Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Sydney
A n hour later, I know for certain that Caden is following me. I duck into a little jewelry shop. Moments later, he peeks in the window. Not for an instant do I believe that he’s shopping for a lovely pair of earrings or a belly stud.
Clearly, the slippery sod has a hidden agenda.
The way I see things is this: yesterday, I refused to let Caden accompany me to visit my information source today. So he turned up on my doorstep this morning and professed romantic interest as a means to soften me up. Honestly, how stupid does he think I am? I called his bluff over lunch by propositioning him. Sadly, his stuttering refusal only proved he’s feeding me a line of crap.
I mean, after professing his infatuation, what unattached, heterosexual, red-blooded man turns down sex? Only the kind trying to dupe me. And the way he’s sneaking after me now merely confirms my suspicions. The only thing he’s shown genuine interest in since coming to work with me is the magical war story.
Obviously, he means to steal it.
Who would he sell it to? I don’t know, and it hardly matters. He’ll get that scoop over my dead body.
I’m hopping mad. He’s full of lies, and I should steer clear.
Unfortunately, my libido has other ideas.
More’s the pity. I’ve never been so drawn to a man in my life.
His lies about his feelings don’t hurt. All right, perhaps a bit. But I hate that he’s so intent on using me.
I can’t think with my emotions. If I’m going to keep my story and my distance, I have to get smart.
After all, I intend to meet my source shortly—alone, thank you. Hopefully, the battered witch will tell me more of her woeful but engrossing tale. I don’t know whether to believe her fantastical story, but she clearly does. Not only does it tear at my heart, but it’s been proven to sell papers. As far as my boss is concerned, nothing else matters.
I shove thoughts of my gorgeous, deceitful photographer aside. I’ll deal with him later.
Exiting to the street again, I walk half a block, then peek back as I round a corner.
I’ll give Caden credit; I can’t see him behind me, but I sense him. As I take another bend in the road, I catch a glimpse of him, pretending interest in a street vendor who shivers in the November chill. But I know Caden is watching me.
Nonchalantly, I proceed south, hunkering down into my coat until I find the perfect place. I dodge traffic and cross the intersection before entering an always-crowded pub. On a stool near the back, far from the barkeep, I sit.
A dozen seconds later, Caden blows in, along with a stiff breeze. I grab a discarded menu and pretend not to notice him at all as he wanders along the front of the pub, looking out the windows and presumably not noticing me at all. Finally, he sits at an empty table in the corner, grabs a menu—and peers at me over the top. I make a great show of checking my watch and my mobile, fidgeting and squirming.
Finally, a waitress pops by to take his order. Now is my chance.
I rise and head conspicuously for the toilet. I truly wish I could see the look on Caden’s face when he realizes I’m gone.
As the door to the loo shuts behind me, the thought makes me smile.
Caden
Sydney has vanished. Out the window of the loo, I guess. Brilliant.
I’ve underestimated both her cleverness and determination. Again.
Frustrated, I rake a hand through my hair. How the devil can I find her source and keep her safe if she doesn’t trust me? I can’t bloody well tell her the whole truth, but Sydney doesn’t realize the danger she’s in.
My phone rings. A glance at the display has me cursing not so softly.
“What?” I snap.
“Your delightful mood means things aren’t going well, I take it?” Bram drawls.
“The woman is too smart by half and knows everything I say is shit.”
“You’re not being charming enough.”
I grit my teeth. “Deception isn’t my style.”
“Do you need me to demonstrate charm?”
The thought of him anywhere near Sydney makes me feel homicidal. “The same charm you showed your now-missing mate?”
“Leave my mate out of this,” Bram snarls.
If you return the favor.
As soon as the words blaze through my mind, I curse. I have to stop thinking about Sydney like that. I don’t want a magical mate. I don’t want anything to do with magic at all. The cost is too high.
“Likewise. Leave Sydney alone.”
“Wait. Are you having the urge to Call to this reporter?”
I want to say no…but every time I’m near her, my temperature spikes. She’s a fever in my blood that’s only getting worse, and if I kiss her, I fear I’ll blurt the words that could bind us together for nearly a thousand years.
Not good signs.
Her proposition at lunch nearly had me launching myself at her with a hearty “yes” as I ripped off her clothes. Yes, I want her naked. Yes, I crave the chance to taste every inch of her fair skin. Yes, I burn to possess her sweet body. Yes, I’m eager to call all that intelligence and sass mine. Yes, I’ll die to protect her. But giving into my urges would spell disaster.
Too bad no one has given my instincts the memo.
“Focus on the mission,” I growl in frustration. “She knows I’ve scarcely said a true word to her since we met. She’s seeing her contact this afternoon and figured out I’m following her, so she intentionally lost me. She’s thinking of writing an article about the Doomsday Diary. You know what will happen if she does.”
Bram curses. “She’ll get a very unpleasant, first-hand look at magic, Mathias-style.”
“Precisely.” I grip the phone, the thought too terrible to contemplate. To protect Sydney, I have to do whatever it takes to silence her voice.
God, she’s going to hate me.
And as much as it chafes me to ask for Bram’s help, I have little choice.
“You need to step in,” I choke out. “I’m compromised. Sydney knows I’m zeroed in on the magical war story and that my seduction wasn’t real.”
“I can’t. You’ll have to manage.” Suddenly, Bram sighs, sounding frustrated. “There was another attack last night. Nearly everyone dead, two women missing. One transitioned just last week. Gossip and panic are beginning to spread around magickind about Mathias’s return. The Council elders have their thumbs up their arses, as usual. They want me to quell the rumors.”
I’m annoyed but hardly surprised. “Bloody fools.”
“They absolutely are. I’m trying to be the voice of reason, but they don’t want logic. Duke and I are visiting Privileged households likely to be attacked and preaching caution, but…being forced to dance around the truth is frustrating. I dare not leave the Council to their own devices for long. I’d insist on transcasting the truth to all witches, wizards, and younglings, but I don’t have enough of the other Councilmen’s votes in my corner. In the meantime, Marrok is ferociously training us for the war we know is coming.”
“Surely, you can spare someone?—”
“Who? Duke is too high profile. Ice wouldn’t talk, merely destroy Out of this Realm with his big bloody hands. Lucan isn’t capable of being human right now. And don’t start me on Shock, the dodgy git.”
“But—”
“Magic isn’t a cure-all. I can’t just wave my wand and have Sydney forget about the book and her story ideas. None of us can. You must convince her.”
Then what the hell good is magic? None. I had proof enough of that early in life.
I grip the back of my neck and massage at the tension gripping me. The damn tingles have returned. I’m exhausted, yet my body craves sex. Lots of lovelies in the pub, several looking in my direction. But a glance south proves my cock is having none of them. It’s fixated on Sydney. I sigh.
“Get closer to Sydney, however you must,” Bram goes on. “Convince her of whatever’s necessary. Get that bloody diary out of her hands. Stop those stories.”
Fuck all. If Sydney doesn’t trust me and I don’t dare touch her, how am I supposed to do all that?