The Wicked (Elder Races #5.5)(25)

“Bailey’s not going to help you,” he growled. “I am.”

She bit back a smile. “Then be quiet.”

In the vast variety of magical books and treatises that Olivia had encountered throughout her professional life, they all had one thing in common—books wanted to be opened. The key to handling an unruly magical book was to make sure one’s own Power was quiescent, so that it didn’t trigger some kind of backlash or attack.

Carefully she extended one hand, letting the magical energy of the grimoire adjust to her nearing presence. When she finally laid her fingers on the leather cover, it didn’t react.

She pulled it off the shelf, and it came smoothly, even eagerly. As she held it in one hand, she said, “Claudo.” At the same time she uttered the single word spell, she sketched the symbol for “close” over the front cover.

Despite its unruliness, it was still a book. The magic it contained snapped shut.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Sebastian’s fascinated expression. “One down. Many more to go.”

They worked through the morning. By lunchtime the air in the cottage was beginning to feel much more settled. After eating, Sebastian and Bailey returned to the library with the symbologists, but by midafternoon it became clear that their assistance was no longer needed, so they took off to fish for their supper. Sebastian gave her a quick, hard kiss before he left.

The symbologists continued to work until early evening and the shadows in the cottage grew dark. Dendera told Olivia and Steve, “We will stop now. We’ve done a good first day’s work.”

Steve looked up from the open container where he was carefully packing a five-volume set. “I’ll keep working.”

Dendera shook her head, her round features softening with a smile. “I know how hard it is to pull yourself away. This library is fascinating, and I could keep working through the night as well. But I don’t want anybody to work on the collection on their own. We’ll leave together.”

“There’s so much to do, and I’m not tired,” he argued. He waved a hand in the direction of the rooms full of books. “You can sense for yourself that we’ve contained the most unruly magics.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m just not willing to take that chance,” said Dendera. “We’ve got plenty of time, and it will all be waiting for us in the morning.”

Olivia watched with interest as Steve’s expression tightened with frustration. He did not like being told no. But all he said was, “If you think that’s best.”

“I do.”

He shrugged. “When do you think we’ll start work on the papyri collection?”

“We should be ready to tackle that section in a few days,” Dendera said. “Let’s go eat supper.”

The next several days fell into a pattern that was pure bliss for Olivia. The mild days were full of seemingly endless sunshine, and the nights turned chilly enough to call for fires, blankets and hot tea.

She immersed herself in all of her passions. By day, she handled rare and unique books. In the evening they ate freshly caught fish, grilled with wild onions and garlic, and sweet dates and almonds drizzled with honey, and they drank rare wine.

At night she explored every manner of sensual pleasure with Sebastian whenever he was free. He did not sleep alone. Either he took his turn at keeping watch, or he stayed with her. He drove her to exhaustion, and when she couldn’t take any more, they piled blankets on the floor in front of the fire and he would painstakingly massage her sore, tired body with the essential oils that he had found in one of the rooms.

In the mornings they would talk drowsily, nesting in the warm bed until it was time to get up for the day.

He told her of his life in Jamaica, and as he talked, he never stopped touching her. Stroking her thigh. Running his fingers through her short hair. Following the curve of her breast with a finger. The constant contact drenched her in pleasure.

She lay draped across him bonelessly as she listened, and it didn’t matter what he told her. He could have been talking about accounting or mathematic algorithms, and she would have loved it. The fact that he actually opened up to her made it even more special.

“How did you and Bailey meet?” she asked.

“We grew up together in New Orleans.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “She’s more than a friend. She’s like my little sister.”

“I think you guys have a wonderful relationship.” Olivia smiled too. She loved to watch them bicker.

“Looking back,” he said, “I can’t believe we made a go of the company. We did almost everything wrong. At least we learned from our mistakes.”

She walked her fingers up his chest as she said, “And you had to have done more things right than not, because you did make a go of it.”

“Eventually.” He captured her hand and lifted it to kiss her fingers.

Her mind flashed, without her consent, back to Steve’s negative gossip. “Why Jamaica?” she asked. “Why not the Wyr demesne in New York?”

“I respect what Dragos has done for the Wyr,” he said. “I can even see that there is a necessary place for it in the world, but his brand of nationalism bothers me. I prefer a more inclusive approach to life. We hire anybody based on their talents and resources as an individual, regardless of whether or not they are Wyr or some other Elder Race, or if they are human.”