Page 51 of The Vampire's Seduction

“Damn, that hurts,” Andrea groaned before her eyes settled on them. Her mouth curved up into a pained yet amused smile. “Come to join the party, vampire?”

“What did you do?” Marek growled and wrapped his aura around him and Olivia protectively as if Andrea were about to lob a spell at them any second. Whatever Olivia had done, it was under the witch’s guidance.

He’d learned enough about Olivia, both through his interactions with her and her background to confirm she had no ties to the magical community. Who was Andrea? And why did she show up like she did?

He made a mental note to ask Sascha to investigate the woman. He trusted Andrea as much as he trusted the Organization’s Hunters.

“It wasn’t her,” Olivia said, annoyed. “Now put me down. I’m fine.”

Since her heart rate, along with her breathing, had slowed down to normal, Marek grudgingly did so and settled her on the one surviving couch cushion. He wouldn’t have let her go if not for the sake of his sanity. If he held her longer, he might say fuck it to everything and carry her straight to the bedroom.

“Let me guess, you performed another spell,” Marek said.

Olivia had the good graces to look embarrassed. “Yes,” she muttered with defiance like a teenager who’d been called to the principal’s office. “And what are you doing here? You’re supposed to leave me alone today, remember?”

Marek clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew you would try to take down the building.”

“What? I did no such thing.”

“I was upstairs and felt the entire building shake.” At the same time, Marek sent a mental note to Nikolas that he’d found the source of the earthquake. He didn’t look forward to explaining it to his team.

Andrea stumbled over. “It’s the spell. It worked.”

He looked at where Andrea pointed at the coffee table. The grimoire lay open to the center, the page filled with the lines of a dead language he recognized. Despite the ancient language and the yellowing pages, the book didn’t smell old. No, it smelled like magic, like witches. Olivia scooted forward and peered at it, a giant smile blooming over her face.

“Yes! It did!”

It was impossible to stay mad at her with her infectious grin. The paper crinkled loudly as Olivia flipped the pages with happiness. The familiar language on the pages, though, soured his mood significantly.

“Ancient Greek,” he huffed with a scowl. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You read it?” Her hopeful look made his past sacrifices related to the stupid language worth it.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Just how old are you?”

Vampires weren’t sticklers about their ages. They could sense one another’s age based on their strength. But Marek was also familiar with human customs, so he said, “Didn’t your parents teach you that’s rude to ask?”

Her eyes flashed fire at him. “I’m sure you already know mine, so it’s only fair I know yours.”

He beat back the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. She stepped back as if she guessed where his brain was headed.

“Seven hundred fifteen, if you must know,” he said.

Olivia was quiet for a second as she worked the math. “Ancient Greek was used before then. Why did you learn it?”

“Because my father thought it a good idea that any educated man worth his salt should know the classical languages,” Marek muttered, hating any mention of his nasty old man. Despite his age, he still recalled vividly sitting in a wooden chair and reciting from an Ancient Greek tome until his tutor was satisfied and the painful smack on his hand whenever he mispronounced a word.

Olivia gave him another skeptical look before flipping to the first page and pointing to three words under the staff symbol. On the ruby was an almost dry red fingerprint with Olivia’s scent. Huh, that explained the blood.

“What does it say?” she asked.

Marek’s brows furrowed as he searched his memories. It’d been a long time since he’d seen Ancient Greek, much less bothered to read it. Photographic memories weren’t a perk of immortality.

“Power,” he said slowly. “Family. Blood.”

Interesting. The book was locked to its owners’ blood. “This grimoire belongs to your family?”

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