Page 67 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “Why are we what reset magic? Why did we break the curse?”

“Our kind was hunted down,” she reminded me in a fierce whisper, her eyes whipping to Julian as if he’d been the vampire to personally do so. “Eradicated, or so they thought. Ask yourself why. A siren was key to breaking the curse. Whoever cursed magic made certain of that—made certain that it would be linked to the divine gifts of Hades and Persephone.”

“But if there were no sirens, it couldn’t be broken.” My stomachache returned as I considered what she was saying. “The vampires didn’t want magic to awaken. Why?”

Something like pride shone in her eyes when she said, “Now you’re asking the right questions.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

LYSANDER

Why had I decided to stay? A few days had passed since that disastrous day at court and none of the Queens had held an audience after. In fact, Thea had been holed up with Julian ever since. My family had left court, but been forced to stay in Venice as preparations began to join the social season and the last weeks of Carnival in an unholy union. One of my brothers showed up every now and then in direct defiance of our mother’s orders.

But nothing was happening, and my research was proving fruitless.

At least when they held court, there was the potential for a fight. Instead, I’d made myself at home in the court library—a considerable, if claustrophobic, resource.

The peppered, welcoming scent of old books hung in the air, and I breathed it in as I settled into my seat, a fresh stack in front of me. A considerable amount of archeology was spent sitting in the library, looking for clues hidden in old books no one had bothered to read for years. It was research that yielded precious few results, but when it did, the information might be invaluable. But despite the archives available at court, I’d found nothing but a few cryptic references to the spell binding the Queens to the throne. Nothing about the curse or its origins. Not even a single mention of the Queen-killer weapon my father wanted me to find. I couldn’t help wondering if the oversight was purposeful—if someone didn’t want me to find this information.

But the lack of information wasn’t the most frustrating problem I faced. It wasn’t even that I’d stayed for my brother. Or that I didn’t trust anyone at court. I knew they would need allies, but Julian was busy with Thea. Jacqueline was always off on some secret mission. Although Camila was my sister, I definitely didn’t trust her. All of that was annoying.

Still, what preoccupied me was wondering when I might have a run-in with the only other person I found remotely interesting here.

As the days passed, I knew one thing. Lia was avoiding me.

It shouldn’t matter, especially with our agreement to be enemies. She was a distraction, and she was loyal to the court. That definitely placed her in the off-limits category. The problem was that she seemed to have no trouble showing up in my dreams, usually naked, always commanding the attention of my cock before waking me up. I hadn’t been this pathetic since I was a teenager. Not even then.

It wasn’t getting me anywhere, because Lia did not feel the same attraction. That much was clear, and even if she did, there was the matter of her oath.

I scooted my ancient chair back, its feet scraping on the marble floor, I stared at what I had managed to accomplish from my reading. I leafed through a few notes I’d made about the prophecy, mentions I’d found in various books. Cryptic scraps I couldn’t piece together. The longest of which read like a riddle.

Three crowns to bind.

Three thrones to choose.

Three Queens to sacrifice.

Ever as three bound.

Ever as three free.

It wasn’t much to go on. I reached to crumple the note—another dead end—when a shadow passed over the table. Looking up, I saw Lia pass by the tall windows. She paused and looked inside.

My fists clenched as if they hoped to prevent the inevitable rush of my blood to my dick. Was that going to happen every time I saw her? It wasn’t like I was going to get any relief given her oath to the Queens and her—frankly unnecessary, if you asked me—vow of chastity. Maybe it was the sight of her, or maybe I was over whatever this game was between us, but I was sick and tired of sitting alone in this fucking library, trying to puzzle out the meaning of some ancient prophetic riddle, knowing she was out there.

I stood and walked to the door that led to the exterior courtyard. Lia backed up a step when I opened it, but she didn’t leave. We stared at each other for a moment before she made her move. Lia didn’t speak, walking into the library with a firm step. My eyes tracked her movement, and despite my efforts to be a gentleman, my gaze kept pausing on her ass—her shapely, leather-clad ass.

When she was inside, she faced me, an eyebrow lifting when she saw my wicked grin. “Is something preoccupying you, Lysander?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I opted for the obvious. “You should stop avoiding me.”

“Avoiding? Did I hurt your feelings?” Despite the haughty tone of her voice, her eyes swept the room like someone might overhear us. It was pointless. I hadn’t seen another soul step foot inside here in the last three days. “Besides, we’re supposed to be enemies. I generally don’t spend a lot of quality time with my enemies, do you?”

She had me there.

“Then why are you here?” I leaned against a shelf and crossed my arms.

“Checking on you. You’ve been buried in books for days. What are you looking for?” She lifted one of the ancient tomes and studied it.

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