“Thank you.” Olivia smiled at Marrok. “We’re grateful to you and your brother.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
Naturally, Marrok thought. Bram was now one step closer to the Book of Doomsday.
Sabelle turned away, then whirled back. “Oh, I almost forgot—” She snapped, and into her hands a small leather volume appeared. “This is for you, Olivia. It’s a simple book of spells to get you started. My brother says you were not raised with magic?”
“Not at all.”
“Then this will help catch you up so you can perform a bit of magic before transition. You’ll hardly be setting lakes on fire, but with practice, you’ll master the basics…like hiding the diary from my brother.” She winked and turned away.
The moment Marrok shut the door, Olivia frowned. “Wouldn’t she want her brother to have the book?”
“One would think, but…” He shrugged.
Olivia opened the little volume. “This might help us. What if I got you a hunk of wood? You could carve a hiding place for the diary, maybe something that would…I don’t know, attach to the furniture or mount to the ceiling somehow? And maybe we could find a way to make it lock.”
He stared at her. Naught about Richard. Simply the two of them, working together.
With rising hope, he peered at the furniture, and all sorts of possibilities leapt out at him. Attaching it inside the armoire beside the door or the credenza near the airy windows might do. Or under the massive bed. He could carve something to the book’s dimension to blend beneath the existing furniture.
Marrok smiled. Her solution was simple but brilliant.
“You like that idea?” she asked.
“Love it.” He couldn’t resist kissing her.
Olivia beamed. Mayhap he had been foolish to judge her with so cynical an eye and that growing up apart from magic had kept her spirit less tainted? Perhaps he had misjudged her excitement to meet her father as a foolhardy, impetuous devotion?
Or perhaps she lets you grow complacent before helping Richard once more to earn his favor.
As much as Marrok hated to think it, ignoring the possibility only endangered her and the book more.
Blood will tell. If Olivia was indeed a typical le Fay, hers would soon be screaming.
“You high-handed prick! What’s this bloody summons about? I was cozy with a blonde and a pint.”
Bram stared at the wizard. At nearly six and a half feet tall with blazing green eyes, Isdernus Rykard wasn’t someone anyone intelligent trifled with. Bram didn’t count himself as stupid. But desperate times…Having Ice under his roof was definitely a desperate measure.
The Rykards were a crafty lot—and distrusted because of it. Through the centuries, they had lied and cheated their way into a great deal of property, some of it Rion lands. Despite the fact their rightful owners had enchanted it to be fallow and dead until it passed back into proper hands, they refused to return it. Bastards—the lot of them. And that was little compared to the personal history between them.
But at the moment, Bram didn’t have the luxury of hate.
“If I demanded you appear tonight, Rykard, it’s because Mathias is back and magickind is in a dire situation. You’ve heard that, right?”
“Yes.”
Lucan crossed the room to stand beside Bram. “The events of the past three days are alarming. And will grow worse.”
Bram nodded. “Indeed. The Doomsday Diary has been found. It—”
“Bloody hell, man! Did you grab it? Hide it?” Ice demanded.
“No.”
Ice’s expression was both incredulous and appalled. At this point, Bram could only hope that Olivia would help break Marrok’s curse soon. He had to get that damn diary, before Mathias found a way to steal it.
“When the time is right, we’ll secure it,” Bram assured. “At the moment, Marrok of Cadbury holds it. He is currently upstairs with his mate.”
“The Anarki attacked him this morning,” Lucan added. “We all fought and barely escaped with the book and our lives.”
Ice swore. His face, like well-carved stone, tightened, his narrow eyes glowing a furious green.
“We need your help. Unless you want more abducted women to suffer your sister’s fate—”
“Don’t you dare use Gailene as some rallying cry for me!”
“It’s not my intent to offend, just to help you understand the urgency,” Bram gritted out and turned to address the rest of the men. Lucan silently provided support with a nod. Duke looked on with a studied air of boredom, but Bram wasn’t fooled.
Bram went on. “What of the frightened children forced to perform unspeakable magic? If we hurry—”
“Hurry?” Ice cut in, grinding his teeth so hard it was a wonder he had any molars left. “He’s already got those kids’ souls. We can’t help them now.”
“Do you suggest we wait for Mathias to grow more confident? For the Anarki’s numbers to swell with more magical children and humans they’ve managed to bewitch? When do we take action? When Mathias is knocking down our doors and threatens all we hold dear?”
Like magickind did last time. Bram didn’t say it; he didn’t have to. Everyone in the room knew their people had been slow to act during Mathias’s last ascent to power. No one had wanted to believe someone so evil walked among them. Only a handful of brave wizards had acted, managing to defeat Mathias and rid magickind of such a cancer.
“We all know who brought Mathias down last time.”
“The Brethren,” Duke murmured.
“Shock, you’re late. Do you know about the Brethren?”
They all turned to the man entering the room.
The incoming wizard glared hatchets at Lucan behind black sunglasses, then shifted his gaze back to Bram. “I am capable of reading. I know magical history.”
That wasn’t all he was rumored to be capable of—but everything was just rumor. Shock, like the rest of his clan, kept to himself. His long hair added to his unsavory appearance. Built big for strength and stamina, Shock was a scary bastard on the best of days. On the worst…no one wanted to push the man’s limits. People in his tainted bloodline tended to go mad. Bram wondered how close to that edge Shock was.
The furious wizard was scowling at Lucan as if he’d like to help the man with a one-way trip to his own funeral. Of course he would, given their history.
“I wasn’t insinuating that you’re not learned about magical history. But you were barely alive when Mathias was last in power.”
“I know what happened.”
“After the Brethren defeated Mathias nearly two hundred years ago,” Bram went on. “They disbanded, vowing that if magickind ever saw dark times again, they would reunite.”