"I'll be there in a minute."

After a long glance at her, then the book, Caden nodded and slipped from the room.

Sydney dug her fingernails out of her palms, so frustrated she feared she would draw blood. Being a pet.i.te redhead, she didn't have a centerfold's b.r.e.a.s.t.s and wasn't one of those model-like creatures men got all in a froth about. But Caden treated her almost as.e.xually.

"You want him," Aquarius whispered. It wasn't a question.

"I couldn't want him any more than if I'd shot myself with Cupid's arrow." She tossed her hands up in the air. "He doesn't reciprocate."

"You don't know that," Aquarius argued.

"Perhaps. He's impossible to read. So b.l.o.o.d.y private."

"I don't think he's as immune to you as you imagine." She shook her head glumly. "I'd love to believe that. No, I'd love to experience it."

"You can." Aquarius tapped the cover of the old book. "He can be yours for the night." Caden could have his pick of women. Besides being good-looking, intelligent, and polite, he had proven dependable thus far. He wasn't lazy and seemed to truly listen. What woman wouldn't want a total package? Yesterday's snug shirt had outlined a positively yummy chest. And he was probably devastatingly good in bed-not that she'd ever know personally.

Or could she?

Sydney frowned. The idea tempted her. Could this journal possibly be magical? It sounded awfully fantastical-not that such a book existed, but that it had dropped into her lap. Supposing it had . . .

would Caden truly be hers for the night after she jotted down a few ideas that involved scented ma.s.sage oil, a big bed, and his naked body?

She cast a gentle glance at her a.s.sistant. "You believe this book is real?"

"It made one of my fantasies come true," Aquarius blurted. "Remember Alex, that yummy neighbor I told you about? He asked me out when I wrote down exactly what I wanted."

"Aquarius, he had an itch for you, so when his calendar opened up, he rang."

"And read my mind?" Aquarius challenged. "Until last week, I never knew making love under a waterfall would be so . . . invigorating."

"A waterfall? Where did you find-"

"I'll never tell." She smiled coyly.

"Let me get this straight: This hunky bloke suddenly appeared and whisked you away to fulfill your fantasy, exactly as you wrote it?"

Dreamy didn't begin to describe Aquarius's faraway expression. "It was fantastic." Sydney groped around for a chair. "Maybe you need a holiday. You're past due."

"I'm completely sane. Though I enjoyed Alex, he wasn't right for me-"

"No man ever is."

Aquarius frowned. "There's a man out there. Somewhere. I'll know when I meet him." Sydney had heard this before.

"Point is, I don't need this journal." Aquarius shoved it at to her. "But you . . ."

"But me . . . what?" Sydney fisted her hands on her hips.

"Well, if you want Caden, write your fantasy in here." The idea was tempting. With her luck, Caden would find the fantasy she'd written. Since she didn't think he wanted her, mortified wouldn't begin to cover how bad she'd want to crawl into a hole and wait for a new millennium.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Neither is pining away. Look," her voice dropped to a whisper, "take the diary with you this weekend and write your deepest desire about Caden. Wait a day or two. If it doesn't come true, what have you lost? When I return from holiday, I'm sure you'll have loads to tell me."

Caden marched into Sydney's office and barely refrained from slamming the door. The fiery sun setting over the jagged London skyline matched his mood. The Doomsday Diary, here? In human hands? He must steal it from Sydney, remove her from danger. He needed a plan. Now.

But he was besieged by an equally strong urge to punch both Bram Rion and Jamie What's-his-name.

Wanting to beat Bram to a pulp? Caden understood that well. Bram embodied so much of what he despised about magic: the blithe a.s.sumption of supremacy, unpredictability, the utter inability to compromise, and the total lack of awareness that it might be required. Magic's inequality chafed as well.

In a human world, anyone could learn to defend themselves and grow stronger each day-or buy a better weapon. In the magical world, a witch or wizard never had more power than they were born with, and if they found themselves at the mercy of someone more evil and powerful than themselves . . . G.o.d help them.

But Caden's reaction to Jamie he didn't understand. Nor could he grasp his own drive to possess Sydney so completely that she was unaware another male even existed. He'd done his best to ignore it, hide it, but she'd become a fever in his blood. The urge defied logic. He was on a mission. He was good at those, thanks to the U.S. Marine Corps. Focus. Get in, get out, get the job done, end of story. Don't do anything stupid.

Falling in life-altering l.u.s.t with Sydney, particularly now, fell into the stupid category. Yet he couldn't stop. His a.s.signment was to prevent Sydney from revealing more about magickind-a move that would protect her too-and discover if Anka was her source of information. Unfortunately, he was finding it difficult to focus on more than pushing the saucy reporter against a wall, kissing her senseless, then s.h.a.gging her into sighing bliss.

d.a.m.n it all! He hadn't been naive enough to believe that his a.s.signment at Out of This Realm would be easy, but he'd had little success tracking down Sydney's source of information while stifling her stories.

She was infuriatingly and admirably determined. Throw in the sudden and unexpected appearance of the Doomsday Diary? This had become what his platoon buddies called a cl.u.s.ter-f.u.c.k.

Cursing, he pulled his mobile phone from his belt and dialed an increasingly familiar number.

Bram answered immediately. "You have news?"

Did he ever, but first things first. "How is my brother?" Bram hesitated. "Weak. We're doing our best, but we're running out of options." The wizard's words were a stab in the chest. "Don't you dare let him die while I'm in London doing your dirty work."

"Believe me, if I had anyone else suited to this task, you would still be gnashing your teeth here at Lucan's bedside. Matters are too critical for me to be there. Duke can pa.s.s as a human, but who would believe that the Duke of Hurstgrove wants a job at a tabloid? That leaves a fifteen-hundred-year-old warrior, an att.i.tude-challenged wizard, and you. You alone have both experience in photography and the human world."

