Page 61 of The Librarian of Souls
“Augustine,” she chastises me, and it feels glorious. “I’m hanging up. I’ll text when I get home, go participate, or whatever.”
“Fine, fine, fine. I need to stop by my office to collect a few books, and then I shall be home as well.”
“Good, see you athome.”
She hangs up and my sands are in a riot.Home.She admits that my house is her home.
I have a new goal, to singularly rip every update from the creatures in that room so I can rush to my mate’s side. Tonight, I am going to worship her and make her forget her name before she falls asleep in my arms so I can do it all over again in her dreams. My sands beneath my skin ripple and I blink to keep my eyes clear. The meeting must continue.
I am actually smiling when I walk back into the room.
Orthia and her human are gone, and the meeting has resumed. A succubus discusses having to take a client to the hospital after a feeding got out of hand during their session.
“I saved that fucker’s life. The least he could do is buy me a new dildo.”
With a sigh, I pick up my notebook and make a note of the near miss. This demoness is getting very close to having an intervention or removal. But even as I think of upcoming schedules, I cannot stop thinking about what Joanna would want to do this summer. Could I convince her to take a week or two off? Maybe even go to the seaside, re-enact one of her little dreams.
The meeting goes on and I am lost in thought for nearly all of it. Only when Deg’Doriel does his final wrap-up do I look at my phone to check the time and for Joanna’s message. Except she is not at home.Going to armoury. Security called about an issue.
Sands explode from my hand and shatter the phone. Arlo jumps nearly a foot in the air, and Ramón hisses. Nora looks like she is about to say something, but I am already rising from my chair.
“What the fuck, Ravenscroft?” Deg’Doriel demands.
I shove my notebook into my satchel and tug my arms through my jacket. “I must go. Leave a message at the library if you need me.”
I storm out of the church and into the courtyard. I do not even know how long ago that message was sent. My control had snapped like brittle China before I noted the timestamp.
What was she thinking? Of all of the places to go to alone. For Christ’s sake, does my human have a death wish? Does she?
I bound down the pavement with one clear motivation. Find my mate and force her to see the error in this course of action. I have made my feelings about her returning to that place alone clear as crystal. Even if Nora is certain the lingering magic is harmless, Joanna is not to go there alone.
The scaffolding comes into view quickly. As my boots slap against cracked concrete with each hurried step, something in my chest tightens in a way I do not understand. My claws dig into my palms as I rush into the lobby and pass the security guard at the desk without a second glance. If he tries to stop me, I will kill him. I will not be slowed. My sands pulse erratically under my flesh. They push out of my pores before boring back inside my skin.
My eyes burn and my sharpened teeth grind together. Every ounce of control I have is slipping from my grasp as the lift takes me into the basement. I will not fail Joanna again. That night will not repeat itself. I will get to my human on time, my mate, my queen.
The door to the site office is closed when I round the corner in the darkened hallway, but I can hear the low rumble of arguing. The voices are silent when I wrap my fingers around the handle, waiting to hear how many people will die tonight. A yelp, high and familiar, vibrates through the door. I do not even think. I ram the door with my full strength. Joanna lies on the floor as Lance towers over her. The scarred man stands next to him, bulging arms crossed and a scowl on his face. When he meets my gaze, I see it, the shift in his eyes and how he bristles in my presence. The overwhelming taste of anger in the air cannot douse the recognition of this man’s scent. He’s a monster, a predator, but he has been cornered by a bigger threat.
“Jameson.” He growls and unfolds his arms, claws catching in the light. “Lance, back the fuck up.”
Lance finally tears his eyes away from my queen, and I see the mania on his face, the way it twists his lips and furrows his brows. Even if the Fae magic left lingering in these walls is harmless, something else has sunk its teeth into Lance Jameson. Or perhaps he has always been this way. His greying hair is mussed and the shadow of hair on his jaw only ages him further. He reeks of desperation and nothing more– nothing is altering the whipping red aura around him except his own emotions trying to claw their way out of him.
When he looks at me, I see the blood drain from his face.
“You,” he seethes. “How the fuck-”
Lance’s question cuts into a screech when I look down at Joanna. Her right cheek is stained red and tears shine in her eyes. If I had control before, it vanishes now. My spines burst through my jacket, hardening and flexing against my skin as my body morphs. Finally, he will get to see the monster. No more control, only hunger.
I stalk over him, sands lashing out at his limbs. I lift him off the ground, sands racing from my grip to his skin.
“Drop him, Sandman, or she gets it.”
The other being. So quickly, I forgot he existed when I saw my chance to destroy this repugnant excuse of a man. My Joanna whimpers, her heart racing and the terror rotting away her sweetness nearly brings me to my knees. He grips her throat, claws pricking the delicate skin so close to my mark. I sneer and throw Lance into the shelves on the other side of the room. His body crumbles in such a gloriously satisfying way.
My chest aches as I wait to see what he will do now. Joanna’s aura flickers in and out of my vision as I stare down the monster. Sands pour from my body as I watch him shift, bones cracking and skin moulting enough for me to recognise what he truly is, a Gnoll.
“This Fae shit ain’t worth dying over.” His voice is rougher. “You’re gonna let me leave, or I tear her fucking throat out.”
“She does not leave this room.”
