Seduce Me in Shadow (Doomsday Brethren #2)

Only Caden.

Why? She barely knew him. A few days shouldn’t be enough to make her crave him. But she wanted him in a way that was beyond both her experience and her ability to describe. She didn’t just want, she needed to feel his mouth demanding carnal pleasure from her, to see desire in his eyes, to have him wrap her in his arms afterward and hold her tenderly. The thought of taking him in her hands, watching his pleasure build, then sharing herself with him and revealing how much he meant to her, made her ache. What the bloody hell was it about the man? They shared good chemistry . . . but this was more.

Sighing, she uncurled herself from the sofa and meandered back to her bedroom. She might as well tuck herself in early, catch up on sleep. Maybe this odd need would go away.

Good advice, but Sydney gravitated straight to the picture window in her bedroom. The night danced across the moonlit skyline, a vision of urban romance with St. Paul and the London Eye lit up. The sight magnified her loneliness. In the silent blue dark, with faint sounds of humanity below, she admitted that she didn’t want anyone but Caden.

If he wanted her, it wasn’t with the same passion.

As she turned away from the window to her bed, heavy tears filled her eyes again. Swallowing, she stared up at the ceiling and willed them away. Not now. Later, she would give in to her loneliness and her need for chocolate. If she started now, she feared she’d cry until her nose turned bunny red and her eyes swelled for days.

Determined to leave the pity party behind, Sydney went through her bedtime ritual. If she felt sorry for anyone, it should be that poor witch, who was haunted by a man she couldn’t remember—and wanted to so desperately. Her plight had touched something inside Sydney. Though her own parents were happy, she’d always been unlucky in love. And now she wanted no one but Caden.

Sydney crawled into bed. She closed her eyes and pictured him lying beside her, touching her, rolling over and demanding her body with just one look from those piercing blue eyes. In her mind, he murmured how much he wanted her, how much she meant to him, and she melted.

Foolish. She shook her head to clear away the fantasy. He wanted her story, her sources, her information, much more than he wanted her. She must dislodge the fantasy and get to sleep.

A distraction. She needed one now to take her mind off the melodrama of her own PMS-induced depression or whatever it was.

A good book would do the trick. Or maybe she should spend a little time with her new “magical” diary. She snorted, but she opened her nightstand drawer and glanced at it.

She’d expected Aquarius to fix her office in a Feng Shuifriendly arrangement or give her a half-hour session with an astrological counselor. But a magical journal that granted fantasies? The concept was intriguing and unexpected, but a bit far out—even for Aquarius.

What do you have to lose? her assistant had asked. Her dignity. Her sanity. Her hunky photographer when he laughed in her face if he ever saw what she wrote.

But how would he? She kept the book in her bedroom—a place he’d likely never enter. Besides, the possibility that she actually held a magical diary was as likely as little green men taking over Britain next week. So how would he ever know?

As she snuggled down into her blankets, she wondered what Caden would be like as a lover. Soft? Dominating? A challenge? Intense—she’d bet that much. Caden didn’t seem the type to do anything halfway.

At the thought, need gripped Sydney low in her belly. She felt hot and cold, light-headed and heavy-limbed as a new vision gripped her imagination. What if, yesterday morning, he hadn’t come to her flat to search for information, but to ravish her? What if, when she answered the door in her lingerie, he’d been overcome with passion and taken her right there? Mmm, heaven. Sinking into the vision, she imagined them breathing together—a sharp inhalation at the end of each plunging thrust. With strong fingers, he’d grip her hips as if he couldn’t get deep enough, wouldn’t be satisfied until he claimed her completely. She closed her eyes and let the fantasy consume her. A drop of sweat trickled down his brow, onto her chest. Jaw set, he threw his head back and moaned that no other woman affected him this way.

Yes, she knew he’d turned her down and been more interested in the contents of her stories than her knickers. But it was her fantasy.

Maybe . . . writing her wishes about Caden would be cathartic. If she got them out of her system, perhaps she could sleep and wake tomorrow with this odd obsession gone.

