Page 14 of Broken Destiny

“Two husbands, huh? Can I ask why you have two husbands?” I don’t know why the concept fascinates me so much, maybe because I’ve read so many romance novels.

She shrugs a shoulder. “Why not?”

Gilly’s answer is so matter-of-fact that I consider it for a moment. Indeed, why not? Not that I could even find one man who would want me. Two would be a stretch.

I push the thoughts away as I observe what will be my working space. I don’t know how, but it’s perfectly designed for my wheelchair, and it appears as if I won’t have any issues navigating. It’s completely non-technological, but that doesn’t surprise me. Without a computer, I wonder if there’s an enormous card catalog or if the library magically keeps track of where its books are. How long will it take me to figure out the system?

The lack of a phone is almost freeing. I volunteered at an office down the street one summer. The phone was my nemesis. I hated answering it, and I hated calling people even more.

“We’ll go over your duties later,” Gilly continues, and I force myself to pay attention. Focus is not one of my strong suits. “Right now, we want to get you settled in, and the library can’t open until you have your guards. You’re vulnerable until you learn how to shift.” She eyes me out of the corner of her eye, and I look down at the floor.

“Do I have, like, a deadline in which I need to shift?” I ask curiously. Since the conditions were laid out so clearly, I have no doubt that they’ll boot me if I don’t fulfill my end of the bargain. Somehow, I don’t believe the booting will be as simple as a letter of termination.

“You’ll know when the time is right,” Gilly answers vaguely as she pushes open the door behind the circulation desk. She’s strong for how little she is, but I also notice that the doors move smoothly, which will be a boon when I’m in my chair. The hall we enter is wide. It has two entrances - one on either side - and another door that she points to.

“This is a bathroom if you need it during your shift.” She pushes the door open a crack to show the small toilet room. There are bars on the walls for me to grab onto. My breath catches. Was all this prepared for me? Is it part of the library? I hope it wasn’t a bother. I hate it when my different needs place a burden on others. The fact that magic was probably used doesn’t ease me much.

“This other door leads to your private apartment. You don’t have to worry about cleaning. My oldest one does all that.”

That’s a relief. Scrubbing and cleaning aren’t easy for me, and I hate doing it. The apartment is small, but it’s perfect. A huge bed, far larger than anything I’d ever need, takes up most of the room. I blink in surprise as it temporarily captures all my attention.

“Um, why is the bed so big?”

Gilly’s lip twitches. “In case you want to sleep in your sphinx form, of course.”

“Of course,” I repeat in a mumble like I’d known that all along. The thought of shifting is still alien to me.

I force my attention away from the bed to examine the rest of the room. It’s set up flawlessly for someone with a wheelchair. The refrigerator is half-size, the stove and counters lower as well. Everything is in reach, and there aren’t any tall cabinets in case I don’t want to stand up. The space isn’t filled with too much furniture, and everything is colored in soothing greens and browns. The single window makes it slightly dark in the apartment, but that’s my only complaint. It’s covered in thick green curtains. A half-open door leads to a full bath, complete with a special bathtub that makes me sigh just looking at it. Standing for a shower gets tedious, but it’s all I’ve ever known. The orphanage didn’t have a bathtub either.

I can see myself being happy here, and I fight back the tears. Suddenly, I’ve become an emotional mess. I’ve never had a place of my own. The area is not just set up for my comfort; it seems made for me.

“This is amazing,” I whisper.

“I’m so glad you like it, Miss. Your clothes are over there.” She points to a short dresser. “And there’s some special massage oil that Master Ansel procured for you on top of the dresser. It will help your pain if you insist on standing.”

I can’t hold it back any longer as I stare at the little tub of salve. A tear slips down my cheek. Gilly makes a clucking sound, and I suck in a watery breath. “There, there, child. You’re one of us now and protector of the library. Whatever you need, just ask for it.”

“I’m not used to…” I stutter but stop speaking when more tears threaten.

