Olivia nodded. “Apparently. You were right. I do have witch blood.”

At the tremor in her voice, Marek squeezed down beside her on the cushion and tugged her against his chest. His stomach performed a weird dip as she leaned into him, like when he’d held her through her panic attack at the hospital. When had he last cared to comfort someone? And when had something as simple as holding her begin to mean so much?

Olivia stayed within his embrace for two heartbeats before pulling away. He let her go. That brief moment of trust was enough. For now. He wouldn’t push her for more than she was willing to give.

Facing the book again, she turned to the next page, which was covered in dark ink in the same block letters as the first page. A title in bigger font decorated the top with smaller lines detailing the ingredients. Pictures of clouds and rain adorned the edges next to the text.

“What does this say?” she asked.

He spent a few seconds more this time deciphering the letters. Hopefully, it would get easier once he had more practice.

“It’s a spell for summoning a storm,” he finally said.

Olivia’s brows drew together, and she flipped to a few more pages where they all looked like the first one, with a title and some pictures and other lines detailing the spell. She stopped at a random one and asked, “What about this?”

“A spell for casting an illusion.” His eyes skimmed lower on the page to a small red section. “With options for different kind, like environmental or human or animals.”

“Looks like you have your personal translator,” Andrea said with a bemused smile.

Olivia scowled and flipped back to the front. “There’s not a table of contents,” she grumbled, clearly annoyed by the lack of organization.

“Witches aren’t good about cataloging their spells in order,” Andrea offered. “It’s another defense against thieves. Also, grimoires are normally passed down the family, so you would’ve used it from the second you could walk. There is no need for a table of contents when you would’ve memorized it by now.”

Olivia pursed her lips as a wave of sorrow hit him. How much did she know about her parents? Had she tried to find them? He’d have to see if Sascha could find anything about her birth parents.

“And you’re sure the spell to transfer life force is in here?” Olivia asked.

“Yes,” Andrea said without any doubt.

“How do you know?” Marek asked. “There’s not a list. Since you needed someone from Olivia’s bloodline to unlock this, it means you haven’t read it. So how do you know it’s there? What’re you after?”

His body tensed for battle as Andrea’s eyes flashed bright gold. “I know because her ancestor told me,” Andrea gritted out. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she exhaled, her eyes were back to brown. “It’s up to you to trust me or not. I can’t stop you from hiring other witches to help Betsy. You might find someone with another way to wake her, but the life transfer spell is your best bet, and it’s in there. Either way, I’ll be here if you need me.”

“I believe you,” Olivia said with a simple sincerity that grated on Marek’s nerves.

When he growled, she glared at him. “I think it’s time you fulfill your promise to leave me alone today.”

“And let the witch manipulate you? I don’t think so.” Marek crossed his arms.

“Does your word mean nothing?” Olivia mimicked his posture. A jolt of lust shot through him as her arms pushed her boobs up, but she didn’t seem to notice and went on, “And you don’t think I should trust Andrea? Who’s been nothing but helpful?”

Damn it. He didn’t want to leave her alone. “You need me to translate the book.”

“There’s a thing called the Internet. Ever heard of it?”

She stuck out her chin stubbornly at his irritated frown. He was a hairbreadth away from tossing her over his shoulder. The unfinished mating bond was driving him and his vampire crazy.

When he leaned forward, heated awareness flashed over her features. Marek gritted his teeth as her arousal perfumed the air. He should be sainted for his control, though he wondered how much resistance she’d put up if he kissed her right now.

Instead of following his baser instincts, he grabbed the grimoire and bolted to the door. “I’ll leave, but I’m taking this with me.”

Olivia shot to her feet; her hands fisted at her side. “No way. That’s mine!”

Marek struggled to sound reasonable. “You asked me to leave you alone so you can process the last few days. If I don’t take this, you’ll just work on translating this.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll bring it back tomorrow night and help you translate it.”