Desire

-BOOKSTORE VISIT-

On my way back from the beach, I couldn't resist the allure of my favorite bookstore—the same one where I had stumbled upon that intriguing book about incubi. Stepping inside, a sense of strange familiarity washed over me, as though I'd just returned home, even though I hadn't.

I wandered through the aisles, the shelves brimming with books on a myriad of topics. Some of these volumes were older than I was, their pages aged and yellowed, filled with stories and knowledge accumulated over generations. There was something truly captivating about the passage of time held within those pages.

As I ventured deeper into the labyrinthine rows of books, I felt a peculiar sensation. It was as if the world around me started to blur, and then suddenly, everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the bookstore. Instead, I found myself standing in the midst of an opulent library, its shelves lined with ancient tomes. At the center of the room, seated confidently on a grand desk, was Joseph.

As I found myself in this peculiar library, face to face with Joseph, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—awe, frustration, and a hint of amusement.

"Yes, kitten?" he responded to my bewildered greeting, a smirk playing on his lips.

I couldn't hold back my irritation. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you summon me in the midst of my day. Do you know that I have things to do, just like any normal person?"

Joseph's expression remained composed as he explained, "I wasn't able to sense you at all, you were completely off my grid."

I furrowed my brows, puzzled by his concern. "Why does that even matter to you?" I questioned.

He replied earnestly, "Now that you are a part of my life, I want to make sure you are safe and that no harm is coming your way."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his protective instincts. "I'm not a part of your life, Joseph. Being a part of your life means actually meeting you and Lucien in person," I retorted.

Joseph, ever calm and patient, replied, "That will come with time."

My frustration grew. "You're going to have me waiting until I get old and die. Remember, you're the immortal one. You have that kind of time. I don't."

There was a moment of silence, as if he was genuinely considering my words. "Look," I continued, "I just know that if I don't get to meet you two by the end of the month, I'll definitely work on a way to block you out even more and erase myself from your mind. I don't know what voodoo lady I'll have to see in the Congo or in the swamps of Louisiana, but I'll do it."

Joseph's voice carried a hint of concern, "You'd end up dying."

I shrugged, my determination unshaken. "There's always a remedy. Even if it has a few side effects. It can work well enough until the cure is found. Honestly, there's nothing that some herbs can't fix."

Joseph sighed, acknowledging my tenacity. "That's what you think."

I changed the subject, curiosity getting the best of me. "So, how exactly was I off your radar?"

He explained, "I tried spying on you, but after you started drinking that thing, you became a blur. All I was able to see was that man you were with."

I nodded, understanding the situation better now. "Ah, I see."

He then added, "Then, after that, I tried to see if I could summon you back here, but it was like trying to get past a bulletproof door."

I didn't have much to say after that. "I need to go; you caught me while I was book shopping. I'm pretty sure I ended up scaring people with my falling out and being unresponsive."

Joseph's tone softened as he bid me farewell, "Until we meet again."

With that, the darkness surrounding me gave way to consciousness. I found myself lying on a vintage leather couch in the bookstore's back room, the concerned bookkeeper and a hovering employee by my side.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" the bookkeeper asked with genuine concern.

I sat up, taking in my surroundings. The brick wall in front of me was adorned with black-and-white pictures of various plantation homes, but one image stood out—the very location I had been visiting in my astral projections.

"Where is this plantation?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

The bookkeeper offered to help, and she dialed a friend's number, putting him on speaker. He revealed that the plantation was Oak Alley in Vacherie, Louisiana, and he mentioned a nearby cottage for rent at a discounted price due to hurricane season.

Excitement bubbled within me, and I took over the call. "I'll take it as soon as tonight. I can drive out tomorrow to grab the keys."

"Okay dear, that sounds good," he replied. "I'm Demetrius, by the way."

"I'm Letavia," I introduced myself. It seemed my journey was taking an unexpected turn, leading me closer to the mysteries I had been chasing.