Shadows and Runes
SHADOWS AND RUNES
ISLA DAVON
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
About the Author
Shadows and Runes
Shadows and Runes © Isla Davon 2022
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any manner or by any means, mechanical or electronic as well as photocopying, without prior written permission from the copyright owner, except for brief quotes from book reviews.
Book Design © Rai Designs
This book is entirely a work of fiction. The characters, names and events portrayed in it are fictional and from the authors imagination. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, localities, businesses or events are entirely coincidental.
BLURB
Another quiet day in the Fifth Sector library...
That is, until a group appears out of nowhere, talking about their Sectors being attacked.
Great! So there's an imminent attack heading my way.
And now I'm trapped with a group of whiny supes.
But I guess it's not all bad...
Especially when that group includes an arrogant Fae who knows he's attractive,
a possessive Shifter with a playful side, a Demon-hybrid with a soft spot...
and a Fallen Angel that embodies the word sin.
* * *
** Shadows and Runes is the first book in a paranormal why choose trilogy. It contains adult themes and bad-language which some readers may find upsetting.**
For my Family,
To whom it wouldn’t be possible to follow my dreams without.
Thank you always for your love and support.
CHAPTER ONE
His fingers fumble impatiently at her bra clasp, grasping one breast in his hand. As soon as it becomes untied, he squeezes hard and smugly grins at her over-exaggerated gasp. He flicks his tongue over her other breast before quickly loosening his belt.
I sigh. No build-up, no foreplay, just quick and messy. What a boy. I roll my eyes.
He had to be the stereotypical college jock; big muscles, no brain, and an ego the size of my reading list.
I hear another exaggerated moan and look up from the shelf I’ve been sorting. She wouldn't win an Oscar for that acting, but she certainly deserves something for going along with his sloppy handwork.
I look over to see him slam into her, hard and punishing. Her moans become louder as if she's competing in a ‘fake-it-till-you-make-yourself-believe-it’ competition.
Third place, bronze but semi-believable. Well, for Mr. Quarterback over there, it works, or at least for him chasing his own release, it does.
He quickens his pace as her moans reach a melodramatic crescendo. It feels more like I’m watching monkeys in the zoo dry hump each other. He places his hand on the book shelf behind him for leverage as he thrusts into her and grunts.
The shelves shake, and the clatter of books rings out in an echo around the area.
I don't mind a bit of casual fun. On the contrary, I’m all down for a good time when done properly—but nobody gets my beautiful books dirty or damaged.
And cum stains and books do not go together.
I make my way over to them just as he lets out a final guttural grunt. I clear my throat, giving them my best typical librarian glare. The female student stiffens before quickly covering her breasts with her arms. They turn and then give me a questioning look.
Okay, so my 5'9 stature, deep red ombre hair, curves, and casual rock style aren't your normal librarian look. The runes and sigils that covered parts of my chest, neck, and arms probably didn’t help either, looking like tattoos. But what's normal these days?
My love for books was no joke, so who cared anyway. Not me.
I give them a bored look and gesture down toward the exit.
“As exhilarating as your performance was,” I dead-pan, “you’ll have to take this little show elsewhere.”
The girl shuffles in place, rearranging her clothes, while Mr. Quarterback slowly fixes his belt, trailing his eyes down my body.
“You're the librarian here? Maybe I need to read more.”
What a quip, haven't heard that one before.
I sigh, pointing again to the exit.
“I’m sure I could find you some great books to help with your stamina, so she can have a real orgasm.”
He looks at the girl, a smug look on his face that quickly falls when she becomes flustered and starts to make her way toward the stairs. He huffs and looks toward me. “I—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand and gesture to the exit for the final time with an exhausted look.
With a final flash of annoyance in his gaze, he repositions his varsity jacket and saunters toward the exit.
I loved being situated in Detroit, but being close to Hendridge College and having to deal with these snooty or jock students was a chore at times. Them wanting to live their little ‘fantasies’ wasn't common but not completely rare either. It was annoying, to say the least.