"Your problem is mine only as long as my brother is alive. If he dies, I cease to care. Are you clear?"

"As if you'd drawn me a picture." Bram shot back. "Believe me, as desperately as we need wizards for this fight, I'll happily release you when I can. I want only those committed to the cause." Bram's intimation that he wasn't good enough annoyed Caden. He shrugged it off. What did he care if Bram didn't see him as a member of the team he hadn't wished to join?

He'd wanted nothing to do with magic since his younger brother's death-by his own mother's magic.

An accident, yes. But he'd been just twelve when Westin, barely toddling, had been stricken.

Since leaving home at eighteen, he'd lived happily among humanity. Their ways seemed normal, comfortable. Being back among magickind now merely reminded Caden of all the reasons he loathed it.

This gut-wrenching madness of Lucan's merely underscored everything.

"Rion, do you honestly believe that you and a handful of wizards can defeat the most powerful magical creature in a millennium and his growing army?" "Perhaps not, but we'll certainly fail if we don't try. Why do you care as long as Lucan stays alive?"

"He'd better."

"I'm against this, but Sabelle insists on being his surrogate. Or attempting." Brilliant! Though Bram's protective att.i.tude was hardly a surprise. But Sabelle was a tough, courageous witch with the unusual ability to make others feel whatever she wanted with a touch. If anyone besides Anka could provide Lucan energy, it was Sabelle.

"Tell your sister I appreciate her more than she can know."

"No guarantee it will work."

It had to. "Thank her anyway."

"All right, then. What news have you to report?"

"I've learned little about Sydney's source of information. She's guarding the name like a national secret."

"Seduce her. Charm her."

Bram's suggestion made Caden grit his teeth. He didn't have Bram's easy way-and he was completely enthralled with the woman he was supposed to bamboozle. He wanted her more than his next breath-and was desperate to bury the feeling.

"Her secret is the least of our issues at the moment. I'm having a devil of a time stalling her next story.

Before the bodies were removed from the tunnel, Sydney's previous photographer took a few pictures.

Grainy and fuzzy, which works in our favor, but we know of no one else who arrived in time to snap any, so she's still scooped every other news source. People will pick up Out of This Realm in droves, I fear, if she prints it with a proposed story that these men comprise Mathias's unwilling Anarki army, out to dissolve the Social Order and eradicate the Doomsday Brethren." Bram sounded ready to hit the ceiling. "She knows about us? Where is she getting this information?"

"I'd like to know that myself and have no clue. Unfortunately, it gets worse."

"Worse?"

"Indeed. I found the Doomsday Diary. Sydney Blair acquired it fifteen minutes ago." Bram cursed a stream of loud, ugly words.

"On that, we're agreed," Caden supplied.

"You're absolutely certain?"

"There can't be many old red books bearing Morganna le Fay's symbol."

"Send me a picture."

Bram didn't trust him. Whatever.

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. Better yet, steal it from her."

"She won't let it loose soon. It was a birthday gift from a dear friend."

"Who?" Bram snapped.

"Aquarius."

"The astrological sign?"

"Sydney's a.s.sistant," Caden corrected. "Is she your mate?"

"That wasn't the name-describe her. Perhaps my missing 'wife' uses aliases."

"Short, almost fey looking. Brown wavy hair to her waist, green eyes-"

"Not even close. Which raises the question, if Sydney acquired the book from this woman who is definitely not my mate, how did she get her hands on it?"

"I was hoping you could shed some light."

"None. Ask her. Maybe she'll know how to locate my mate." Frustration oozed from every syllable.

"But we must recover that diary. Now."

"I have good news and bad news about that. The bad news is that Sydney is a smart, tenacious reporter who's determined to keep writing 'fresh paranormal stories,' in her words."

"Which means she may choose to write about the diary." He groaned. "How can there possibly be good news?"

"She doesn't know its purpose. Yet. She's been told that writing in the book will grant her s.e.xual fantasies. And I'm not sure she's convinced it's real."

"Pray it stays that way, at least long enough for you to do whatever you must-steal, sweet talk, or seduce her away from that book."

"I'll work on that while determining the name of her source. You're coming to help, right? Use a bit of magic and . . ."

"Can't. There was another Anarki attack two hours ago. I've just left what was the Pullmans' estate.

Burned to the ground. Their newly transitioned daughter is missing. Everyone else is dead. I have to report to the Council."

That wasn't good news. If the Anarki were attacking again, that meant Mathias was on the mend and his power rising once more. Caden didn't want to care, but . . . he rubbed his tired eyes with his fingers.

After seeing so much war and death in his life, attacks on families, on women, troubled him.

"What will you do next?"

Bram sighed. "What we have been: keep searching for Mathias, not to mention Shock and his brother, Zain, who appears to be the evil b.a.s.t.a.r.d's right-hand lackey."

"Have you considered telling other magical families about this attack? They have to start protecting themselves."

"So you're going to pretend you care about magickind now?" Caden restrained a growl. "I would not wish what's happened to my family on another."

"Rumors are beginning to spread about Mathias's return, but the decision to officially tell magickind falls with the Council. They approve transcasts and issue edicts."

"Certainly a few words on how best to defend yourself-"

"Which is why no such edict will be created any time soon. No one knows how to defend against Mathias, and the Council would rather err on the side of silence than inaccuracy. b.l.o.o.d.y stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"You're one of them," Caden pointed out.

"The lone voice of reason, I a.s.sure you. I've long argued that we should communicate magical news via transcasts or the like frequently. But by the time the Council agrees to the verbiage . . ." Bram scoffed.

"It's old news."

That didn't surprise Caden. Dawdling old fools, Lucan had long said, even their Uncle Sterling at times.