Page 78 of The Vampire's Seduction

How could her soulmate be a killer?

She’d allowed her own feelings, her own happiness, to blind her to Marek’s true nature. No matter how sweet or gentle he treated her, he dealt in bloodshed and hatred.

Could she spend her life with someone like that? Terror shot through her at the possibility of delving into his psyche or knowing everything about the vampire with the dead eyes who’d spoken of ending another life without remorse.

She wanted to run as far away as possible. Only the thought of Betsy stopped her from packing up her meager belongings.

Betsy. If she wished to leave, she’d have to wake Betsy first.

Olivia forced her feet to move, to cross to the couch and the coffee table where the grimoire waited. They were more than two-thirds of the way through the book but had yet to find the life-transfer spell. She should’ve guessed such a powerful spell would be in the back of the book.

Staring at the grimoire only reminded her of last night when she had lounged with her feet in Marek’s lap while they worked. The overflowing contentment. The feeling of rightness. Of belonging.

His presence filling some hole inside her.

The hole widening as the seconds ticked by.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Olivia grabbed the book and the tablet and stormed out of her room. She hated leaving Betsy, but she couldn’t stay inside for another second.

Sorry, Betsy. Please hang on. I just need some time.

Olivia barreled down the hallway, pushed forward by her need to escape her roiling emotions until she reached the elevator. She pushed up. Then down. Tapped her feet while waiting.

When the elevator doors dinged open, she didn’t move, realizing she had no destination.

“Tristan, where’s the nearest empty outside space?” she asked.

“There is an empty balcony five floors up.”

“Good.” She stepped inside the elevator. “Take me there.”

This time, when a vampire flew by, Olivia’s eyes trailed it until the vampire landed several floors up. The memory of being carried while sailing over Vegas in Marek’s arms returned.

Carried by his hands stained with blood.

Nope. Forget it. Olivia’s hold over the grimoire tightened.

Focus on the spell. On waking Betsy. Forget about anything else.

With a clear goal, Olivia exited the elevator and followed Tristan’s directions. The balcony was attached to a common cafeteria area. She picked her way through the tables and chairs to the double doors leading outside.

Dry, hot, arid air swamped her the second she set foot outdoors. A car honked far below. Someone shouted. Waist-high glass railing lined the edges. String lights hung from a few pillars, their romantic effect ruined by the bright lamps attached to the wall, illuminating the area. Olivia walked past the nearest set of wicker furniture and sank into the wicker chair by the railing.

She kicked off her shoes and folded her legs on the seat before opening the grimoire. For the next few hours, she lost herself in work. It was tedious, monotonous, and slow-going, but the repetitiveness did wonders for her nerves and mental well-being. Since she couldn’t take pictures, she copied the titles using the stylus onto the tablet before running the translation software. Two out of three times, the software spit back something senseless, so she had to look up the individual symbols and piece together the meaning.

At one point, Olivia stopped, rubbed her eyes, and blinked at the title of the newest spell.

“Rendering inert a vampire’s mating bond.”

She double-checked her translation even though she knew she hadn’t made a mistake. It was a long spell, with numerous ingredients and several paragraphs of instructions.

She should move on. It had nothing to do with saving Betsy. But… this might be exactly what she needed. Marek’s obsession with her stemmed from the mating bond. If this spell’s name matched its effect, would Marek allow her to leave without a fight? Would she no longer feel this intense desire to constantly stay by his side?

Would her life return to normal again?

Normal. A world where she spent all her time working. Where she rescued Betsy from trouble. Where other men’s kiss and touch elicited no passion. No fire.

Olivia shook away the melancholy thought and wrote down the first line on the tablet. As she’d guessed, it was a complicated spell. Good thing her brain thrived on complexity. Finding answers was its own adrenaline.

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