If they got so much as a sweaty finger print on one of my books, I would hunt them down and beat them with an encyclopedia—informative and heavy.
Kids like that never appreciate the rows upon rows of vibrantly colored books or the dark mahogany shelves with their delicate ornate designs that hold them.
They don't see the beautiful high-arched ceiling or the intricate carvings laid into it. Nor the delicately designed gothic arched windows that reach toward the sky and sculpt these old walls.
No, they don't come for a thirst to learn or read, to immerse themselves in a story and consume it whole. To find comfort and solace in these warm and aged walls that hold history and knowledge.
I shake my head. Their loss.
The smell of old parchment and wood hits my nose as I brush the old spines in passing. I never get tired or less in awe of the beauty of this place or how blessed I am every day for this to be my job and home.
A slight prickle on my fingers has me glaring toward the books I’ve just brushed. A wisp of magic forms and quickly disappears.
The magic in the Library is powered by an old protection artifact known as the Autarium. It fills the Library with magic, protecting and controlling the entire building.
The magic laces itself in light wisps through the bookshelf beside me, playfully swirling around the books and wooden shelf. The old relic almost has a personality of its own, very playful and fiercely protective of its home.
I glare at the magic surrounding the shelves.
“Oh, so now you want to show up and play. Where were you five minutes ago when Barbie and Ken were having their fun.”
Not protecting my precious volumes anyway.
As if reading my thoughts, a small snippet of magic twirls out toward me and swats me on my back. The light waves flowing around me in warning not to push my luck.
I narrow my eyes playfully at the swirling tufts now dancing around me.
Chuckling, I walk toward the reception desk, passing through the many rows of tall bookshelves and writing tables.
I stop when I reach the center of the room, the sweet and delicate smells of the large open Library hitting me; the warm, woody and musty scents reach my nose and make me smile.
I loved the scent of old books and the smell of the wood that surrounded every inch of the Library. From the sculpted mahogany to the more modern rosewood tables and the small hint of dust that escaped into its corners.
There would only ever be one word for this place…Home.
I make my way toward the large desk and hear a tapping noise the closer I get.
My Library technician seems angsty today. That's not unusual for Mirin.
She is petite at 5'2, with bright pink and black pony-tailed hair that has an obsession with anything bright-colored and gothic. She has the appearance of a cute chihuahua but is actually a pitbull underneath. Even I wouldn’t mess with her on a bad day.
Add in her impressive abilities as a witch, and you’ve got one powerful and competent technician.
Thankfully she’s easily calmed most days with a good fantasy novel and some of that green muck she calls herbal tea. She drinks that stuff like it should be attached to her veins on an IV drip. Probably some secret witch concoction to make her look so young and dainty.
As I approach the reception desk, she folds her arms and tilts back in her chair to look at me, a certain glint in her eyes.
“So, Rhys?” Her tone is challenging as she raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow into her multi-colored bangs, a slant tilting her black-painted lips.
“How was last night's rendezvous with Mr. Shifter? Did the big bear eat your goldilocks…or redlocks?” She smirks.
“Mirin!” I bark.
“Was he wild and rough and raw? Oh, oh, are they bigger than wolf shifters, cause I have a fellow coven witch who—”
“Stop! Just…stop.” I cover her filthy mouth with my hands and take a look around the area. Thankfully, we didn't get a lot of patrons here, so nobody was within earshot.
I glare at her and gesture around us. She huffs before nodding.
“You’re not going to make me beg for information about your depraved sex life,” she quickly grumbles, her eyes narrowing at me, “Because we both know I will.”
She titters, a sound almost like an innocent little pixie, the complete opposite of the dirty conversation that just left her mouth.
She gives me another pleading look and turns her full black lips into a pout.
I laugh. “The only action I’ve had these days is highering the speed settings on my vibrator.”
Her eyes widen. “But yesterday, you said you couldn’t come out to Club Vilari with me because you had a date with a Bear!”
