Bram shrugged. “No. Lucan is mad with mate mourning, Anka was with Mathias . . . then disappeared.”

“So you don’t even know if she’s alive?”

Caden hadn’t wanted to entertain the notion that she might be otherwise. But deep down, in a sick region of his stomach, he worried. She had been alive a few days following Mathais’s abduction, but since . . . the ruthless bastard may have killed her and disposed of her body.

Bram shook his head.

“What’s been done to recover her?” Shock barked.

Not a word about Lucan or what he’d endured. Prick. “I’m looking. She belongs to my brother, and I will—”

“Piss off,” Shock shouted. “If your brother hadn’t stolen her away, she would have been my mate, safe in my house. I will find her.”

Over his dead body. He must find Anka before Shock did.

“How?” Bram challenged. “Can you ask Mathias?”

“Call the others. I’ll explain.”

Within a few minutes, Ice and Marrok crowded into Bram’s office. Arguments ensued. Accusations were hurled. Shock didn’t have many fans among the Doomsday Brethren. In fact, he was generally regarded as a traitor. Caden smiled in grim satisfaction.

It took a few moments more, but Duke arrived, looking more than a bit disinterested in Shock’s excuses.

Once everyone was seated, Shock brushed everyone’s attitudes aside and paced at the front of the room, excess energy rolling off of him.

“First, I had no notion about Anka.” Shock looked up and speared Caden with a glance. “I will do everything I can to find her. You have my word.”

The word of a wizard, especially this one, meant little to Caden, but arguing that point would only belabor the conversation.

“You all assumed the worst of me,” Shock began. “Given my family name, I’m not surprised. But I never imagined that the lot of you would be that thick.”

“Meaning?” Bram raised a haughty brow to let Shock know he was treading thin ice.

“Do you daft fools really believe you’re going to defeat Mathias in a fair fight? We’re five; seven if we count junior and the lunatic.”

Again, Caden gnashed his teeth to restrain the urge to pound Shock.

“Mathias,” he went on, “has a growing army we barely know how to fight. A handful of able-bodied fighters against a sea of willing suicide killers. Did you honestly believe we could win without a spy? Without someone to rot the Anarki from the inside out?”

Damn it all. Caden really hated this bastard. But he made sense.

Bram raised a sharp brow. “So you abandoned us abruptly because you saw an opportunity to pretend to join Mathias’s cause, earn his trust, and eventually stab him in the back?”

“Exactly. I visited my brother in your holding cell after Lucan and Duke captured him at Marrok’s cottage. I got an earful of Zain’s hero worship for Mathias and a load of alarming information that made me realize we cannot win without being one step ahead. The only way to do that is to have a mole on the inside.”

Marrok crossed his enormous arms across his chest. “If that is so, why did you not warn us that Mathias had killed my mate’s father, then masqueraded as Gray so he could lure her to bring the diary to him? Or that he planned to attack in the tunnel?”

“Or have any bloody clue what had happened to Anka or where she is now?” Caden challenged.

He cursed. “Mathias knows I’ve never backed others with his views, so he’s leery of my support. Trust will take time to build. I’m making progress. Be patient.”

Be patient . . . while the Doomsday Brethren were left to wonder whether Shock was being honest or using these words as a ploy so he could betray them. A quick glance around proved warriors’ attitudes were anywhere from considering to accusatory.

“Let’s pretend for a moment that any of us believe you,” Bram said. “The first thing I would say is—”

“Pretend you believe? Piss off. The lot of you!” He pinned Bram with a narrow-eyed glare. “In case you’ve forgotten, you asked me to join the Doomsday Brethren. I don’t need your distrust.”

Shock charged toward the door. Marrok blocked it.

“Out of my way, human.”

Marrok leveled him with a stare that would make a normal man shiver. “I will let you leave when Bram tells me you can pass. Not before.”

“I can zap the life out of you,” he sneered.

Marrok drew his broadsword. “Not before I sever your head from your body.”