Sydney peeked at the diary. Flushed and tingling, she picked up the red book. To hell with caution. She would worry later about what would happen if Caden ever read her wishes. Or the unlikely chance that she could actually compel him to her bed magically. If that happened, she’d deal with the damage to her heart then. Plus, she’d earmarked the book as a potential story. If she was considering writing about the little volume, shouldn’t she research it?

Impulsively, she grabbed the little book and wrote:

Dear Magical Diary,

I have this fantasy. Mad, really. But I dream of Caden MacTavish storming my door, ordering me naked, ravishing my body . . .

An hour later, Sydney sighed as she put her pen aside and closed the book. Desire dampened her palms, the valley between her breasts, the cleft between her thighs. Oh, now she really ached for Caden and the delicious fantasy she’d just written.

Imagination was a powerful aphrodisiac. As the words flowed from her mind onto the page, Sydney felt as if she’d slipped into a trance. She could nearly feel Caden’s mouth caressing her nape, his fingers rolling her nipples, his erection sliding a burning path deep inside her. She could almost hear him say that he could not resist her for another minute, look at her like she alone mattered to him.

The compelling fantasy left her with an urgent need for satisfaction. And while she wanted Caden to sate her, he wasn’t here. Nor was he likely to suddenly appear and make this all a reality, despite Aquarius’s claims.

Sydney reached for the light, intent on dousing it so she could find her own relief. But she happened to glance at the book first. There, in script that was not hers, were two lines she had not written:

Sleep, dream, anticipate . . .

The fantasy you imagine will soon be your fate.

CHAPTER FOUR

SUNDAY MORNING CAME, AND though his head throbbed after drowning images of last night with whiskey, Caden knew he must ask someone to teleport him to London. He hated relying on magic, but without a clear idea where he was or how to get back to London, he was stuck.

“You look like hell,” Bram offered.

No shit. Caden pried open one eye, wincing at the sunlight, and stared back at the Doomsday Brethren’s leader. The wizard looked surprisingly disheveled and exhausted.

“You’re unlikely to win any bloody pageants, either.” Caden snorted, then sobered as he remembered Sabelle and her sacrifice. “Bram, about your sister . . . she’s taking a great deal of risk to help my brother and . . .”

He didn’t want anything tragic to befall Sabelle, but how could he tell Bram to make her stop when she might be the only person separating Lucan from death?

“You’re worried.” Bram sighed. “I’m not surprised. She’s always been too brave.”

“Helping Lucan is very dangerous.”

Bram frowned. “She’s your last recourse. I understand your discomfort. Even Ice had words with me last night about the matter. But, in truth, she’ll heed none of us and do exactly as she likes.”

Before Caden could argue, a series of gongs and whistles sounded, startling him.

Bram stiffened and swore. “What the hell does he want?”

“Who?” Caden scanned the room in confusion. There was no one about but the two of them.

“Shock Denzell. That sound is his magical calling card.”

Instead of mentally easing the barriers around the estate, Bram stomped down the stairs and darted out the open door. There, in the distance, stood a cross between a bodybuilder and a Mack truck. Something out of a Terminator movie. Big, bad, and hiding behind dark sunglasses, Shock stood with arms crossed over his leather-clad chest, wearing an unapologetic fuck-off glare.

“Why are you here?” Bram stalked out to meet him. Caden followed in curiosity.

“Let me in.”

Caden stiffened. The man had been Lucan’s rival for Anka. Since Caden had been avoiding everyone magical for years, he didn’t know the intimate details of his brother’s life. He hadn’t seen Lucan’s mate since he was a young boy. But one thing he knew: His brother hated Shock.

“After the way you supported your old chum Mathias a few short weeks ago?” Bram stopped before the wizard, arms crossed. “I think not.”

“Are you bloody stupid?” Shock whispered. “Who put the Doomsday Diary back in Olivia’s hands that night? Who helped her focus her magic so she could blast Mathias with her power?”

“Trying to convince me you’re a hero?” Bram drawled, skeptical brow raised.

“Pull your head out of your arse, Rion. Think.”

“Right now, I simply can’t. Your boss is making my life hell and I would rather fry your brain and be done with you.”

“You’re a stubborn sod, you know that? I’m being cautious in case I’ve been followed. Zain is suspicious and eager to please Mathias. Let me in so we can’t be overheard, and I’ll explain.”