“I know.” She pats my hand in a maternal manner. “It will take some getting used to, but it’s nothing you don’t deserve. You remember that.” I nod even though that’s going to be the hardest part for me - believing I’m worthy of all this. “Take a minute to get used to your new place. When you’re ready, we’ll start talking about your guardians and your job.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I start to object but she blinks out before I can finish the sentence. One minute she’s there and the next she’s not. It’s just another thing that I’ll have to adjust to. I shrug at her absence and snoop into the drawers in the dresser. The clothes are much nicer than what I’m used to: satiny shirts and stretchy pants in comfortable, flattering fabrics. My face colors at the panties and bras. They’re all the perfect size and far more delicate than the bargain store or hand me downs I dealt with at the orphanage. I caress one of the silky, bikini-cut panties and sigh with pleasure. I could get used to this.

The bottom drawer is filled with weird scraps of fabric that don’t exactly look like clothes. I pull one out. It’s a shirt, but there are holes cut in the back. Why would I need holes in the back of my shirt? An image of a sphinx fills my mind. Right. Sphinxes have female shaped torsos. In fact, every picture I’ve seen of a sphinx has her boobs hanging out. (Are there any male sphinx? It’s just another point for me to research.) Maybe shirts are a great idea because my shift won’t be like a wolf’s or a tiger’s. I’ll be a strange human-animal hybrid. I refold the odd shirt and hobble to the bathroom. The mirror is huge, and I almost flinch away from my reflection. The bends in my legs are apparent in the shape-fitting jeans and dark circles underline my eyes. For the first time in my life, I wish I had makeup.

Hesitating only a moment, I open one of the vanity drawers. It’s filled with cosmetics, moisturizers, and other containers I don’t actually know the use of until I read the labels. I feel like a princess. Remembering why I came into the bathroom in the first place, I rest my crutches against the sink, turn around, and rest my butt on the low counter. I lift my shirt and twist around to see my back. The scraps of fabric made me wonder if I could see my wings in my human form, but my back is the same as it’s been since the monster finished with me. Two long, jagged scars trace the inner edges of my shoulder blades, and I vaguely remember a voice mumbling about cutting out my wings. I hope he didn’t. Duggar said they’re still there; I really hope he’s right.

Sighing in frustration and shaking with remembered fear, I release my shirt and apply a little of the makeup, just enough to cover the dark circles and make my pale lashes darker. While my face looks fresher now, nothing will change the fact that from the waist down, I’m a freak. I square my shoulders, retake my crutches, and leave the bathroom. I’m a freak with a purpose, I remind myself. Time to get to work.

Gilly is waiting when I emerge from my room with renewed determination. She motions for me to take a seat on the rolling chair that puts my wheelchair to shame. It has an impressive up and down lever, and it adjusts easily, allowing me to see beyond the counter but also sit comfortably at the desk.

For the next several hours, the female goblin goes over the areas of the library and explains all the office workings. By the time she allows me a break, my brain feels full to bursting. I don’t think there’s any chance I’ll be able to remember any of it, but there seems to be a special place in my head where all the information sinks into, settling in a place I can access it. Maybe I am made for this job.

I’m prepared for the second round of information when Gilly suddenly straightens and looks toward the front foyer. “The first of your guardians is here,” she declares in an ominous tone at the same time as a shiver courses down my spine. It isn’t a good or bad tremor necessarily, more like the first warning tingle of someone taking an interest in me. I wonder if I’ll feel something similar every time someone enters the library. That could get overwhelming.

A hesitant knock on the door that separates the foyer from the rest of the library echoes through the ground floor, and I look at Gilly. She shrugs, staring expectantly at me, so I shrug back and call out for whoever it is to enter. The door opens to admit a fabulously tall, lean man who immediately makes my heart thump. I can’t tell if it’s attraction or fear.

He strolls toward the desk, and I wonder if Gilly was just pulling my leg when she said he would be one of my guards. He’s carrying a package and doesn’t look as if he wants a job. When he’s ten paces from the desk, I realize that the strange silver blankness in his eyes means he’s blind. My heart skips another beat. He can’t see me or my brokenness.

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