“Ha! You probably laughed as you shared me, like it’s some bloody joke.” Her posture screamed anger, but that vulnerable crack in her voice went straight to Caden’s heart.

“I promise,” Caden said. “That isn’t so.”

The other him stepped closer and cupped Sydney’s shoulder. The sight of any male hand on her, even a duplicate of his own, was an unwelcome sight.

“Don’t touch her,” Caden warned with a growl.

“He’s already had it all. Why be squeamish now?” she shot back tartly. Then she turned to the other him. “Get your bloody hand off me.”

Sydney clasped his wrist and shoved him away. When he tried to hold on, her fingernails raked his forearm, drawing blood. The clone hissed.

“Ouch!” Caden looked down at his own wrist, and though he didn’t see the scratch that appeared on his clone’s skin, he felt the pain. Very odd.

She zipped her gaze over to him. “I don’t know what’s going on here, you wanker. Wankers,” she corrected. “Bloody circus. Explain or get the hell out.”

Caden pressed his lips together, still minus a plausible explanation he was at liberty to divulge. Instead, he leaned closer and cupped her shoulder. “It’s . . . complicated.”

“No, it’s easy. You shared me with your twin, you bastard!” Sydney slapped him.

Face stinging, Caden reared back, wincing. He whirled, shocked to see an angry palm print on his clone’s cheek that likely mirrored his own.

He felt his clone’s pain, but did not sustain injury. The clone, however, suffered both. Confounding, but then, magic always was. Westin’s death alone proved that.

“Say something.” Tears began to seep from her eyes.

Nothing he said would make sense. Caden sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Bloody lame answer, his clone sneered inside his head.

Splendid. Now he could converse mentally with the unwanted prat.

She stomped her foot and grabbed a dressing gown littered on the floor near the bed. With angry movements, she thrust it on. “Piss off—both of you!”

As she marched from the bedroom, Caden’s mind reeled. Sydney would quickly find Duke, who was likely still loitering on Sydney’s sofa, and say she saw two Cadens. News of his ability to clone would go straight to Bram, who would find a use for him in this bloody war. No, thank you.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember everything he’d learned of magic as a young boy. He’d blocked out most, but bits, especially when Lucan had visited, returned.

Power and passion. Both were important in magic. A wizard had to have the magical ability to cast the spell they sought. Equally important was the desire for the outcome. In this case, he hoped that magic wouldn’t be so cruel as to saddle him with a power he couldn’t control. As much as he hated magic, he needed the clone gone.

Forearms straining with the tight clench of his fists, he focused on merging himself back into one essence, visualized his clone assimilating into his form. He heard a sucking noise, felt a slam against his back, followed by a pounding in his head. Bloody hell, every muscle hurt worse than before, and he felt slightly nauseous. But when he looked around, the blanket about his clone’s waist was in a heap on the ground and the being was gone.

So was Sydney.

He stumbled into his pants and raced out of her bedroom, calling her name. To his relief, she hadn’t gone far.

Duke had caught her after no more than a few steps and blocked her from escaping down the shadowed hallway.

The other man looked up when Caden raced out of the bedroom. “What the devil is going on here? She’s babbling something about kinky twin tricks.”

“Exhaustion.” Caden said the first thing that came to his belabored brain.

He hated hurting Sydney or making her look foolish. When would this magical nightmare end? Now that he’d transitioned, would it?

“Liar!” She wrested free of Duke’s grip and turned on him. “I saw two of you.”

Duke shot him an arch look.

Caden ignored him. “Sweetheart, you’ve had a busy time of it. We’re both tired—”

“I may be tired after two days of shagging, but I’m not daft.”

Caden shook his head. “Sydney, we should—” Two days?

If he’d been busy that long—so had Out of This Realm.

“Damn!” Caden turned to Sydney in horror, fearing the answer before he asked the question. “Did you ring Holly and tell her to pull the story about the book?”

Sydney blinked. “No. Don’t change the subject.”

“Fuck! It’s Saturday?” Caden demanded of the other man.

