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Are they stubborn? Or is his vision a ruse? Magickind’s golden boy is not above using his abilities to fool me into doing his bidding…
I switch tactics. “Why do you imagine I care about any of this?”
“Besides the fact you wanted to champion Auropha? Mathias will soon be beating down your door, looking for the Doomsday Diary.”
“Which you think I possess?”
“Which I know you possess. No other relic—human or magical—would give him even half that much power. With it, he merely needs to write his destructive wishes on a blank page. That will bring about any catastrophe he wants—even doomsday itself.”
Perhaps Bram is telling the truth, but he’s an ambitious knave. He is more than capable of creating the horrific scene to manipulate me into relinquishing the book so he can use it for his own ends. Besides, Mathias would first have to unlock the tome for it to be of any use. Despite the breadth and expanse of his magic, that may be even beyond him.
“Finding and safeguarding the book is imperative,” Bram prompts. “Help me.”
“Cast a spell to ensure Mathias and the Anarki can do no harm.”
“Magic doesn’t work like that. Mathias is born of a powerful bloodline with a strong tendency to madness. As you saw, he gorges on others’ pain, terror, and degradation. If he returns… Most who worked to fell him during his last ascent have passed to their nextlife, so we can only guess at his magical defenses. I have no idea how we would fight them. Please. Give me the book before it’s too late.”
Trust Bram with my only means of becoming mortal again? Never. I subscribe not to the theory that my enemy’s enemy is my friend. And as Merlin’s grandson, Bram’s bloodline is packed with powerfully magical genes. I have no intention of trusting him—or anyone—with that book.
I grab the manipulative wizard by his stiff Ralph Lauren collar and shove him against the wall. “Speak no more of the book to me, or you will feel my blade in your belly.”
Bram says naught until I release my hold. He’s clearly undeterred as he straightens his shirt. “I’ll take that as a no. Pity. A lot of people will die. But then, you see death as a blessing, don’t you?”
“Even if the book were within my grasp, why would I give it to you?”
“Because it will save you pain. Mathias will come for you once he realizes you possess it.” Bram crosses into my living area, sinking into an overstuffed chair and propping his booted feet on my table.
“Make yourself at home.” I scowl.
He ignores me. “You know I’m right.”
“Bollocks.”
“Play dumb, then.” Bram flashes a brittle smile. “I have another reason for coming. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Socializing is never something I desire and the last thing I have time for with Morgana returned from exile. “Nay.”
“She’s the owner of a new art gallery, A Touch of Magic.” After swinging his feet to the ground, he leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “It’s very fresh and recently opened—”
“Are you deaf? I say nay. But since you have come, I require a ride to London.”
“You? Facing civilization? Willingly?”
“I seek a woman.”
“Do tell.” He sends me a sly grin. “Planning to test the limits of your curse again?”
How does Bram know of that? “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”
“The last woman you took to your bed disappeared for two days. That was…what? A decade ago?”
Longer. “Not another word.”
“I hear your stamina astounds humans and even puts magical men to shame. But you’re never quite…satisfied, are you?”
I refuse to tell Bram that I cannot orgasm. No matter how many women I fuck or how many climaxes I give, I have not achieved my own release in fifteen long centuries. Of course my mood is terrible. And admitting that to anyone, especially this wizard, would only give him something new with which to torment me.
“Piss off, you flea-bitten lout.”
