Page 7 of Gifted Destiny

Bren

Zosia’s wail cuts through me like a knife, and I grip her hand as strongly as she does mine. The act isn’t selfless; her touch calms my restless magic.

It’s my fault that she’s upset. I screwed up. I’d been meticulous about hiding my powers because Addington repeatedly lectured me about the consequences. My sire hadn’t been concerned for my well-being; he’d just wanted to control my abilities. Although he’d been initially disappointed that I wasn’t born a shifter, he’d soon realized the potential of my two rare abilities. He’d tried to mold me into a weapon. Once I was old enough to understand that he’d destroy me to get my magic, I’d been diligent about control.

This morning had been a perfect storm, figuratively and literally. If the BSP removes me from the library on charges of illegal magic, it would destroy Zosia and Garrett. Imprisonment isn’t a viable excuse to nullify my contract with the library, so it might also be considered a betrayal of my oath. My absence would leave the library and her librarian vulnerable without a fourth guardian.

The horror doesn’t end there. Addington will have easy access to me when I leave the library. He’ll use me as bait to drawZo and her guardians away from the library’s protection and take what he really wants – the library. The cautionary tale Ansel just relayed makes me wonder if our father had played a role in Atanea’s death as well. There are too many similarities to ignore, and he’s always longed to control the library’s mysterious powers.

I would rather die than become Addington’s weapon. I won’t let him use my powers against Zosia, the library, or my brother. If I’m truly dead, Zo can also replace me.

My mind offers me visions of possible futures, but they shift so rapidly that I feel dizzy. Mostly, they veer back and forth between happiness in the library and desolation in a dark cell. Less prevalent but more awful is a vision in which I return to my childhood home and Addington’s care.

Occasionally, I see nothing but darkness. I assume the void represents my death, and I know I won’t return like Kodi. He’s an anomaly, just like the wise mage said.

Garrett and I both spied on father, but I’d always been underestimated and often gleaned more information. Tremayne’s name was a common curse in my father’s mouth. Addington described him as the academy’s last holdout, and he repeatedly failed to uncover the perfect fuel for blackmail or bribes.

The events of the day reminded me of how I used to be … how I am without the library. The pheromone trap is easy to blame as the catalyst, but it was more than that. Opening day had been too stimulating, and the many insults hurled toward my friends had led me to the edge before the woman had appeared. Then, she’d touched me.

The phantom sensation of her false fingernails raking my bare skin makes me shiver. The stress I’d been under had made the woman appear unreal, and the magic she employed had been similarly artificial. The primal nature of my magicresponded, lashing out to defend me from a creature it couldn’t comprehend. I’d lost all control and sense by that point.

“Unfortunately, I can offer little comfort on that front,” Tremayne says in an apologetic tone. His serious expression forces me to refocus on the present. “The BSP possesses the authority to temporarily remove Bren from the premises. As a suspected weather mage, they’ll seek to question him in a secure, magicless environment to diminish any chance of casualties.”

Zosia’s grip on my hand tightens. Although I am equally frightened, I rub my thumb across her knuckles to soothe her. She is the first woman whose touch has given me a sense of comfort, and I want to return the favor.

“The Bureau was founded to protect supernaturals from unexplained phenomenon, just as its name suggests. Even though all magic might be unexplainable and certain magics resemble phenomena, the authorities desire order. Rules are easier to enforce if everything and everyone fits into a neatly labeled box. This is the main reason behind Apocrypha’s three Houses – Mages, Shifters, and Others, which include Fae and Vampire. Apocrypha isn’t the only higher learning institution or governing body to employ these designations. Deviations are considered threatening.” Tremayne pauses and glances around purposefully.

“Both of Gaian’s great libraries are two major deviations. They were both granted an exemption when the laws were written. Their status as sentient buildings is unique and unclassifiable. The hybrid nature of their caretakers, the book dragons and sphinxes, are also mostly exempt. This exemption isn’t granted because of their unique combination of magic and shifter, however. The library agrees to govern its own. There is a caveat, however. If forces within the library affect the world beyond her walls, the BSP can investigate.” Tremayne glances in my direction, and I understand that he does notintend to withhold the brutal reality. I appreciate the courtesy. Comprehending the harsh truth will better prepare us.

