The Wicked

It was hard to let go of the moment, but then she followed his cue and talked of her life and friends in Louisville, and Brutus her cat, who was currently staying at her parents’ house.

Neither one of them broached the subject of how they would continue seeing each other when they left the island, although they came close to it several times. She wanted to talk about it, but each day she fell further and further in love with him, and she grew more and more afraid of what might happen next.

She could leave her life and friends to live with him in Jamaica, and she could build a new life there that would make her very happy. But what she couldn’t do was live Sebastian’s life of constant adventure.

She knew she could never ask him to settle down and hope that he could change that completely. Sooner or later, even if he did grow to love her too—even if he did mate with her—she was afraid that he would get tired of being in one place and end up feeling trapped. And that would be intolerable for the both of them.

Still, despite her growing trepidation for what the future might hold, she couldn’t turn him away when he came to her room. He drew her too powerfully.

During the daytime hours, the symbologists methodically worked from section to section and room to room in the library, handling works from all nationalities and races—French, medieval, Chinese, Hungarian, early American, and Greek and Roman auguries. Light and Dark Fae works, Elven, Nightkind and Demonkind. Books on Wyr magic, Other lands and the Elder gods, and books upon books on Vampyrism.

Finally one morning they reached the Egyptian section, which contained the papyri collection, and Steve’s attention grew sharper and more focused.

Olivia wasn’t the only one who noticed. Dendera asked him, “Have you studied Egyptology or Egyptian magic?”

“My employer has,” Steve replied. “He’s talked quite a bit about it, and it’s piqued my interest.”

“Don’t you work for Edinburgh University’s Magical Depository?” Dendera asked.

“Currently I do,” he said. “I’m talking about another employer.”

Did that sound odd?

As she locked the lid of one container into place, Olivia frowned, drawn in spite of herself into the conversation. “Do you mean a former employer?”

Steve didn’t reply, and her frown deepened.

She had grown used to Steve being a bit of a dick, but this was something entirely different. To get hired for this job, he had to have gone through the same thorough background check as everyone else, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Sebastian would make of Steve’s behavior.

She glanced at the angle of sunshine streaming in through the nearby window. It was only midmorning. She wouldn’t see Sebastian until lunch, still a few hours away, but she was definitely going to tell him about the conversation.

As they talked, they had started work on the most ancient section of the papyri collection. Dendera knelt in a corner and carefully drew out a thick scroll from the cubicle where it had been stored.

“Carling’s instructions are very specific,” she breathed. “We handle these as little as possible, and transfer them directly to the container. Look at this one. The original wax seal is unbroken. It has survived all these centuries.”

Steve knelt beside Dendera and leaned forward. Olivia left the container she had just closed to walk over. The papyrus scroll was tied with what looked like a strip of leather, and the wax seal was unusually large and thick. The wax had darkened from what had probably been originally a golden brown. Now, either magic or time, or both, had turned it almost black. A sigil had been inscribed into the wax while it was still warm and soft.

“What is that mark?” Olivia asked. After all of this time, she could still feel the strong ward that lay imprinted in the wax. “What does it say?”

“Khewew,” Dendera whispered. “‘It has evil.’”

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