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 a.s.sistant 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 pa.s.sion 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 h.e.l.l 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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, antic.i.p.ate . . .

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 h.e.l.l," Bram offered.

No s.h.i.t. 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 h.e.l.l 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 sungla.s.ses, Shock stood with arms crossed over his leather-clad chest, wearing an unapologetic f.u.c.k-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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 a.r.s.e, Rion. Think."

"Right now, I simply can't. Your boss is making my life h.e.l.l 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 ill.u.s.trate 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 b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l 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 G.o.d 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 f.u.c.k 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 d.a.m.n 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 sungla.s.ses, Caden discerned horror and anger-and bloodl.u.s.t.

He whirled on Bram. "How is this f.u.c.king 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 b.l.o.o.d.y head games. Don't you know that he became the most feared wizard of our time because he's d.a.m.ned devious? He's suspicious and keeps many secrets. Do you have any leads on Anka's whereabouts? Can Lucan help?" 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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. p.r.i.c.k. "I'm looking. She belongs to my brother, and I will-"

"p.i.s.s 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 att.i.tudes 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 a.s.sumed 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?" d.a.m.n it all. Caden really hated this b.a.s.t.a.r.d. 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?"