“Gentlemen,” Bram placated. “Enough. As you always say, Marrok, we cannot defeat Mathias if we are too busy fighting one another. Because I have no better option and you know it, we will continue with your ‘plan,’ Shock. For now. I want regular reports, and they’d best be useful. Provide me ideas about the means necessary to defeat Mathias, information like the size of his army and any vulnerabilities. And do it quickly. If you do, we’ll get on just fine. Betray me, and I will find you, then kill you slowly and without mercy.”

Caden smiled. “With that I’ll be happy to help.”

Monday morning arrived, as did Caden at nine sharp, sticking his head inside Sydney’s office. He looked generally out of sorts and agitated. Pity for him. If Caden liked doormats, they weren’t going to get on very well.

Since he couldn’t read her lascivious thoughts or know what she’d written in her “magical” diary, his visit must be about the magickind story again. She sighed.

Even so, one glance at him was like a punch to her stomach. He looked incredible in charcoal slacks, a crisp white collar, and a burgundy sweater that accentuated his outdoorsman’s coloring and deep-blue eyes. She must stop mooning like an adolescent. The man was trying to steal from her, no matter how gorgeous he looked. Wanting someone who sought to use her was both stupid and self-destructive.

She sent him a bland expression, then looked back to her computer screen. “What is it MacTavish? Angry that I lost you at the pub?”

He shook his head. “No. I want to talk to you. I have since Saturday, but prefer not to talk in the office.”

“Well, I’ve work to do, so if you’ve something to say, speak up now. And this best be good.”

“I came to see you last night.” His stare was hot, direct. It nearly melted her.

The thought of Caden in her flat again, as she’d written in the diary, made her shiver with longing. Stupid. She’d best keep her head with this one—or she’d find herself out of a story.

“Did you? I fell asleep early. But after feeding me a load of shit about having inappropriate feelings for me, I’m shocked that you dared to knock on my door again.”

“That wasn’t a load of shit.”

“So you stopped by to . . . what? Proposition me after you’d already refused sex?”

“No. To apologize for trying to force you to take me to your contact. If I want your trust as a partner, that wasn’t the way to earn it.”

The sincerity in his words pried her gaze away from her e-mails and back to Caden. Granted, this could be another ruse to earn her trust, but he looked earnest.

“All right, then. Tell me, why are you pursuing this story so hard?”

“I’ve no wish to steal it. I know you think I do. I swear, I’m not working for a rival or hoping to plaster it across the Internet with my byline.”

She propped her chin on her hand. “Really? Then why is your curiosity insatiable?”

He shrugged. “I’m not alone. According to our last staff meeting, so is your readers’.”

“True, but your interest seems a bit more intense.”

He sighed, looking reluctant. “I’m worried. Mathias sounds powerful. If you print this story, will he or his army be able to track your source down? How do you know she isn’t critical to Mathias’s success and that he won’t come after her again if you even hint at this woman’s location? Who or what will keep her safe? Is she going with Aquarius on holiday or staying at Aquarius’s place? Will she be safe? If he can’t find her, what about you? Won’t he pursue you to lead him to her?”

“I can’t imagine that anyone magical reads—” Sydney stopped and scanned her memory. “Aquarius’s place? I never said that.”

Instantly, Caden stiffened. “You did. The other day.”

Sydney thought again. “No. I had something like that written down, though. On the notes in my handbag. You snooped.” Oh, the lying snake! “You came to my flat Saturday, not because you’re interested in me, but because you were prying through my notes. See, you merely want to talk to my source so you can scoop me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You turned down a blatant invitation for sex and repeated things I wrote only in my notes. You apologized to get back in my good graces. It’s clear what you’re after.”

Instead of guilt, desire ripped across his expression. He raked his hands through his hair, practically oozing frustration. Sydney had never seen him so agitated.

“You’re wrong.” Through clenched teeth, he vowed, “If I had been less of a gentleman, I would have very gladly taken you up on your offer, fucked you like mad, and shown you not just that I want you, but precisely how.”

