Chapter 51
Chapter
Fifty-One
Sydney
A fter Aquarius and I hug, cry, and reassure each other, she tells me about Zain’s horrific torture. It fuels the fire in my belly. What Mathias and his goons have done to her and Anka makes me more determined to help protect others, Caden’s protests be damned.
I’m going to push Bram on this transcast thing. After all, he didn’t say no earlier. The Council might be against it, but Bram is itching to spread the word about Mathias. I’m simply going to help him do what he’s dying to.
I race down the stairs, adrenaline pumping. Raised voices leak from Bram’s study, and I pause, hand poised to knock.
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Ice’s boom carries through the heavy wood.
The irony of the “mad” warrior questioning someone else’s sanity isn’t lost on me.
“For the first time in nearly two hundred years, we agree on something,” Bram quips.
Shock’s growl follows. “Are any of you stupid sods listening? I can’t lead you to Mathias in his lair with your hands tied and your wands confiscated. Mathias fell for that trap once, and it led to his exile.”
“Aye,” Marrok agrees. “Though we call him many unpleasant things, he has never shown himself to be hen-brained. We will get but one chance to surprise him.”
“Indeed,” Hurstgrove adds. “Besides, if you pretend to lead us to Mathias and we unleash our fight, he’ll be suspicious of you in the future, Shock. I’m not certain that serves our long-term interests.”
“But a pair of us claiming to be traitors and offering to bring him the book?” Ice again, his tone conveying the absurdity of Shock’s idea. “Why can’t we simply lure him out and whip his arse?”
“No.” Bram’s authoritative voice cuts through. “Should we fail, that plan leaves him a base to run back to and regroup. I want to destroy his home turf, disrupt his operations. And if Shock lures him out, to Duke’s point, Mathias will never trust him again. We’re missing one important point: If we want use the diary as bait, a woman must carry the book.”
That’s my cue. I burst through the doors, chin high. “I’ll take it to him.”
Six pairs of male eyes all swivel my way, expressions ranging from stunned to intrigued.
“You’re not a witch,” Bram points out.
I swallow my hot retort and play it cool. “I’m female, but if you insist on someone magical, I suppose you’ll send Sabelle.”
Bram rears back. “Absolutely not!”
Ice’s glare could melt steel. Clearly, he’s against that, too.
I laugh, as if I’ve been incredibly daft. “Of course, you’ll take Olivia. Married to the ultimate warrior, descendant of Morgana, she’ll be a gifted witch.”
Marrok’s hand flies to his sword hilt. “I know not what game you play, but my tender, untrained wife will be nowhere near this battle.”
I blink innocently. “But if you need a woman to pretend to deliver the book to Mathias in order to breach his defenses and you’re against using Sabelle and Olivia, who did you have in mind?”
Silence. Not one of them will meet my eyes.
I clear my throat, triumph bubbling inside me. “Might I suggest that I’m the perfect candidate. I loathe Mathias for what he’s done to Anka and Aquarius, and I relish the opportunity to be a part of an attack that could destroy him.”
Bram’s eyes narrow. “How do you know what we’re about?”
“Your voices are louder than your doors are thick. I’m volunteering because I know you need the assistance, and I’m not personally valuable to anyone here. Unless you prefer to try the trick that felled Mathias once before…” I struggle to keep the smirk off my face. I’ve got them, and they know it.
“Caden does not consider you expendable,” Hurstgrove says softly. “Quite the opposite.”
My heart skips, but I push on. “Since he hasn’t seen fit to kiss me to ascertain pertinent facts or speak certain words…” Their jaws drop. “Yes, I know about your mating rituals. So if I have your blessing to assist, this decision is mine alone.”
The silence stretches, thick with tension.
“She makes excellent points,” Ice grudgingly admits.
“She’s got more gumption than half the men I know,” Tynan adds.
Marrok’s ancient eyes bore into me. “Aye, a warrior spirit in a small body. Know you that if you attempt this, you risk grave danger?”
“Of course. But just as you’re willing to risk your very lives to stop Mathias, so am I. I may not have your brawn or magical ability, but my wit has saved me from more than one scrape. I may be more helpful than you imagine.”
“This isn’t fodder for one of your stories,” Bram growls.
“At the moment, my only thought is to help. We can negotiate the rest later.”
“This isn’t your fight.”
“That bastard hurt my friend.”
Bram taps his toe against the expensive Persian rug, exchanging a loaded glance with Hurstgrove.
“We need a woman to carry the book. Unless one of you knows of a female warrior…”
The reluctant shake of Bram’s head is all I need.
I paste on my sweetest smile. “Well?”
“You are a minx.” Bram sighs. “Very well. But there are rules.”
“Indeed?”
“If you want to stay alive, you must behave as if you’re delivering the book to him because as you researched your articles, you agreed with his message of equality.”
“Easy enough.” And likely the only tactic that will allow me to escape in one piece.
“You don’t go alone.”
“I prefer not to. But who can I take without arousing his suspicion?”
