’t be choosy. I am thankful for the opportunity, and I’ll gladly pay it forward when I’m able. I relay these thoughts to him along with an image before resolutely turning toward the next big thing.

Chapter 31

Zosia

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter. The simplicity of summoning one’s ancestors makes me irrationally irritated with the expectations I’ve garnered from movies and books. I don’t have to recite a difficult incantation, sacrifice a small animal, gather rare herbs, or promise my firstborn child …. I’m not complaining, just surprised.

I decide to ask aloud. It feels appropriate, even if I’m not chanting a complex spell. More accurately, they’re a desperate plea from a hopeful child. “Great Sphinx Librarians past, Grandmother Atanea Rae Abram, I beg your counsel.”

As I speak, I place my furry toes on the frame of the photo and focus on the noble face staring up at me. Our similarities are striking; she could easily be me in a hundred years. Bren chose Atanea’s sphinx form, and it’s more fitting than her human face. The sphinx represents an undeniable connection.

Several seconds of silence pass, and I fear the lack of a response signifies failure or rejection. Bren’s words from a day or so ago echo through my mind. Magic requires intention. I repeat the words again, infusing each one with purpose, hope, and the magic that fuels my bond with the library.

This time, the air shifts around us. The fur along my back stands at attention, and my furry tail follows suit until it puffs to twice its size. I don’t think I like it because it makes the appendage more noticeable, and I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring it. My inner knowledge indicates that lions don’t have the same ability, but lions don’t have wings either. Sphinxes are a unique species.

The puffing doesn’t serve a purpose except to amuse Bren. I want to roll my eyes at him, but he’s so cute in his childlike delight. I dread the day Kodi talks the others into pulling a prank on me. I imagine entering a room in feline form and encountering a huge box. Will they wager on whether I can resist climbing into it? I’ll have to prepare a suitable idea for revenge – just in case.

“Granddaughter.”

The word, whisper soft and toneless, startles me. Transparent smoke rises from the photo, reminding me too much of Kodi’s body when he was tethered. My chest clenches at the thought, and I wish I’d told him to join us until I remember the bond. It’s capable of doing more than projecting his boredom to me. Utilizing our link and slightly modifying what I’ve done with Avery, I share my vision with my ghostly mate.

The spirit coalesces slowly, gathering shape until she is a wispy figure sitting before me. As she gathers color from the inanimate objects around us, I list our differences, which are fewer than our similarities. Her eyes are more gold than blue, and her complexion is a shade darker than my bronze tone. Her face is lined and streaks of silver have replaced the gold in her hair. If I look like this in fifty or one hundred years, I won’t be disappointed. Atanea is regal and beautiful.

After I’ve studied her face, I examine the rest. Her musculature is less dense than mine, but her posture is straight. She doesn’t lean to one side because of an injured leg.

“You are brave to summon me, little one.” Her tone is noble and confident now that she’s fully formed. “You’ve displayed great courage during a tumultuous time, and your strength pleases us.”

I’m uncertain whether I hear the judgment in her words or if I’m conditioned by Mary to expect censure. Her comments also create more questions. Does she know what’s happened to me and why?

“I am honored and grateful that you met with me.” These are the only words that come to mind. I force them out before bombarding her with questions.

My emotions roil, but they’re tempered by my men. Garrett is also irritated by the sphinx’s words, Kodi is oblivious, and Avery is calm. Although Bren is difficult to read, his patience equals the vampire’s steadiness.

After a glance around the room and several seconds of silence, the older sphinx sighs. “Forgive me if I sound upset, little one. These tumultuous times are partially my fault. I also need to remind myself that you are not your mother. You look just like her.” Striations of blue overtake the gold in her eyes and reveal her sadness.

“Do you remember your mother? We have little insight into what happens outside these walls.”

“I have no memories of her. I’ve often wondered whether I have purposefully blocked them out or ....”

Atanea shakes her head, and her ears twitch before partially flattening against her head. “Your answer confirms a rumor we’d heard. I’d hoped it wasn’t true, but …. We heard that Karasi died during childbirth or shortly after. We believe that others took you in – members of a secret society that protects the libraries.They should have been more than capable of keeping you safe, however. We’ve heard very little about this failing.”

Kodi’s pain distracts me from the intriguing idea of a secret society. He still worries about his involvement in my capture. I remind him firmly that he was little more than a child and not to blame. I don’t hold him accountable for anything he might have been forced to do. The sharpness of his fear and anger wanes but doesn’t disappear. It’s something we’ll have to resolve later.

“You said that these tumultuous events are partially your fault. How?” Garrett’s question is polite but commanding. He stands with his legs spread apart and his hands clasped behind his back; the posturing makes him appear even larger. I note the second that recognition joins appraisal in her golden-blue eyes. Do my eyes change color as easily?

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