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Just when I think I might hurl, I land on my feet with a gasp and a jarring thud, Bram’s arm still around me. The book remains pressed to my chest, knotted in my pajama top. Marrok appears beside the wizard, looking somewhere between furious and confused. The room around us belongs in a palace. Vaguely, I remember catching a glimpse of this room last night.
Frantically, I look around. “My father?”
“Teleported away, likely back to his own place,” Bram assures. “He was fine.”
That’s a relief. “So now what?”
“Are either of you hurt?”
Marrok scoffs. “Worry not about me. Olivia?”
I try to block out the last few minutes, but the black blood and zombies I blew away come rushing back.
Shit, I think I’m going to pass out.
“No fainting on me.” Bram grabs my shoulders.
Marrok scowls, then yanks me into his embrace. “Olivia?”
I need to stop freaking out. “I’ll be fine. You were so outnumbered. I was worried—”
He hovers a gentle finger over my lips to quiet me. “I am unharmed. I have faced such odds in battle even before I was immortal and lived to tell. Fear not for me.”
Bram cuts in. “We must hide the book. I would suggest you give it to me so I can stow it someplace safe, but I know you’ll refuse. So search the grounds and find a spot that’s difficult to reach and impossible to guess. Sabelle and I will put extra enchantments on the house to make it a fortress against the Anarki.”
Something about Bram’s words gives me pause. “What happens if the Anarki invade?”
“They should never get pastmy protections.” Bram sends me a hard stare. “If they manage somehow, we’ll have to pray…then fight like never before.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marrok
An hour later, I pace the elegant chamber Bram’s sister readied for Olivia and me.
A modern Louis XIV-style four-poster bed dominates the room, its frame gold and tufted headboard black. The gray drapes match the comforter and echo the mood of the adjacent sitting area. Nothing over the top, but very posh and all the finest.
I care for none of it. I can think only of the ways in which I might sink deep into Olivia and fuck her on that sumptuous bed. I need to feel her alive and clinging to me.
This morn, I could have lost her.
Shaking off the disturbing thought, I try cataloging the room to find a hiding place for the Doomsday Diary. But beyond the couch and chairs lies the bathroom, currently cut off from sight by the closed door I am sorely tempted to break down. Inside, my mate stands naked and wet, soaping the bare silk of her skin while I shake with need.
I must stop. I must control myself and hide the book.
Search the grounds, Bram said. Cheeky. But the wizard is no fool. Never would I stash it far from my line of sight. He knows that.
I find no lifting floorboards here as I had at my cottage. The thick area rugs are nearly wall-to-wall, making accessing such hiding places difficult…but I can scarcely wait to press Olivia to the plush carpet and impale her on my cock. ’Twould be a pleasure to grip her legs and spread her wide as I feel her pulse around me...
Concentrate!
The furniture, while ornate, provides no obvious hiding places. I possess a knife. I could cut a hole in the mattress—but that would be too easily guessed. And it might lessen the pleasure Olivia and I share in both sleeping and sex.
Think!
Contrary to Bram’s assurances, the Anarki will not be the only ones searching for the book. I have no doubt the wily wizard will do his utmost to seize it for himself.
After this morn’s battle, I understand his point. The scale of the skirmish troubles me. So does the timing.