I erupt into laughter. “No, I said I had a date with Bear. That's what I named my rabbit ‘cause it's big, powerful, and can withstand a lot. Good dependable Bear.”
Mirin gapes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for some self-satisfaction, but sometimes you need a big strapping man or woman, whatever piques your taste, to give you what your hand can't.” She shakes her head.
“And a vibrator can’t bend you over…or flip you to the side…” Her eyes start to go glossy, a small tilt to her lips as she continues.
”…Or fist your hair while he—”
“Okay! I get it.”
She gives me a salacious grin.
“Well, that's decided then. You and I are going to club Vilari tonight.”
“Mirin—” She places a hand up to silence me.
“I don't care what you say. Bear can sit the night out. You need some real action.” Mirin shakes her head, her eyes narrowed as she waits for me to challenge her.
I sigh. This little spitfire wasn’t going to give up.
“Fine, but only after we close and only for a few hours.”
A dark grin spreads across Mirin's face. Oh, I better be careful tonight. She might be contemplating throwing me face-first into an orgy with that look.
“I’ll have to ask Isaac to watch the Library later.”
“Tell tall, dark, and toned, I said hi.” She titters, always teasing him.
I head past her and the reception desk and through the back doors, down to the basement level where the Vault and Records are held.
Time to complete my duties as a librarian for the day.
CHAPTER TWO
I head down the basement stairs into the Vault, the large open floor only separated by a single room for the Records. The large area is covered from floor to wall in varying shades of gray. With large white decorative half pillars flowing along the surface up to the basement ceiling, framing old fresco and tapestry art hanging in each section of the walls.
The Vault is always lit somberly, the magic here strong and old. Runes and sigils are marked throughout the room, from the floor to the ceiling and everywhere in between.
Not that you can see any of it. Only the Librarian and Guard know their locations in case of attack or threat to the Records.
I look over to my left, feeling a spark of magic flare to life. I watch on as a small wisp appears in a far corner of the floor. It twists and flutters as if dancing to a tune in the air before swiftly disappearing again.
The area to the far left has a large indentation on the floor, the only one visible to the eye. The markings are as old as all the other runes and sigils here, but why it was the only one visible, I never understood. My mentor and Librarian before me never cared to explain that part.
The Vault is basically a large floor, a magical space below the Library that protects the ‘Records.’ It acts as a divider, a space you enter before the Records room. It lends its power to protect the Records by reinforcing the entry into them. The doors leading through to the Records are impenetrable, powered, and controlled by the magic in the Vault. Only yielding to the will of the Librarian.
I place my hand on the large white marble door, ornate and intricate in its design. It rumbles slightly before slowly opening before me. Warm, bright light breaks through the darkly lit area as if the sun itself is embracing me. A sight I will never get tired of.
A room wrapped in golden light welcomes me. Rows upon rows of old books and parchment stretch from one end of the room to the next, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. They sit in the old walls themselves, carved from white and gray marble, delicate ornate shapes carved and embedded into the stone where they sit.
In the center of the room sits multiple small podiums in a line. Most are a deep rich mahogany, almost black in color. Gold sigil patterns coat the mahogany in small delicate designs, gently caressing the wood in its magic. The magic forms a protective layer over the books that sit on it.
These podiums hold the Records.
These large venerable books are as old as time itself. Their old pages open and sway with the magic surrounding them, their edges tipped in gold and bound in every color known.
The magic hums around the Records, a mind of its own as it works.
The Records archive information about every supe, from their birth, abilities, and names, to their deaths. They hold an infinite amount of knowledge. Including the information of every living and deceased supernatural being.
To gain access to this is a powerful thing.
Before the Libraries were created, different supe communities would take turns protecting the Records until the last holders, the Fae, decided to use that power for themselves.
Wars broke out, and battles to retrieve the Records from the Fae continued for years.
The Elders Council saw the destruction and, for fear of being exposed to the mortal world, placed them in the hands of an independent group, the Mages.