Chapter 52
Chapter
Fifty-Two
E erie patches of fog swirl around us as I join Sydney and the Doomsday Brethren outside. I’m dressed for battle, armed to the teeth, but my eyes are drawn to Sydney. She stands beside Shock, clutching the Doomsday Diary like a lifeline. When our gazes meet, I see a flicker of longing, a plea for comfort. But it’s Shock she turns to for protection, and that cuts deeper than any blade.
“Everyone knows their assignment, right?” Bram’s voice rings out, more command than question.
“Aye.” Marrok loads a wicked Glock with a smile, his sword hanging at his side.
“Got it.” Ice has a gleam in his eyes. He’s looking forward to this. No surprise since Mathias brutally murdered his sister two hundred years ago.
“Can’t wait.” Tynan is all business, but his eyes glow with the pleasure of vengeance.
“Quite.” Despite the pair of guns slung low on his hips, Duke manages to look like he stepped off a magazine cover, exuding lethal grace.
“And I’m with the skirt,” Shock grouses.
Red clouds my vision. “She’s not a ‘skirt.’ She’s a very worthy female, and you’re treading on dangerous ground.”
Shock responds with an obnoxious finger gesture that fuels my anger.
“Why are you here?” Bram’s sharp question snaps me back to reality.
I strap on another blade and secure the clip in my S & W, fumbling for words. “You need backup.”
Bram’s laugh is humorless. “Every warrior here has skin in the game, except you. You’re thinking with your cock, and you’re only here to protect the woman you don’t have the balls to claim.”
His words sting because they’re true. If Sydney hadn’t pushed her way into this madness, I wouldn’t be here. Not out of fear, but because any hint of joining could trap me in this world of magic and loss. Unfortunately, Sydney’s recklessness forced my hand.
“I’ve got your six,” I insist, willing him to understand.
“Even though you don’t give a shit about this mission and won’t become one of us, we’re expected to trust you with our lives?”
It’s a fair question. My respect for Bram grudgingly increases. “You’re all protecting Sydney. So yes, I care.” I lock eyes with her, hating how small she looks next to Shock. “I’ll die for her—and anyone keeping her safe.”
Tears gather in Sydney’s eyes before she looks away. The distance between us is a physical ache.
Finally, Bram nods. “All right. We need every fighter we can get. I’ll provide you a wand. Practice would have been advisable, but under the circumstances, your instinct will have to do.”
“I don’t want a wand,” I insist. “The Marines taught me everything I need.”
“At least your knowledge of explosives will help. Now, let’s review. Not a word of objection, understood?” At my reluctant nod, he continues. “Shock says the gift of hypnosis runs in his family. He will put Sydney into a trance… It’s merely a ruse so Mathias believes he’s leading her into their lair without giving away their location.”
As Bram outlines the plan, dread coils in my gut. I’m terrified for Sydney, furious at myself for not stopping this, and grudgingly impressed by her bravery. But mostly, I’m haunted by the realization that I might lose her before I ever truly had her. And it’s my own damn fault.
Sydney
At the sound of a sharp snap, I come to. My vision clears, focusing on Shock’s inscrutable face behind those damn sunglasses. I’m still not sure I trust him. Instinctively, I tighten my grip on the book, its weight both comforting and terrifying.
The room materializes around me—soaring ceilings, stark floors, and bare walls. Through a partition, I glimpse a warehouse transformed into a chic industrial loft. A black leather sofa and gleaming glass tables occupy the makeshift office. Beyond the walls, I hear shuffles and grunts, hinting at unseen dangers.
Is this really Mathias’s lair?
“Welcome.” A voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, cuts through my thoughts.
I turn, and my breath catches. The man before me is devastatingly handsome—all chiseled features and rippling muscles barely contained by a tight black shirt. Exotic cheekbones frame a lush, smiling mouth. Dark hair with golden-brown streaks falls to broad shoulders. For a heartbeat, I’m mesmerized. He’s a sexual animal in his prime with enough magnetism for ten men.
Then I meet his eyes.
Pale blue and framed by thick lashes, they’re beautiful at first glance. But beneath that beauty lurks a coldness that chills me to the bone. These are the eyes of a predator, of a man who’d watch the world burn for his own amusement.
Maybe I’ve been listening to Aquarius too long. I can’t see this man’s aura, but I feel it. Calculating, soulless. Evil.
I steel myself, falling into my rehearsed role. “Thank you.”
“I’m Mathias.” He extends his hand, a spider offering its web.
Every instinct screams at me to recoil, but I force myself to shake it. Fire lances up my arm at his touch, and I yank my hand back, fighting the urge to scrub my skin raw.
“Would you care to sit?” He gestures to the sofa with elegant menace.
I glance at Shock, catching his barely perceptible nod. Heart pounding, I clutch the book tighter as I perch on the edge of the leather, pressing RECORD on the hidden camera in my bag. I position the lens in the little hole I cut out of the leather and point it right at Mathias.
Got you, you bastard .
“Shock tells me you’ve brought me quite the gift," Mathias purrs. “Anyone who delivers the Doomsday Diary deserves a reward.”
“I-I stumbled across it in my research. Actually, a stranger gave it to me after my first article printed. But when I heard about your quest for equality among magickind, I thought it might be best in your hands.” The bitter lie nearly chokes me.
Mathias’s eyes glitter, a serpent eyeing its prey. “How thoughtful. Why don’t you hand it over now?”
The air thickens with tension. I can feel the noose tightening, knowing one wrong move could spell disaster. But beneath the fear, a thrill of defiance surges. I’m here to expose this monster, and I’ll be damned if I let him intimidate me.