Page 60 of The Librarian of Souls
Augustine stands abruptly and grips my chin with clawed fingers. Pin pricks of pain make my soft skin tingle and my bottom lip juts out in a pout. For a moment, he is distracted looking at my lips, licking his own slowly before he turns the heat of his gaze full onto me. I swallow slowly.
“You are doing the best you can. Forces outside of your control are working against you. If those imbeciles cannot see how integral your work is, they do not deserve you.”
My shoulders slump. I have heard this speech many times, but it never gets rid of all the feelings or thoughts trapped in my head. That is something that will take time, and I have plenty of it now.
“You are doing exceptionally well, mon abeille,” Augustine continues, his grip loosening just enough for me to bite my lip. Another blush spreads across my cheek at the praise. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
He pulls me in for a kiss and it tastes like reassurance. The flavours of Augustine and comfort coat my tongue as I press harder into his lips, searching and craving more of him. He indulges me by letting me lead this kiss, stroking my tongue against his until my lips tingle and my thoughts start to slow.
“So sweet,” he murmurs against my lips. “Now, shall we go home so I may show you just how exceptional I believe you are?”
22
Augustine
35 days
Ispent the rest of the weekend trying to convince Joanna her job is not worth it, that she should allow me to spoil, ravish, and worship her endlessly. Still, she insists on proving to Patrick that she is not going to back down from his threats, even if it is putting her in danger by staying. Which it absolutely is. I could taste the treacherous disdain in that office when I collected her for lunch today. Patrick stared daggers into my chest the moment I walked into that office to takemon abeilleaway for thefullhour of her lunch. I am not sure what has poisoned him against me exactly, but I do not care. He is a parasite sucking the life from my queen and I will remove him before he drains her.
Monday was subtly different. There was a flavour in the air that made my sands roil with hunger. It is not the employees’ fear or Joanna’s exhaustion that she believes she is hiding from me. It is dark and murderous. There is definitely some form of creature in that office, but Joanna never allows me to linger in anyone’s company. She believes I am going to cause some sort of scene if any of those silly drones approach me.
She is probably correct in that assumption, but I would never, will never, embarrass her in such a way.
At our usual table in the small French cafe, Joanna shows me the file of a man who looked exceedingly average, and perhaps a tad grumpy.
“He knew about the sh-stuff,” she whispers before taking a large bite of her pain au chocolat, crumbs falling onto the small plate tucked under her chin. “He worked a couple of jobs for us last summer, but he’s got a big scar on his face this summer.”
“Scar withstanding,” I say, drinking my weak chai latte. “I would need to meet and speak with them to be able to tell you what they are.”
“I will see what I can do, but I think it’s this guy causing problems and getting humans killed for it.”
“And you are sure Patrick is not…” I wave my fingers around instead of saying the exact words I wish to say. To me, it makes perfect sense for the mastermind behind all this to be Joanna’s boss, who has recently returned from a midlife crisis. He also has the funds and security to ruin his own venture if the results are worth it.
“I-” Joanna stops herself and takes a drink of her sugary coffee, thinking about that. Her fingers drift my bond mark, the subtle shining dots turning pink under the pressure of her fingertips. Something primal inside of me threatens to rumble out as she seeks comfort in my mark on her throat. I recross my legs and lean back subtly in my chair to ease the growing ache between them. “I think he is just human.”
Even through the haze of aromas and auras in the cafe, I catch a hint of something tart from my mate and quickly change the subject to plans for Thursday evening to attend the theatre again. Joanna’s cheeks burst into a deep shade of red and I cannot hide the smug satisfaction it brings me.
The sooner she leaves this job, which she has insisted she will not do until she has a new role in place, the better. Perhaps Kragnash has something with the city that would fit her specialities. It would be easy enough to secure her an interview, or maybe I could simply convince her to work with me at the library. Then we could spend our days together, recreating her dreams and making new ones. I only want for her to taste of sweetness and pleasure if I can help it.
“Orthia.”
Nora sounds like she is about to cry when the sea witch walks into the room, interrupting the meeting. She looks on edge, avoiding my gaze as she stands in the doorway. She smells of the docks and her aura is as dark as ever. I would be pleased to see her if it were not for the woman clutching her hand like it was anchoring her to reality. As I stare at the new woman, her eyes firmly looking just over the heads of everyone, I swear I see them go milky white. Her aura glows a soft, subtle pink around her that is almost imperceptible. She tastes of sea salt and rage, just like Orthia though. I make a note of both of them in my notebook.
“You’re late,” Deg’Doriel growls.
A vicious sneer crosses his face as he looks at the two women. Unphased as if he already knows who this new human is, our demon’s tail flicks with light agitation. Another note in my book, double underlining the need to have a private meeting with Deg’Doriel once again to discuss keeping the group updates noted fully.
“We aren’t staying,” Orthia says. “I won’t return until I know that he has righted the wrong he has committed.”
“Witch.” My eye roll is barely contained as I stare down Orthia. “My mate is perfectly content-”
My phone ringing cuts through my speech, Joanna’s cheeky grin over a mug flashing across the screen. I hold my expression, but I am nearly overjoyed to have a reason to skip this discussion with Orthia. While I have no desire to explain my actions to the witch, I will in order to avoid ruining Orthia’s return to the group. I excuse myself quickly, breezing past the two women and turning down the hall to obtain a level of privacy. The door to the meeting shuts behind them quietly and cuts me off from the group’s emotions and scents.
“Impeccable timing, mon abeille. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just walking out the building, so I thought I’d call while I walk to the house. Is the meeting over?”
“Not exactly, but you know I am more than happy for you to interrupt me.”
