Page 55 of Gifted Destiny

“No.” I grimace as I search for the right words. “I trust you and the library. It’s just outside forces?”

She nods again. I’m glad the explanation suffices because I doubt I can elaborate. “Soon then?”

Her head tilts toward me as I stand again, and she makes it clear that it’s my choice to close the gap between us. I don’t hesitate. The kiss is more sweet than sexy, but my body reacts to the scent of her and the suggestion in her words and gaze.

Before I met Zosia, I’d never experienced spontaneous desire. The women I was with were insulted by my lackluster responses and often recommended medication or spells as if sharing a sly secret. There was nothing wrong with my body; it only wanted one woman.

I remember Addington bitterly informing us that sphinxes were the most sexual of all shifters. At the time, I’d just thought he wanted to shame my brother, but I understand now. He’d been angry when Zosia’s mother rejected him. Perhaps he correlated a high libido with low standards.

After his first plan failed, he’d schemed and done horrible things to connect his eldest son with the last sphinx. Theoutcome might be similar, but the situation is different. Zo isn’t a captive, and we are no longer pawns that move at the alpha’s bidding. Our bonds aren’t being manipulated or coerced by anyone other than destiny. Addington’s control has been supplanted by genuine desire, affection, loyalty, respect, and the beginnings of a love that will endure a lifetime.

I pull away from Zosia with a soft, reassuring smile. The possible timelines are still chaotic, but they’ve improved since yesterday, and I try to convey my optimism. She manages a shaky smile in return, and her fingertips stroke my palm as I retreat. The intimacy of the touch makes me shiver.

If I could meddle with time, I would use it to halt this moment. I would grant us time to explore and enjoy each other without any fears or threats looming over our heads. We could hold each other until neither of us remembered the pasts that shaped our fears. I would erase everything that holds us apart and prevents us from becoming one.

This ability doesn’t belong to me. I must grow as she has and put my trust in her and our shared destiny. I must release myself from the hold Addington has over my past and my future.

Chapter 25

Zosia

The hole in my chest yawns like an abyss as the physical distance grows between Bren and me. I feel more optimistic about moving forward, but the urgency to gather my guardians as closely as possible hasn’t abated.

I can’t explain why I feel like time is running out, but I wish the library could stay closed. Even if it was only for a day, we could spend time together, and I could get to know them as individuals. We could cuddle on the couch, watch movies, or play games. We could reinforce the emotional and physical bonds between us.

A lazy day isn’t in my future, however. The enemy’s emissary is on our doorstep, and I feel like I’m entering a battle. In a real skirmish, standing on our home turf should give us an advantage. Additionally, one of the detectives is a neutral party. Despite my mental encouragement, my unease remains when I finally order the doors to open.

The few waiting students barely glance in our direction as they veer toward their goals. They appear intent on answering a question or finishing an assignment they’d been pondering. I’ve always thought that the mission to find the right story or fact resembled a sacred quest, and I love being able to help them.Even if it all falls apart, I will remember this feeling and enjoy my brief moment as a librarian.

The BSP detectives allow the most determined students to check out their materials before approaching, but they hold my constant attention. According to lore, they’re not related by blood but cloned. This makes their eerie similarities seem more unnatural in my eyes. Pure science often creates defects in the cloning process. Is a combination of magic and science required or is it all magic?

Although they look exactly alike, their behaviors separate them. The one we don’t trust resembles a bull in a tight pen. His muscles are wound tightly with tension as he paces the small seating area, and his partner’s attempts to soothe him go unheeded.

The detective’s frustrated anger makes the library and my mates nervous. Kodi hovers close behind me, although he remains invisible to the students. Garrett somehow manages to place his body between the detectives and me the entire time they’re here. Like yesterday, Avery stands guard at my side and Bren waits in the archive room behind us.

When the trickle of students slows, the two detectives, Marks and Parks, approach the circulation desk. I’ve created a mnemonic to remember them – Marks is mellow and Parks is pissed. Although other students have entered, Marks must have compiled a list of those who were waiting for the library to open because he waits until the last one has completed their business. I watch the patron leave with envy, wishing I could follow them.

I’m sitting in the rolling chair behind the desk, and I’ve cranked the seat’s height up as high as it allows. The library has provided an ergonomic footrest to reduce the strain on my thighs. Her thoughtfulness is greatly appreciated, but her care feels lavish. I wish everyone had magical workplace accommodations.

“Ms. Abrams.” Detective Marks greets me with a curt nod. Garrett now flanks my other side, and the nondescript man’s gaze flickers to him, then Avery, then Kodi hovering just behind me. He might only be addressing me, but he knows I’m not alone. My mates’ emotions remain steady, but each of them has the capacity for violence. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us again today.”

“Of course. I apologize that our conversation was cut short yesterday.” The polite response is automatic. He doesn’t mention the phone call, and I follow his lead. “What can I help you with?” I might be polite, but I’m not going to make this easy.

“How did you lie to us?” Parks-the-pissed shoves his partner aside and tries to lean over the desk. I barely manage to prevent myself from recoiling. The counter’s width prevents him from getting too close; the goblins explained that it’s for the librarian’s protection. At the time, I’d been amused that someone might be angry over books. I understand now.

Garrett’s growl harmonizes with Avery’s hiss as the detective reaches for me. Pissed is no longer an apt descriptor. Parks appears manic and slightly unhinged. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is disheveled. Detective Marks gently pulls his partner back, but he doesn’t prevent him from speaking.

“I didn’t lie,” I confirm after I’ve recounted yesterday’s incident in my mind. It seems like a lifetime ago.

“Another lie. Even the great and powerful Librarian cannot lie to the BSP. Your first lie was when you claimed that Brennan Addington wasn’t here. Where is he if not here? How did you lie? Who are you?” Spittle flies from the detective’s lips, but the counter’s width protects me from it as well.

Garrett’s body doesn’t move, but his muscles bunch and jump. The new bond clarifies his emotions, and I see that his fury is nothing compared to the feral detective. The griffin’s frightening expression stems from his overwhelming drive toprotect his brother and me. My hand on his forearm only eases a small portion of his tension.

The antique clock behind us ticks past more than one minute while I consider my answer. The other detective is clearly irritated by his partner’s behavior, but he seems unwilling or unable to do anything about it.

The calm response I’d composed isn’t what emerges from my lips – like usual. “Why do you keep asking about Brennan Addington? How is it relevant? Are your orders to find him or the culprit responsible for the phenomenon?” My direct tone is accompanied by a shrewd gaze. “What did Jonathan Addington offer you? What did he threaten? Who are you really working for?”

Parks’ muddy brown eyes widen as my questions drive him off the counter between us. I search his reaction for emotions or signs of enchantment or coercion, but he manages to maintain his composure.

---