Jason and Armand exchanged glances. Jason sighed. “For the record, I think you're a fool.”
“You are indeed a fool,” Armand agreed calmly.
Brandon sighed. “I'm a desperate man trying to do the right thing.”
“The two are not mutually exclusive.” Armand moved back to the table. “Very well. We'll keep this between us for now. But I'm going to continue studying this text. If I can translate more, we might find information that will help us protect her. TheCodexwas created to preserve and protect knowledge. Perhaps it also contains guidance on protecting its keeper.”
Brandon felt a spark of hope. “You think there might be defensive magic in there? Protection spells specific to theCodex?”
“I think the women who created this grimoire knew they would be hunted. They were not naive. They wove protection into the text itself, as well as the visual history that Muriel experienced. There may be more we can activate or strengthen.” Scholarly intensity gleamed in Armand's eyes. “But it will take time. The language is archaic, the magical theory even more so. I'll need to cross-reference with texts on ancient earth magic,druidic practices, pre-Christian Celtic ritual—many of which I believe you hold in your personal collection.”
If he had any hope of protecting Muriel, Armand Castellano would be a powerful ally. “I'll give you carte blanche access to all of it if you think it will help.”
Delight lit the ancient scholar's eyes, then grew somber again. “I will collect reference materials from my private collection as well. But Brandon—you need to be prepared for the possibility that theCodexitself may have answers for Muriel. If it chose her, if it's truly awakening to her presence, it may reveal things no scholar can translate.”
The thought was both hopeful and terrifying. “You mean the visions.”
“Among other things. TheCodexis sentient—you felt that the moment you were near it. It has its own agenda, its own purpose. Muriel isn't just its keeper—she's its partner. Its chosen witch. The more she works with it, the more it will reveal to her.”
“Which means more power surges. More chances for the Collectors to track her.”
“Yes,” Armand agreed. “You need to strengthen the wards at The Glas Tann. Make it a fortress if you have to. And Brandon—” He paused, holding Brandon's gaze. “You need to have a conversation with Muriel about the true nature of what she's inherited. Not everything, perhaps, but enough that she understands the danger.”
“Without terrifying her or revealing how much danger she's truly in?” he asked dryly.
“Precisely.” A slight smile touched Armand's lips. “There is much more to you than you reveal, Brandon Emrys. I have faith in your diplomatic abilities.”
Brandon snorted. How did he convince Muriel to stay safe without explaining that the Magisterial Consilium would hunt her for the rest of her life? That she was the keeper of the most sought-after magical text in existence? That he would burn the world down before he let anyone hurt her, including himself?
“I'll handle it.”
Jason stepped forward, all business. “I'm going to dig deeper into Rourke's background. See if I can find out if he's still alive, who he reported to, whether there are others like him still operating. If the Consilium's been systematically hunting this bloodline, we need to know their full network.”
“Agreed. And I need you to look into the operative who approached Muriel. Silas Corvus. Find out how he tracked her, who gave him the contract, and what else he knows.”
“On it.” Jason headed for the door, then paused. “Brandon? For what it's worth—I get why you're doing this. But secrets have a way of coming out at the worst possible time. Be prepared for that.”
After he left, Brandon sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted.
Armand moved quietly around the room, gathering reference texts and setting them near theCodex.
“The mate bond is eating at you,” the vampire observed without looking up.
“Every moment.”
“Because you're a good man who's done something he believes is wrong, even though it may have saved her life?” Armand carefully turned a page. “Or because you're falling in love with her and terrified she'll never forgive you?”
Brandon was quiet for a long moment. “Both.”
“Hmm.” Armand made a note, then glanced up. “The bond doesn't create feelings, you know. It amplifies what's already there, but it doesn't manufacture emotion where none exists.”
“Yes, I know.”
Brandon thought about the way his chest had tightened when Muriel first walked into his shop. The immediate urge to protect her, claim her, keep her safe. The way her smile made something in him settle and warm.
“It doesn't matter,” he said finally. “Whether the feelings are from the bond or existed before it. What matters is that she deserves the truth and the choice.”
“And she'll have both,” Armand said gently. “When the time is right. In the meantime, we do what we must to keep her alive.”