“Yes.”

The latest edition of Out of This Realm had come out that morning.

“Did the article print?” Duke asked with a wince.

“I’m certain it did,” she snapped back. “I’m not saying another word until you explain your twin.”

Duke repeated the curse as well, embellishing it with several creative accompaniments.

Wiping a hand across his tired face, Caden wondered what else could go wrong. He’d already transitioned into magic he didn’t want. Sydney had seen his clone and knew damn well she hadn’t been hallucinating. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep for the next week. Instead, he had to deal with the fact the public—including Mathias—could now read about the Doomsday Diary.

“What did the article say?”

“Why were there two of you?”

“Damn it, woman!” Duke thundered. “Answer him. This is life or death.”

Sydney looked like she wanted to argue, but Duke’s face deterred her. “I wrote that it’s red and reputed to be the creation of Morganna le Fay. That it has the ability to grant people’s . . . wishes.”

A more than adequate description for Mathias to identify the diary. Caden renewed his F-bombs. Duke followed suit.

“What? It’s all true,” Sydney spat.

Bram would be furious. Sydney would be in danger. Things were going to hell fast. And he feared matters would only get worse.

He had to fix this or he’d likely get eternal rest because either Bram or Mathias would put him six feet under. And the latter would make certain Sydney joined him.

“Where is the book now?”


Sydney narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

Caden looked at Duke, who stared back. He knew exactly what the other man was thinking: How the bloody hell should they answer that?

“Remember that curse I told you about?” Duke asked.

“Yes?” She arched a brow.

“No!” Caden stepped closer to her, his manner gentle. “This isn’t about a curse, but a madman who would do anything to obtain that book, even kill you.”

With a step back and a considering frown, Sydney regarded him. “How would you know this? From Scotland Yard, are you? What about that curse?”

“Nothing.” Caden risked another glance at Duke, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “We’ve simply had some experience with these affairs.”

“Madmen in general or ones after my book? The average person isn’t going to believe the article. Likely, they’ll all think I’m mad. I know better. And why should I believe a word you say when you’ve yet to explain my unexpected houseguest?”

“Dear God, spare me such a woman,” Duke muttered.

Caden and Sydney both shot him a glare, then he took her by the shoulders. “I know you’re angry and uncertain, but have I ever put your life in danger?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“Now is not the time to explain. Grab your book. We’ll need to find Aquarius. She knows where it came from, how it came to be unprotected.”

“Why would a book need protecting?”

“Do you think it’s a normal book?” Caden shot back.

Sydney flushed. So she knew it wasn’t. Had she written in it about him? She’d said no when he had asked before, but now he wondered.

“Go get it,” Duke barked. “We’re wasting time. Even now, we’re in jeopardy.”

Duke was right. Mathias could be breathing down their necks at any moment. He brought Sydney closer for a moment, terrified at the thought of the evil wizard after her. How much good would Duke and an exhausted, newly transitioned wizard do in fighting off an Anarki army? Highly unlikely that he’d be able to conjure a duplicate on purpose. And damn it, he didn’t want to use magic to fight. He’d rather stick with the training he’d received in the Marines.

Sydney broke his hold. “Until you explain everything, I am not budging an inch.”

“Pick her up and throw her over your shoulder, or by God, I will,” Duke ordered.

As much as it pained him to force Sydney, it was for her own good. With a curse, he bent at the knees and hoisted her onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, careful to keep her dressing gown over her pert little ass.

“Put me down, you bloody bastard! I’m going to string you up by your stones, then take a rusty knife to you.”

Wincing, Caden turned to Duke. “The book is on her night table. Grab it and put it in her hands.”

With a sharp nod, Duke turned and disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared, holding the Doomsday Diary, then shoved it into Sydney’s grasp.

They made their way toward her front door, Caden pinning Sydney’s struggling form onto his shoulder, Duke following in silent solidarity. Sydney more than broke the silence with a string of wretched curses. He hated to hurt her, but better she be angry than dead.

