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I frown. “We didn’t see or hear anything.”
“Because Lucan and Duke stopped the five dark wizards before they attacked.” Bram turns to Marrok. “They were sent to kill you.”
He snorts. “I wish them good luck…”
“And they were ordered to take Olivia, along with the book, to Mathias because they’re ‘valuable.’”
Terror runs cold through my veins. “Oh, god.”
“Over my dead body,” Marrok assures.
Bram lunges in his face. “Are you listening? Mathias knows everything. And he’ll let nothing stop him from seizing both your book and your mate. He intends to hold the power of doomsday in his hands.”
“And I suppose you suggest I gather Olivia and the book and leave with you, too?” Marrok says cynically.
Bram nods. “Now.”
“Or with me,” Richard offers.
Marrok ignores my father and crosses his arms over his chest. “By your own admission, two of your kind already dispatched the Anarki.”
“This is Mathias, not some lone nutter brandishing a wand. He won’t give up at the first sign of resistance. He’ll return with an army to take Olivia and the book. Once, he was felled by a group of very powerful wizards—with help from Gray—and nearly killed in the process. Other than that, he has never been thwarted.”
“He cannot pass my magic circle.”
“This one?” Bram steps over the line and into the house. “If I can trespass your protective barrier, Mathias can. I let you believe it worked so you could keep your sense of security, but it’s faded. Times being what they are, you need to know.”
“Magic fades?” Marrok looks skeptical. “I know a particular book that has not faded at all since the day it was used to curse me fifteen centuries ago.”
“Morgana poured her soul into that diary when she bound the book to this earth. To this day, her spirit keeps it humming so you will be sufficiently tormented. My grandfather drew the magic circle as a favor, probably without any real passion or power—both of which make magic strong. Is this really the discussion you want to waste time on when Mathias and the Anarki will soon be swooping down on us?”
“Draw another magic circle.”
Bram shakes his head. “Mathias will come with an army, and it won’t hold.”
“What assurance have I that your words are not swill?”
“None, but I’m telling you Mathias will strike. And he knows where you’re vulnerable.”
Three sets of male eyes fall on me. They’re insinuating that I’m Marrok’s weakness?
He pulls me against the solid bulk of his body. “No one touches her.”
Before today, I’ve seen Bram laughing, with a certain detachment, arrogance, and a devil-may-care charm. Today, he stands determined—almost combative—to make Marrok see reason.
“Then she needs to come with me and bring the book. Stay at Goldcroft Manor—”
“Or with me,” Richard cuts in again. “I offered before you arrived to take Olivia into hiding. Together, I’m certain we can unlock the book’s secrets and right Marrok’s life.”
“Nay.”
Bram nudges the drawn sword aside and grabs his shoulders. “My friend—”
“We are not friends.”
“Then listen to me. You may not trust me, but I care about Olivia.”
“So much so, you put her on display last night.”
