Page 88 of Gifted Destiny

I contemplate telling her more, but I doubt it will matter. She seems as if she’s attempting to process what I’ve already said.

“At first, I didn’t believe Jonathan could commit a crime so heinous that Cronos felt compelled to step in. Since then, I’ve learned that some natures are similar regardless of upbringing.”

“You knew of Cronos before this incident? They aren’t known in our … um … where we come from.” Garrett’s words are slow as he deliberately picks each one. He may not understand our situation – none of us really does – but he must also sense that the Timekeeper’s information wasn’t complete.

“Of course,” K replies. “As an integral part of our government, they monitor everything but are rarely involved. We know about the other timelines, but I didn’t know they could interact.”

The older sphinx’s words confirm my suspicion that every move we make is being monitored. Her tone also indicates that I shouldn’t pursue the topic, and I silently agree. We can’t anger Cronos when we are doing their bidding. I’m not as strong with my link to the library so dulled, and Kodi’s absence feels more like a hostage situation than a necessity based on his unique characteristics. I won’t risk losing him again.

Chapter 40

Bren

I’ve said little since the Timekeeper appeared; my mind is occupied with a million details and theories. The only fact I can confirm is that Fin’s time meddlers belong to a corporation called Cronos.

An official organization that oversees time? It’s ludicrous! Even without the ability to manipulate time, Cronos is powerful. The Timekeeper’s ignorance was the first sign of their power, and this woman’s distrust is the second. Creating mindless drones is one thing, but manipulating an entity that appears to have free will is another. I have so many questions, but each one jeopardizes our safety.

“Jonathan Addington is one of your mates? I thought his sons were your daughter’s guardians.”

“You’re nothing like my daughter’s Rhett, are you?” The woman, helpfully dubbed by their first initials, cocks her head as she studies my brother. Her gaze turns to me next, but I look away. “You are very different, too,” she muses.

I really hope so. I hadn’t liked the other me.

“We think our Addington altered his sons’ genetics in utero,” Zosia says off-handedly as if discussing the weather. “Avery is presumed to be the same.”

Confusion flits across K’s face. “But vampires don’t have a fetal stage,” she protests.

Zo’s ears twitch with surprise. “Avery did. He’s a born vampire.”

The older woman’s mouth drops open, and I wonder if Avery is grateful for his vision. If I were granted sight for a certain period in my life, it would be wasted on this experience.

“The Avery duClair we know was turned as a child. I’ve only met him once, but he’s well known because his turning didn’t cure his blindness as his mother hoped.” The older woman shakes her head while I absorb this information.

Every new detail confirms my suspicions. If circumstances coalesce into a world that has the same individuals, wouldn’t they be born similarly? Garrett and I might be different due to Addington’s experiments, but Zosia and Avery should be more similar.

“And yes, Jonathan is my guardian,” K continues. “He didn’t become one until after both his boys were born, however. My mother retained her post until my daughter’s first birthday.” The recognizable shadow of grief darkens the woman’s elegant features. Which circumstances were altered to offer this library’s caretakers a loving relationship?

“Why are you so willing to release one of your guardians?” Avery asks smoothly.

The woman chuckles wryly. “That’s a very good question.”

I clamp my lips shut before I ask whether she was given a choice. Regardless of whether I think Cronos is an authoritarian overlord or not, asking questions pertaining to them might cause trouble. I don’t have any control over this strange situation, regardless of the Timekeeper’s claims.

Zosia’s tail thumps when K doesn’t answer immediately. She seems lost in a thought or memory but comes back to herself with the gesture. “When Cronos presented us with thedecree, the accusations against Jonathan were steep. Although I banished him from the library, I resisted believing in them for a time. Love can make a person blind.” She speaks this last sentence to herself as she gazes over the half-wall into the bright blue sky.

Visually, the world is perfect. If it weren’t for other clues, I might have attributed its wrongness to being a stranger in another’s timeline. Nothing about this world looks as false as it feels, but I wonder if this is simply because we don’t belong here.

“‘They say love is blindness of heart; I say not to love is blindness.’” When K blinks at me, I add, “It’s a quote from Victor Hugo. Of course, Shakespeare said it first, but I like this reiteration.”

K’s assessment is familiar. It’s the look people give me when trying to decide whether I’m brilliant or bizarre.

Garrett shifts restlessly on his feet. “Is your mate on his way? Is he willing to comply with this decree?”

K nods, blinking rapidly. I think she might have something in her eye until I note the sparkle of tears. I can’t imagine anyone crying over Addington. The familiar sound of the stairwell door barely registers beyond my shock, which is why I’m unprepared when our father – no, J – rounds the corner.

Three men accompany the doppelganger, but I barely notice them. The subtle differences between him and our father are probably invisible to most. Garrett and I were attuned to his moods for twenty years; every action was geared to prevent an outburst that might lead to violent behavior.

Unlike Garrett, this doppelganger presents a mirror image until he ventures closer. As he gets closer, I see tiny wrinkles extending from the corners of his eyes, indicating this man smiles and laughs more than the one we’re familiar with. He’s not doing either right now, but his expression is still unfamiliar. The outward portrayal of shame, regret, sadness, and moreturns this man into a stranger. Addington would never reveal those emotions or allow his posture to be anything but perfectly straight.

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