Three feet from the door, someone on the other side banged. Adrenaline burst into his blood stream. Caden paused, clutching Sydney. Duke drew his wand.

“Caden, are you bloody in there? If you’re not dead, I’ll kill you myself.”

Bram. Shit!

Heaving a sigh, Duke swerved around him and wrested open the door. Sure enough, the Doomsday Brethren’s leader stood on the other side, holding a newspaper in one hand. His other was clenched in a fist.

“Does someone want to tell me what the devil is going on here?” His gaze bounced back and forth between Caden and Duke.

“Who the blazes are you?” Sydney lifted her head and looked at Bram.

“Bram Rion. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since you started writing about those bodies in the tunnel.” Clenching his teeth, he slapped the newspaper on a nearby table and tore his attention away from Sydney to glare at Caden. “One small mission. Keep her quiet. And you failed miserably.”

“He’s just transitioned,” Duke cut in.

“Transitioned?” Sydney asked.

No one answered. Bram hesitated, cast another glance at Caden, then nodded before turning back to Duke. “Why did you stay all this time?”

Duke set his jaw. “Babysitting hasn’t been fun. I still need Marrok’s training—”

“Exactly.”

“I have no doubt other crises have erupted in the past two days. It’s been damn difficult to hold my impatience while nature took its course. But if she’d been unable to finish the task . . .”

Bram nodded in resignation.

“What are you blathering about?” Sydney wriggled and screamed until Caden let her down—right in the middle of the three. But she didn’t back down. Not his Sydney.

For a foolish moment, Caden was actually proud of his little firecracker. Even in the face of three large men and an incredibly bizarre situation, she didn’t cower or stop asking questions.

“Later,” he said. “We have to get out of here now.”

Sydney crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “You’ve promised answers. I’ve yet to receive them. I refuse to leave until I do. And the next one who tries to lift me over their shoulder will lose an arm.”

“We’ve no time for this.” Bram cursed. “You’re inexorably in the thick of things, so I’m going to give you the condensed version and trust that you want to save your own backside enough to keep quiet. There is a magickind, the three of us are all wizards, and every bloody one of those stories you’ve been writing has put us in danger. We don’t need exposure to humans so they can unleash a witch hunt. Nor do you want Mathias coming after you. But that’s exactly what will happen now that you were stupid enough to write this.” Bram held the paper up again. “As if that isn’t enough, you shared a byline in another story with Mathias’s second in command.” At her incredulous gasp, he went on. “Zain is loyal to the very villain you’ve reviled. Didn’t tell you that, did he?”

“Zain?” Caden whirled on Sydney. “Zain Denzell?”

Slowly, Sydney nodded. “Holly hired him as your replacement. He said he had photos of the magical war, information . . .”

“I’ll bet he did.” The thought of Zain anywhere near Sydney froze Caden’s blood.

“No doubt he also had nefarious plans for you,” Bram interjected. “I understand that Mathias repeatedly raped your source for these articles. If he finds you, he’ll do the same to you. Then kill you for the sport of it. When you were writing this, did you wonder if any of it was real? It is. Welcome to the war, cupcake.”

“Piss off!” Caden demanded. “She didn’t know.”

Bram grunted, but thankfully shut up.

Bloody hell. Reeling with a mixture of fatigue and shock, Caden thrust out an arm to steady himself. Holly had hired Zain as his replacement? And Bram telling Sydney virtually everything?

“Congratulations. You’ve just put her in even more danger,” Caden spat.

Bram raised a pale brow. “Don’t start. All you had to do was shut her up and get the book before every bloody Out of This Realm reader discovered our secrets and magickind’s greatest weapon. You failed.”

Caden reared back. He’d done his best to help. He knew it had been inadequate. But he had tried. Bram’s disdain felt like a slap in the face.

“Let’s cease this ridiculous sparring and get out of here before Mathias looks up your girlfriend and fries us all,” Duke suggested, his voice on edge.

His admonishment broke the tension between Bram and Caden. Sydney didn’t catch on—or didn’t want to.



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