After a brief second to ascertain his motives, I drop my gaze. I’ve always feared that someone might gain insight into my magic from prolonged eye contact. Eyes are truly the window to the soul, and our souls define our power.

“Unfortunately, Bren’s magic is in this category because the world beyond the library is affected,” Tremayne continues. “Weather mages, otherwise known as atmospheric mages, are very rare and exist in a class of their own. Accounts of their power have become lore and legend rather than history. You’ve heard of the great flood described in a particular sect’s holy book?” The mage pauses while Zosia nods her assent. Her jaw is slack with wonder as she predicts his words.

“The atmospheric mage who caused the flood went unnamed, but the man who built an ark to withstand the flood waters became known to all; his name was Noah. Many supernatural historians believe the catastrophe was caused by Noah’s jilted lover – a powerful weather mage. How else did Noah know to build the ark and gather the animals? A half-century ago, an atmospheric mage in Pakistan created a devastating tropical cyclone that took 300,000 lives. Magicless and supernatural humans perished in equal numbers. A book dragon was nearly critically wounded by a tornado caused by an angry mage who’d been rejected by the book dragon a few years after the Eastern Library relocated to Nepal. That event is often considered the reason behind why the BSP allows investigation and regulation in the areas near the libraries.”

Tremayne’s recounting causes utter silence. Like Ansel, he’s a natural storyteller, but his melodious tone can’t hide the horrors couched within his words. I know very little about atmospheric mages because I’ve never considered myself one of them. Addington had convinced me that I possessed roughelemental magic. His words were a lie, of course, aimed at deceiving me so he could grasp the full potential of my power. If he could control my magic, he could create catastrophic events of biblical proportions.

“While the history lesson is morbidly fascinating, there’s another point here. The BSP named Bren, which means he asked them to investigate.” Garrett grumbles the words. His huge paw is wrapped around Zosia’s left hand – the one I’m not holding. Although they've occasionally released each other to drink or eat, I notice that their hands return to each other. My storm hadn’t been entirely disastrous if it strengthened the connection between the two of them.

Tremayne strokes his impressive beard as he contemplates my brother’s words. If I reach his age, I want an equally awesome beard. “Addington or Walthers is a fair assumption. Whoever it was didn’t know you’d changed your surname.”

Garrett nods. “We decided to cut ties with Addington once we received confirmation of his crimes.” My brother speaks for both of us by habit; he knows I prefer this because I usually dislike attention.

“Although it’s not ideal to switch subjects, Tremayne might be able to help if he understands more of the trouble we face. The nature of Addington’s crimes and his goals are pertinent to the solution.” Avery’s interjection is hesitant.

Zo’s expression falters as she sees the wisdom behind her mate’s advice. “Very well,” she sighs, “but let’s not forget the most important goal – uncovering a way to help Bren.”

“Right,” Garrett grumbles. “Are you aware of Addington’s activities?” His voice is slightly accusing as he faces the ancient mage. I contemplate how old he might be. Two hundred years is a reasonable life span among powerful supernaturals, but I think he’s surpassed that mark.

“I understand that he’s responsible for our dear librarian’s childhood imprisonment and injuries. The testing and experiments you alluded to earlier, however, are less than a rumor. Addington is capable of keeping anyone that might talk about him silent.”

Silence blankets us while the five of us share meaningful glances. Avery can’t, of course, but I swear that he participates. Zosia’s gaze is clear. Should we trust Tremayne? I’ve already made up my mind, and I nod along with Avery. Kodi shrugs, and Garrett follows with a more reluctant nod. Addington raised my brother to be his heir and powerful people don’t trust anyone. My visions indicate we can trust him, and the library trusts him. We’re also in desperate need of allies.

After we’ve given our silent input, Zosia redirects her attention to the mage. “The information we’ve gathered suggests that Walthers and Addington have been injecting fetuses with the essence he drains from supernaturals. Those are the only two names we can say with any certainty. Kodi’s father was also involved, but he’s dead now. I’m certain they have other accomplices.”

Garrett adds to Zosia’s explanation. “We believe that all of us, except Zo, were their test subjects.”

Both men appear horrified at the confirmation of their worst suspicions. “I knew they lacked morals, but I never considered anything so monstrous,” Ansel whispers in a grim tone.

---