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“Not at all.”
In the months I’ve known Bram, I’ve seen him teasing, solemn, even calculating. But never quite this determined.
Fury narrows Marrok’s eyes—and no surprise. Despite Bram’s assurances, I’m feeling a little ganged up on, too.
“Think of this as a mass plea,” he says finally. “We need your help.”
“With what?”
“First, thank you for jumping into the battle today. If not for you, Lucan, Duke, and I would have been completely overrun by Anarki.”
“Thank me not for protecting my mate. “’Tis her I sought to safeguard.”
“Of course. But I’m sure you noticed that the Doomsday Brethren and I—”
“Doomsday Brethren?” Marrok cuts in.
Bram nods. “Wizards banding together to defeat Mathias and help you protect the book. Lucan and Duke, whom you met at my party, captured the Anarki in front of your house early this morning.” They nod Marrok’s way. “Along with Shock, whom you also met at my party.” The dude in leather sneers his greeting. “And Ice, whom you did not.”
“Sorry I missed you. I wasn’t invited. Shocking, that…” Ice drawls.
“Um…not trying to be critical, but five wizards aren’t enough to fight an army the size of Mathias’s,” I point out.
“Quite right, especially not after the flood of undead we saw this morning. Wizards we can fight with magic. Those undead creatures…” Bram shrugs. “They deflect magic. I’m not certain why, perhaps because they have no soul.”
I shiver. “Any idea how they became undead?”
“Precisely, no. But it’s dark magic. The soul cannot be removed from the body without the individual’s consent. He or she has to release it. After Mathias captures them, I’m sure he uses his well-honed skills to make people beg. The promise to wipe away shattering memories or unbearable pain will prompt many to surrender theirs. Then, with some powerful zap… Well, you saw.”
“How are you going to fight someone who’s both ruthless and insane?”
“It’s crucial that we reduce the number of undead Anarki. Since they’re impervious to spells, we need you to teach us human combat. You skewered several zombies at once and punched others. Olivia shot two. We’ve never needed these tactics. Frankly, they’re considered barbaric in magical circles, so we’re clueless. I’ve hand-picked all the Doomsday Brethren because they’re warriors to the core. We know casualties are a part of war, but we can’t face battle so unprepared. Unless we learn to fight your way, Mathias will slaughter us. And magickind will fall.”
Marrok sits back and says nothing into the silence.
I have no idea what he’s thinking. “Marrok?”
“If you’re wondering what’s in it for you, in exchange for teaching us human combat, we vow to provide magical protection for the Doomsday Diary and your mate.” With a swish of his fingers, Bram produces a trio of images that float before our faces. “Remember the vision I showed you a few days ago? This is the aftermath of that attack.”
A mere glance at the pictures has me clapping my hands over my mouth, both to contain my scream and my urge to retch. Blood everywhere. Chaos. Sightless eyes. Naked, abused bodies. Men, women, babies. The pictures show abject torture and pain. My stomach churns. I look away.
Beside me, Marrok clenches his jaw. He wants to be unmoved by the photos, but he isn’t.
“This could be any of us,” Bram goes on. “Or all of us, if we don’t band together. Mathias won’t rest until he has the book. And you”—he swings his gaze back to me—“are particularly at risk. According to our prisoner, Mathias considers you critical to his plan. He will kill anyone he must to get his hands on you. God help you if he does.”
Fear stabs at me. I don’t want to be one of Mathias’s victims, stripped and tied, used up and bled out, branded and left to die. “Because I’m—”
“Le Fay.” Ice is still staring, and I realize now he’s stunned.
“My name is Olivia Gray.” Should I offer my hand? In the end, I don’t. He just looks too scary.
“I thought the line was dead. The diary and the witch under one roof? Fuck. Mathias will come for you.”
I shiver. “But I don’t know anything.”
“You don’t have to. Your blood and that book are connected. He’s well aware of that.”
“Stop frightening my mate, or I will slay you where you stand,” Marrok growls.