“Are you alone?”

Caden whirled on Bram. Trust Shock? “Are you mad?”

The wizard ignored him.

Shock threw his arms wide as if to illustrate his solitude. “Yes. If I weren’t, I know you’d try to kill me.”

“There would be no try about it.” Then Bram closed his eyes, frowning in concentration. A minute later, he pierced Shock with a cold stare. “You have three minutes to explain where the bloody hell you’ve been. If you pull anything, nearly every Doomsday warrior is here and would be glad to help me off you. If I dislike your answer, I’ll shut you in a room with Lucan, and God help you then.”

Shock scowled, looking puzzled, but began hiking through the foggy morning, toward the house. Caden wondered how the devil Shock could possibly be confused.

“I say we skip his explanation and let Lucan take him apart. I’ll help.”

“The option has appeal, but I want to hear this.”

“Honestly,” Caden whispered, holding him back. “Who benefited most when Anka disappeared?”

“Shock, clearly. But Olivia herself saw Anka with Mathias.”

“And who does Shock likely work for? Perhaps I’ve been chasing Sydney’s source foolishly. Maybe Shock has Anka under our noses and in his bed.”

Bram paused. “I don’t think he’d advocate a scheme that allowed Mathias to abuse her. Shock Called to Anka. A wizard’s first instinct is to protect the woman he sees as his mate. Besides, during the battle in the tunnel, Shock delivered the Book of Doomsday to Olivia, not Mathias. The big question is, why?”

Likely for his own purposes. Caden gritted his teeth. Bram was going to think whatever he wished until something convinced him otherwise; he’d learned that much about the wizard in the last few weeks. Fine. Shock would show his true colors soon enough.

A few moments later, they entered the foyer, the click of Shock’s boots surprisingly quiet for someone who so nearly qualified as a giant. Caden sized him up, hate poisoning his blood. Shock must know something about Anka’s whereabouts. He was likely hoping Lucan would die and leave behind a grieving widow looking for someone to cling to.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” Shock challenged him.

“Trash.”

The big wizard set his jaw, mouth tight. “I haven’t come here to fight with you.”

In a way, Caden wished he would. If it weren’t for the magic thing, Caden believed that he could take Shock and teach him a lesson or two, despite the fact Shock was big and mean. Caden had fast reflexes, good training, and fury on his side.

“You can’t beat me. I could crush you without magic. Learn to mask your thoughts, neophyte.”

That was it; Caden had had enough. A part of him wanted to avenge his brother. He’d done precious little else for Lucan in years. What if he died before Caden could make amends? The other part of him simply hated his leather-clad swagger.

As he lunged for Shock, Bram stuck out an arm, blocking his chest and, using some sort of damn magic, pushed him against the wall.

“You two aren’t doing this now.” Then he turned to Shock. “Say what you came to.”

“I want everyone to hear, Ice, Marrok, Duke, Lucan.”

“Ice and Marrok are here. I’ll call for Duke.” Bram paused. “I’ll play along that you know nothing about Anka.”

“Anka?” Shock’s face lost the challenging sneer. “What about her?”

“Your boss took her from my brother,” Caden spat, frustration at the last few weeks boiling up. “He broke their bond, raped her, and now she’s missing.”

Shock froze. Violence filled the air as his mouth thinned into a white line. “What?”

“Terriforz,” Bram supplied. “It appears Mathias overtook Anka’s mind and forced her body to crave what she mentally rejected. Now, we can’t locate her.”

Shock looked at the ceiling, drew in a deep, noisy breath. Caden had the distinct impression the wizard was collecting himself.

When he looked back at them, rage had transformed his face. Even with the sunglasses, Caden discerned horror and anger—and bloodlust.

He whirled on Bram. “How is this fucking possible? How did I not hear about this?”

“Actually, that’s our question for you. After all, you and Mathias are chummy these days.”

Shock shook his head. “We’re playing bloody head games. Don’t you know that he became the most feared wizard of our time because he’s damned devious? He’s suspicious and keeps many secrets. Do you have any leads on Anka’s whereabouts? Can Lucan help?”