Marcus's expression became cold as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. His clefted chin appeared so angular that it could cut metal. All at once, he turned away from her and walked to his table. He walked to the far end of the shelves that were on the left. He bent down and turned the handle  at the bottom after turning the locks on it. The small door of the shelf opened with a groan. He took out a red leather-bound grimoire and closed the panel. It made an even louder groan as it closed, as if hating its occupant's absence. Marcus kept his hand...