“Unless he has been followed and brought some of his past along with him.”

Olivia stormed across the room, charging at him like a bull. “Give the man a chance. He’s here because I called and asked him to tell his side of the story.”

“Start by asking him how he came to be close enough to lure Mathias to his doom.”

What was Marrok insinuating? Confusion tangling her thoughts, she stared up at her father, who still stood in the doorway. “Richard?”

Her father did not meet her stare. Instead, he looked at Marrok, his violet eyes strained.

“Invite me in.”

“Why should I?” Marrok leaned against the door, clearly in no hurry to get out of the way.

“I’ve waited nearly a quarter of a century to meet Olivia. I simply want to explain—”

“All of it. Not just the heroic bits.”

Richard nodded earnestly. “Everything.”

Still Marrok hesitated. “It is for Olivia I do this, not as any favor to you.”

“She is your mate. You want what’s best for her.”

“Do not ever forget that,” Marrok growled, then stepped back. “Enter.”

Richard crossed the threshold with a shiver. “Interesting magic circle. Who drew it?”

“Merlin.”

Richard raised a brow and looked around the cottage. Olivia stared too, trying to see it through his eyes.

“Electric lights, running water…” He sauntered in, then looked around the corner to the kitchen. “An oven, a microwave. Merlin was not alive to draw a magic circle around this structure.”

“I have demolished and rebuilt several times in this exact spot.”

“It’s a good line, but not infallible. Fading. The Anarki can be very determined.”

“You should know. Did you come here to discuss the protection of my dwelling or talk to your daughter?”

“We are beginning with a less than friendly relationship.” Richard’s words held a note of censure.

“You know precisely why.”

Olivia had had enough. “You both are talking around me and it’s really annoying.”

Marrok turned to her with burning eyes. “You deserve the truth. Make him give it to you.”

“You keep saying that. What truth?”

Her father sighed and sat on the sofa. “I knew exactly where Mathias was most vulnerable because…”

“Go on.” Marrok’s growl said he was quickly losing patience.

“I was once one of the Anarki.”

“You are being modest,” Marrok sneered.

Richard wrung his hands and sent Olivia an expression that implored her to understand. “I was Mathias’s second in command.”

Olivia’s horrified gasp shattered the quiet. She backed away until her knees hit the sofa. She sank down onto it, before her Jell-O legs gave out.

Her father, in league with Mathias?

“You must understand,” Richard rushed to his knees before her. “I was young and idealistic when I joined him. I was scarcely out of apron strings when his ideas of equality seduced me. He showed me the squalor of the Deprived. Their shanties, the discrimination they suffer, the vile hate they often endure for nothing more than having mixed blood. It horrified me. Mathias sounded so forward-thinking; at a time when humans here in England tore themselves apart in some stupid civil war, he spoke of fairness and tolerance, doing away with a cruel establishment.”

“But he…killed people. He raped women and enslaved children.”

“Eventually, I saw that. But when first presented with the evil he was capable of, he made rape and murder sound necessary, the ends justifying the means.”

“And sometimes, for the mere sport of hearing innocent people scream,” Marrok added.

Richard nodded, but said nothing.

Olivia looked back and forth between the two men. Neither had asked her to choose between them…yet.

Then something horrific occurred to her. “You participated in Mathias’s cruelties?”

His face a mask of agony, Richard looked much older than he had yesterday. “Yes.”

She recoiled, backing away until Marrok placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.

“You’re wondering how I could do such a thing. In the centuries since, I have wondered that myself. Sometimes, I still hear the screams…” Richard choked. “I wanted to believe we were doing something that would change magickind for the better by opening opportunities for wizards and witches of all classes. I allowed myself to be led blindly. Youth and ignorance are no excuse…but they are the only ones I have to offer.”

Well, she had wanted answers about her separation from her father. Now she had them. Bile crept up her throat. All the time she’d been building up a hero in her head, he’d been running from the fact he’d raped, murdered, and conscripted innocent people.

The rest of her questions—the symbol, the diary, the past—mattered, but not now. Not when she was this overwhelmed.

“I’ve alienated you.”

Olivia wanted to reassure him, but was stunned to her very soul.

“I’m trying to…process all you’ve said.”

“As you should. I’m hoping you can set it aside for a few minutes. There are more important things to discuss. Namely, your future. I have remained hidden and many think me dead. But by virtue of Bram displaying you at his party, now everyone knows you exist. Your magical signature tells them your bloodline. Through your untrained thoughts, some now know I am alive, and the Book of Doomsday is here in this cottage. It will be mere days, or hours, before Mathias learns all this as well. Then, I fear, your human mate will be unable to save you.”

“We have had this conversation.” Marrok’s very tone warned him.


“I’m not certain she understood the full import. I have knowledge of the diary. I can evade the Anarki.” He stared at Marrok, eyes pleading. “She is my only child, and I have just found her. Please, I beg you, let her come with me and bring the diary. With them, I can break your curse, keep Mathias at bay, provide you peace.”

“Or harm my mate and turn one of the most powerful objects in existence against magickind. How am I to know which?” Marrok edged in front of her and casually fingered the handle of the broadsword.

The sting of shock and anger lashed at half of her. The other half…the foolish, romantic half, loved that Marrok was so willing to protect her.

A pounding on the door interrupted them. Olivia glanced at the time on Marrok’s cell phone in her hand. Not yet five thirty in the morning.

