Page 23 of The Librarian of Souls
“This will only cause problems.”
“Deg, she is one human. What harm could possibly befall our union?” Augustine’s gaze flicks to me and heat rises in my body at the lust in it. I wrap the flimsy blanket tighter around my chest. Embarrassment sets my skin abuzz, but I don’t hate the feeling.
“Oh yeah, that is easy for you to say with your soul-melding bullshit, Ravenscroft.” Deg’Doriel swipes a clawed hand over his massive face. “What about Ramón or one of the fucking vampires?”
“What do you mean melding?” I ask, my voice a little stronger than before. “I agreed to a relationship.”Give yourself to me, forever…
“Oh, sweetheart.” His tone drips with venom and condescension. “You agreed to so much more than that. Didn’t she, Auggie? Worked your sands until they were soaked to get her to say yes, didn’t you?”
“Stop,” Augustine seethes at my side, but the words hit hard.
Normal sex that regular people have doesn’t look like what I dreamt about. It doesn’t involve chases, games, or saying no when you mean yes. It is boring and lacklustre and human. I know that much. The shame of my fantasies isn’t something that gets thrown in my face usually, because I don’t let people know them. But my heat-of-the-moment commitment to Augustine is just another item on my to-do list of shame.
One bit of affection, of indulgence to my dark desires, and I agreed to be his forever, in body and soul without even knowing what that meant because I thought it was just a part of the roleplay. What the fuck have I done? What has he done?
The soft sands that were supporting me grip harder, wrap around my arms and torso and drag me across the tarp I’m on. I flail at the abrupt shift and end up clutching Augustine’s damp shirt. All three men look down at me quickly before looking at each other.
“Don’t what? Tell the truth? That you manipulated her subconscious and bonded yourself to her?”
Augustine stands and my weak grip slides down his body. Blood from my arms smears down his side as my fingers dig into his trousers. My head rolls as I focus on the way it ruins the soft weave of his trousers.
“Like you have any room to talk, hellspawn. Why are you so against this?” A clawed hand settles on my head, petting me, shoving me like a scared dog back behind Augustine, but I am too dizzy to fight it.
“In my opinion, ignoring the bond at this point will kill the girl.” Nash shrugs, like it might rain later.
“Then so be it! What is so odd about that? They die all the time.”
Whether this week or in forty years, my inevitable death is simply a fact, like the sun rising or Patrick having sangria for breakfast. To him, to all of them, my death would mean nothing because it is barely a blip in their lives. What did Augustine say? That he has lived for as long as humanity? Has he done this before and watched his partner wither away to bones?
I am struck with a thought. Who do I have close enough for my death to cause a ripple in their own existence? I am replaceable at my job, and I haven’t gotten more than a one-word text from my friends in a month. My moms have been dead since I was sixteen. There is no one in my life. My existence is one of monotony and slogging through days exhausted. I’m a number on a census, a Tuesday lunch you forget about because it barely even registered.
If I died because Augustine, the boogeyman, some ageless dark monster, decided he didn’t care any more, it would matter to no one. And yet, that would be the most exciting thing that ever happened in my short life.
My breath falters in my chest, before trying to rise faster and faster while not actually leaving my mouth. Each time I try, it gets choked out by some invisible force. My existence doesn’t matter. Nobody would notice I died because my life is a waste. I am worse than a drone because at least they served a purpose. I start to feel light-headed, panic making my limbs tingle and ache even more than before.
“Jesus Christ.” Augustine drops to my level and takes my face in his hands, black veins appearing on his golden skin.
“Don’t say that name to me,” Deg’Doriel hisses. “And you have no idea what harm this will cause. For fucks sake.”
“Aug-Augustine?”
“Joanna.” He swipes his blunt thumbs through the muck on my cheeks. His next words come out in rapid French, blurring into one. I am not even sure he realises he isn’t speaking English. A hand moves to my nape, into the spot that burns from his bite, fingers digging into the muscles until it eases the rising tension. His thumb massages the base of my scalp until my lips part and my head feels heavy. “There you are. Take a deep breath.”
“Disgusting.”
“Seeing as I am no longer needed, I shall take my leave. I have already missed a call from Emmi this morning.” Nash grips the corded leather leash from his dog, Buster, who leads him around us. “See you on Tuesday.”
There is something about being reminded of the time when you have lost complete sense of it, that feels like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. The gasp that leaves my mouth is overdramatic. How much time had I lost? What time was it? I clamour up to my feet, awkward and aware of the men staring at me. The blanket sticks to my skin uncomfortably and my balance is all over the place. It almost feels like I’ve drunk a whole bottle of wine myself.
Or lost a lot of blood.
When I was nineteen, and desperate to keep my bed in the student flatshare I was in, I donated plasma regularly. It was easy cash for when I needed to buy textbooks or coffee. But often, I would leave too soon and still feel a bit unsteady on my feet. The clinics always made me uncomfortable. The nurses were always a little too eager to take a stab at the donors.
This feels about three times worse. As I grip Augustine’s arm, my stomach threatens to fall right out of my body.
“Joanna?” He sounds concerned, curious, confused, and a slew of other C words I am sure, but my mind is running a million miles a minute about how I was going to explain to Patrick I missed our morning call. Gary will have found the mess at the site office, my blood all over the floor.
I have to fix this, I can do that.