All eyes drift to the warrior in leather with the very bad attitude.
Shock bristles. “I’m not here to fucking babysit.”
“Too bad.” Bram’s tone is unequivocal. “You tell Mathias that you met her through Zain and that you persuaded her to come with you to give him the book. Insist that you promised her protection in exchange for the diary and some positive press. This buys you credibility and Sydney’s freedom. And a way to ‘accidentally’ leave the protections around his base open.”
“You want me to escort her in, keep the trail to his compound cracked for you to enter, then leave?” Shock isn’t thrilled.
That makes two of us. “You want me to deliver the book into a madman’s hands and walk away?”
“Yes and yes.” Bram crosses his arms over his chest.
“Your plan has two flaws: first, it keeps the book in Mathias’s hands.”
“Not quite,” Bram counters, a glint in his eye. “If you force Mathias to snatch the book from you, rather than handing it over willingly, it’ll boomerang back to you the moment you’re out of there. We’re not certain what happens if you give it freely. So use that sharp wit of yours and make him steal it.”
I nod, processing this. “Clever. But there’s still another issue: I’m only in if I can record evidence of Mathias’s return, so I’ll need a small camera. After, I’ll transcast my proof. Magickind deserves the truth.”
“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” Bram demands.
“Indeed. You also know it’s the right thing to do. Man up.”
“Well, fuck. There goes my Council seat.” He sounds resigned, but I see a gleam in his eyes.
As the details fall into place, a mix of excitement and terror courses through me. I’m about to dive headfirst into a magical war. It’s madness. It’s dangerous. And it’s absolutely necessary.
Caden will be furious when he finds out, but I’ll deal with him when I must. Right now, I have a world to save and a story to tell. God help anyone who tries to stand in my way.
Caden
I burst into Sydney’s bedroom as dawn breaks, my heart pounding. “You’re meeting Mathias? Absolutely not. You will not go.”
My authoritative tone falters as I drink her in. Christ, she’s barely dressed. I stare at her body, clad only in her bra and very tiny knickers. With effort, I drag my stare to her face, squaring my shoulders with determination. I’ve come to save her from a deadly mistake, not gawk.
Sydney, the minx, puts on a show. She adjusts her bra with deliberate slowness, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her creamy breast. When one strap “accidentally” falls off, I nearly groan.
I can’t let her lead me around by my cock. But bloody hell, her lacy knickers are actually a thong! When she bends over to don a pair of socks, the sight of her bare backside and graceful legs stops all thought. Sydney’s coy look over her shoulder nearly undoes me.
“It’s none of your business,” she says, voice husky as she tugs on her shirt, then reaches for her jeans.
Her words snap me back to reality. “It bloody well is, woman. Bram tasked me with returning the book to him and shutting you up. I’ve managed the first. I’ll do the second today. No attack. No transcasting.”
“Bram and I made other plans.” She shrugs, infuriatingly casual. “Sorry.”
She fastens her jeans, grabs her trainers, and tries to slide by me. I pull her close. God, she feels perfect against me. Her lips, so right under my own, beg to be kissed.
“Did you want something?” she breathes.
You. All of you. To claim that smart mouth in every way imaginable .
“Spit it out or let me go.”
If only it were that simple. “You’re my business, Sydney.”
“Based on?”
I clench my jaw. Without finishing the Call, I have no real claim. My head knows that. My heart refuses to accept it.
“I care about you,” I admit, though the words are inadequate.
“Really?” Anger flashes in her eyes. “Prove it, then. Kiss me.”
Her challenge ignites me. She has no idea how desperately I want to taste her. Last night while searching for Anka at a pub, I was surrounded by interested women. All I could think about was Sydney. She’s consumed me, body and soul.
But that doesn’t change our situation.
“I can’t,” I choke out with regret.
“You won’t . Just like you won’t finish those words you started speaking in the library.”
Bloody hell, someone explained mating to her. No wonder she’s livid.
Frustration, fear, and longing boil over. “You’re right. I refuse to see you in danger. That’s exactly where you’ll be if you join this attack or if we mate. I can’t drag us deeper into this magical mess.”
“Why not?”
“What if Mathias takes you? What if I lose you? I just…can’t.”
To my surprise, her face softens. “What happened? Why do you distrust magic? You didn’t choose a human path without reason. I know you don’t fear battle or relationships. But you’ve avoided both—and me, because you suspect I’m your mate. What tragedy made you so afraid?”
I freeze, her perceptiveness stunning me. She deserves answers, but reopening Westin’s wound will solve nothing.
“Leave the past in the past. Please.”
Sadness settles over her face as she braids her fiery hair. “Bury your head in the sand, then. I can’t. We should go. They’re waiting.”
“Move, whelp,” Shock growls from behind me, then motions toward Sydney. “Ready?”
She heads toward him, fixing me with a look that chills me to the core. “I am.”
As they leave, panic claws at my chest. I’m losing her, to danger and to my own cowardice. And I’m not sure which terrifies me more.