Keeping Olivia behind him, Marrok edged to the door. “As busy as the bloody Oxford Circus Underground Station. Who is it?”

“It’s Bram. You have grave problems.”

“I do, indeed. Richard Gray is under my roof, and you are on my doorstep.” He glanced at Olivia. “I could say more, but prudence begs me to stop there.”

“Funny. But shove off and listen.”

Olivia’s heart beat faster. If Bram was arriving with the sun, it couldn’t bode well.

“Since my party last night, I set a guard duty near your property, just in case—”

Marrok opened the door with his sword raised threateningly. “You have no right. It is my property to hold.”

“Lower that, damn it.” Bram raked his hand through his unusually mussed hair. “I set the guard duty because I suspected the Anarki would be at your door soon. I was right.”

“We saw and heard nothing.”

“Because Lucan and Duke stopped the five dark wizards before they came near your door. They were sent to kill you.”

Marrok snorted at that.

“Agreed. But they were ordered to take Olivia to Mathias. They were told she was ‘valuable.’ Do you want to learn why the hard way?”

Given the way thunder crossed Marrok’s face, the very thought incited his rage.

“The Anarki were then told to secure the house and search for the book.” With bloodshot eyes, Bram cast a bleak expression at the group. “Mathias knows where you are and what you have. And he will stop at nothing to obtain both. He means to hold the power of Doomsday in his hands.”

“What do you suggest?” Marrok’s eyes narrowed.

“Bring the Book of Doomsday and come with me. Now.”

Marrok crossed his arms over his chest. “By your own admission, two of your kind dispatched them.”

“This is Mathias and the Anarki, not some lone nutter brandishing a wand at you. He will return with an army to abduct Olivia and take the book. Other than the one time he was exiled, he has never been gainsaid.”

“He cannot pass my magic circle.”

“This one?” Bram crossed his arms and stepped over the line, into the house. “If I can breach this line, Mathias can do the same.”

Marrok recoiled. “How long have you been able to breach that line?”

“Long enough to know it’s shit. I let you believe it was strong so you could keep your sense of security, but the magic of the line has faded. Times being what they are, you need to know it.”

“Magic fades?” Marrok looked skeptical. “I know a particular book that has not faded at all since the day it was used to curse me fifteen centuries ago.”

Bram looked at Marrok as if he wasn’t dipping both oars. “Morganna poured a bit of her soul into that diary and bound that book to this earth. To this day, her spirit keeps it humming with power so you will be sufficiently tormented. My grandfather drew the magic circle as a favor, I’m guessing, not with any real passion or power—both of which make magic strong. And why are we wasting time with this foolish discussion when Mathias and the Anarki will most likely be sweeping down on us at any minute?”

“You could draw another magic circle for protection.”

“They will come with an army, and it won’t hold.”

“Why should I think your words are something other than swill?” Marrok sent him a pointed glare.

“Because if you don’t, Mathias will strike—quickly and hard. And by now, he knows where you are vulnerable.”

Three sets of male eyes fell on her. Were they insinuating that she was Marrok’s weakness?

Marrok reached out, pulled her against the solid bulk of his body. “No one touches her.”

Bram clenched his fists. Olivia had seen him laughing, always with a certain detachment, arrogance, and devil-may-care attitude. Today, he looked frantic to find something—anything—that would help Marrok see reason.

“Then get her out of here. Come with me. Bring the book. Stay at my home—”

“Or with me,” Richard cut in. “I offered before you arrived to take Olivia with me into hiding and to bring the book. Together, I’m certain we can unlock the book’s secrets and right Marrok’s life.”

“Nay.”

“Marrok,” Bram braved the sword and grabbed his shoulders. “Listen to me. You don’t like or trust me. But Olivia is my friend. I care what happens to her and the book. We have that in common. I won’t attempt to separate you from her or the book. If you don’t come with me now, Mathias will get his hands on Olivia. You know the possibility then.”

A heavy silence fell over the group. Marrok stared at Bram, who refused to back down. He might be a calculating bastard, but Olivia didn’t think he was a liar.

“Marrok, I think he’s right.”

He snapped his gaze to her, fury blazing from his eyes.

She held up her hand to stay his anger. “I know you don’t trust him or my father—”

“You know exactly where trusting magic has gotten me.”

“Yes, but what if Bram is telling the truth and his friends thwarted the Anarki here recently? Then it won’t be long before they’re back. Can we afford to be stubborn?”

Marrok looked from Olivia, to Bram, then back again. “I would not risk you.”

He spoke so softly, this huge mountain of a man, as he caressed her cheek. Did he say things like this because she meant something to him or because she was the means to an end he craved? She couldn’t worry about it now.

“Staying here sounds like an unnecessary risk. I’m scared. Even if we don’t go with my father, I think we should go somewhere.”

“The book—”

“We’ll take it with us.” She grabbed the hand cupping her cheek to remove it. But he warmed her; his thick wrist, veined and solid, soothed her.

“As you wish.” Marrok shot her father a dark look. “She stays with me. Period.” Then he turned to Bram. “For Olivia, I will come to your house.”

“There’s plenty of room and a great deal of magical protection around it. It is the safest place against Mathias and the Anarki now. You are free to leave anytime you wish. You can hide the book wherever you like.”

Marrok left the room and returned moments later with the Doomsday Diary in his arms. As usual Olivia stumbled back against the blast of power it radiated.



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