The sentence switched unfathomably to Italian, and he lost his ability to read it. Shaking his head, he grasped her other arm. “‘The seed of Pilate will be sown on barren fields, the harvest of atonement will mock him as killer of the lamb. Let his blood be on our heads and the heads of our children.’”

“Wolves,” Bella said quietly. “All of us stem from the descendants of one man. The Christ-killer.”

Max released her and stood, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Pontius Pilate?”

If he’d believed in God it would have freaked him out.

“It is a curse. We seek ways of atoning, to repay the blood debt.” She chuckled bitterly. “But how great is the debt of a dead God?”

“I’ve read the Bible. He was supposed to die.” Great, now they were having a theological discussion. “It kind of ruined the end if he didn’t.”

She shrugged, a little too easy in the acceptance of her fate. “Judas Iscariot burns in hell, as well, but the story would not have been fulfilled if he had not betrayed Christ. There is no rhyme or reason to God’s wrath. It is something I have come to accept.”

It was a heavy thought, and it weighed down Max’s mood considerably. “That seems kind of pessimistic and lazy to me.”

She pulled her jacket on, momentarily drawing his attention back to her cleavage. “We hear the story of our burden every day as children. When I came of age, my father had it branded into my skin. It is a reminder that this curse is a part of me.”

Max chuckled. “I suspect this has more to do with the differences between lupins and werewolves than either side lets on.”

A slight smile tilted her lips. “You vampires think you know everything. But you are right. The recent division over science versus magic only served to widen the rift between our factions and drive us to align with the Movement. Lupins cling to the old Roman ways, while we werewolves have embraced the earth.”

The admission seemed to close the subject. She turned back to The Sanguinarius, leafing through the pages as though her mind wasn’t really on the material contained there.

Max cleared his throat. “I’m going to get something to eat before I try and read any more of Nathan’s handwriting. Want anything?”

“Does a vampire have anything to eat, besides blood?” Some of her teasing humor was back in her voice.

It relieved a bit of the angry tension between them, even if it seemed forced. “I’m sure he’s fresh out of kibble, but, yes, there’s food. Contrary to popular belief, we can eat. Some of us even enjoy it.”