That low-voiced growl, the way his stare seemed to burn the clothes from her body . . . The man made her a walking hormone. Her knickers suddenly went damp, and the way he stared at her, Sydney wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it. She fought to shake off the insane need that scalded her blood, but no such luck. Too bad. She wasn’t about to let him use her desire against her.

“I challenged you to a game of chicken, and you flinched. Now I know what you’re really about, you poacher. I won’t fall for your manufactured lust and let you steal my story.”

Caden stormed around her desk and towered over her. His gorgeous body put off heat like an oven, and a scent that made her melt into a puddle of lust. His mouth hovered bare inches above her own, and against her better judgment, Sydney trembled.

“Manufactured?” he growled. “What I feel is very real. If I was on top of you, plunged deep, while you were screaming my name, you’d know better.”

Her insides trembled, and she resisted the urge to fan herself. “Prove it.”

Caden cursed, something low and ugly. “I can’t. I want to. God, but it’s beyond complicated.”

Ah, the excuses. “I’m a smart girl. I think I can keep up.”

* * *

Caden swallowed. How much of the truth did he dare tell? Nothing about his quest for Anka, clearly, but the rest. . . . Honesty would be best—or Sydney would see right through him.

“Desire roils in my gut for you. I’ve never known anything like it. Sometimes, it’s all I can do to stay away.” His voice shook. He was hard as steel, but she wasn’t looking there. Instead, Caden realized he’d grabbed the arms of her chair, and his face hovered just above hers. She blinked. Her rosy lips parted. He gripped the plastic armrests until he thought they’d break. Damn it, the urge to kiss her nearly overpowered him.

When had he ever bared such personal feelings to a woman? The question rattled him because he knew the answer was never.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “C’mon, MacTavish. I handed you sex on a silver platter—twice—and you refused.”

It had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

Being this close to Sydney was revving up his libido. If he didn’t get some distance between them, he’d take her up on her offer here and now. God help her if he ever unleashed all this want on her.

He took a deep breath and a step back. “Not from lack of desire, but a sense of responsibility. We work together. My life now, with Lucan’s illness, is beyond complex. Once he recovers, I’ll be returning to Texas, so beginning anything with you—that would only be temporary and unfair.”

She frowned. “You’d hardly be my first fling. Or my last. I didn’t ask for commitment.”

Caden ground his jaw as he imagined another man’s hands on her. The more time he spent with her, the more homicidal that thought made him feel. “If I touched you, I would want more. Need it. That, I know.”

She sucked in a shocked breath. “What does this have to do with your behavior Saturday? It’s not as if you tried to follow me to my contact because you want to shag me.”

He looked down at his boots and weighed his answer. Again, he stuck as close to the truth as he dared. “No. I followed you because I worry about you.”

“Me? Not the contact?”

God, this woman was blazingly tenacious and determined to pry every bit of truth out of him she could. “I don’t want to see anyone hurt, but I’m most concerned about you.”

“Because I’m crossing town or talking to a woman who fears her own shadow?”

That ever-logical side that drew him to her also proved to make her a stubborn pain in his arse. “Not just a woman, a witch. You don’t know what she’s capable of or if Mathias is still after her. Or could pursue you, simply for writing this story.”

“Perhaps. But I won’t let that stand in the way of the truth.”

“I know,” he said honestly. If he knew one thing about Sydney, it was that her dedication was unquestionable. “Which is exactly why I didn’t say it sooner. I want to protect you. This may offend your feminist sensibilities, but it’s the soldier in me.”

Sydney sent him a skeptical glare, but it wasn’t untrue. While protecting her hadn’t been Caden’s primary motive, it had been on his mind.

She snorted. “I admit, you’re oozing macho.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d reject the need for a bodyguard.”

“Indeed. Let’s say I believe that you’re merely concerned about me because you have feelings for me that you think would be unfair to act on. What next?”

“Save my sanity, please. Let me protect you—at least a bit. Tell me what’s happening with the magical war story, so I can be prepared.”