Initial impressions be damned. Sabelle had just earned herself a new friend.
Ice huffed, then groused, “I need a conduit. I can create objects of ice, but transferring it to something living is beyond me.”
“I can try,” Sabelle assured, her hands dropping from his biceps.
“How?”
The blond witch licked her lips. “I’m part siren. I can often influence people’s feelings by touching them. If you can pass the feeling onto me . . .”
Part siren? There was such a thing? And they could change other’s feelings? Wow, the material she’d have to put in her next article.
Ice retreated. “Your brother will object.”
“Bram can’t always have his way.”
He clenched his jaw. “Sabelle, I have to touch you to use you as a conduit.”
She drew in a shaky breath, clearly nervous. And excited. She stared at Ice as if he was the forbidden fruit. “Touch me how?”
Desire leapt in his gaze again. “As much as you’ll let me. The more contact, the more successful I’m likely to be.”
The witch paused.
“Worried my insanity is contagious, princess?” Ice challenged with a dark raised brow.
“No,” Sabelle snapped, then glanced at Aquarius, who labored for each breath. The witch bit her lip. Something about Sabelle’s demeanor told Sydney that her reticence wasn’t about Ice’s intimidating demeanor, but the sexual vibes floating between them.
“I’ll do it.” Sabelle said in a voice that cracked and wobbled.
“Relax and trust me. You can’t be afraid, no matter what.”
Sabelle gave a shaky nod. Sydney suspected that Ice’s request was easier said than done. Either way, she wished they’d hurry. Aquarius’s clock was ticking down.
“Do we need anything else?” the blond witch asked.
“Just put your hands on her and concentrate. Whatever happens, don’t move away from me.”
The gorgeous witch positioned herself at the side of the bed, arms out so that her hands rested on Aquarius’s torso. She drew in a deep breath, as if bracing herself.
Ice moved in behind her, stopping a mere breath away.
“Ready?”
She nodded, but her body tensed. And no wonder, the sexual tension between them was thick and undeniable.
Closing the last bit between them, Ice wrapped his arms around Sabelle’s middle, just beneath her breasts. His legs shadowed hers, thighs to thighs, shins to calves, his feet braced around hers. The woman’s breath caught when Ice dropped his head, resting his cheek against her neck. His breath fanned the little tendrils of hair at her nape. Some of the hair artlessly piled on her head slipped free of its clip, caressing Ice, and she leaned back into him.
Neither moved, yet their bodies seemed to meld together.
“I’m going to blast you with cold, like an inanimate object. Try to pass it through you to her.”
Like some sort of energy transfer? It didn’t escape Sydney that if Aquarius were awake, she would embrace this holistic energy healing bit and give it two thumbs up on the karma scale. But Sydney herself held her breath, willing this to work.
Sabelle closed her eyes. A moment later, she stiffened, gasped. Then she tried to jerk away from Ice.
“No,” he growled. “Stay with me. Pass it through. See where she needs cooling and give it to her.”
With chattering teeth, Sabelle tried to nod. Her hands turned white, then blue. Sydney frowned. The chill seemed to be coating Sabelle outside, but not reaching inside her so she could transfer it to Aquarius.
“Please,” Sydney cajoled. “Can you . . .” But she didn’t know what to tell Sabelle to do.
Olivia rushed back into the room and gave her hand a supportive squeeze.
Ice wrapped his arms around Sabelle tighter, touching his lips against her ear. “Take it in, princess. Send it through.”
Sabelle squinted, trying to focus inward, judging from her expression. Ice gripped one hip, pressing himself closer until there wasn’t a breath of air between them. The other hand he splayed across the flat of her stomach, fingers stretched from just beneath her breasts, all the way to her navel. Sabelle’s head fell against his shoulder, eyes closed.
“Feel me?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she gasped raggedly. Within seconds, color pinkened Sabelle’s skin and flushed her cheeks.
But Aquarius looked unchanged.
“What the devil?” Sydney perched on the other side of the bed, close to Aquarius. Another look at Sabelle’s face shocked her. Face dreamy, lips parted, head tilted back against Ice’s shoulder, she looked . . . aroused.
“Fuck!” Ice jumped away from her suddenly, as if scalded. “You sent me a blast of heat.”
“I-I don’t know why.” Sabelle glanced away, but Sydney could see her eyes. They looked unfocused, dilated—and guilty.
She was aroused and didn’t want to admit it. Understanding dawned on Ice’s face. As it did, his expression said that he was mustering all his self-control to resist getting naked with her.
Grabbing her elbow, Ice turned her toward him, and with a finger, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Princess, talk to me.”
“Leave it be.” She tried to jerk away.
He held tighter. “Not until you explain what just happened.”
Ice knew that Sabelle’s arousal had melted his chill, but he wanted to hear her say it. And it frustrated the hell out of Sydney. Aquarius would not live if they didn’t think of something fast.
“It didn’t work. That’s all.” Sabelle turned back to Sydney, all traces of sensuality gone from her expression.
“That’s not all,” Ice challenged. “I felt more.”
Sabelle said nothing for a long moment, then whispered, “You know it’s impossible.” Her expression turned contrite.
“I’m sorry.”
With that, the witch all but ran out of the room, Ice looking after her with a need so stark, it was painful. Olivia’s gaping mouth told Sydney that she wasn’t the only one flabbergasted by what had just happened.
Nor did she think Ice would simply let Sabelle run from him now that he knew the attraction was mutual.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MINUTE ICE RETURNED to the room, Bram began pacing in front of his ornate desk, looking at each man. Caden felt the gravity—and disapproval—of that stare. He bristled. Admittedly, if Caden had still been a Marine, and Bram his superior officer, he would have deserved an ass chewing.
But he had his own problems—his transition, Sydney’s attack, Lucan’s illness. He wanted to shout that he owed Bram nothing. But the situation was no longer that simple. The man’s sister was keeping his brother alive at great personal expense.
He also couldn’t deny that, without Bram, Zain likely would have killed Sydney. Caden knew little magic—and preferred it that way. Knowing it would be unnecessary once he returned to Texas, but today . . . leaving wasn’t an option. Because there was no mistaking the fact Sydney’s fate had changed utterly. As long as the Anarki believed she had the diary, true or not, they’d hunt her relentlessly.
Then there was the fact that Anka was alone and unprotected, with little idea where she belonged. As much as Caden despised it, he needed Bram’s help now more than ever to find her so they could right Lucan’s life.
“Today, many things changed. Caden transitioned. The Anarki began hotly pursuing the book once more. We have a prisoner. Again.”
“Unlike last time, we won’t let him escape,” Ice growled.
Shock ground his teeth and set his jaw, but nodded. “As long as he’s here, I should keep a low profile. If he gets free, he may convince Mathias that I’m on your side.”
“Agreed. Caden, tell the others what you learned about the book when you tried to steal it.”
Quickly, he explained his failed attempts to steal the book from Sydney, stressing the fact it literally disappeared from his hands when he left her flat.
&
nbsp; “This underscores what we’ve suspected about the Doomsday Diary: It can only be ‘owned’ by females. Several of us have tried to write in it. Nothing. So it cannot be utilized by a man, either. Which begs the question, does Mathias know this little twist?”
“How? That cursed book has scarcely left my sight in fifteen hundred years, and I knew this not until today,” Marrok said.
“True. But we don’t know if Mathias has other means.” Bram turned to Shock. “Does he?”
Every eye in the room turned to stare at their supposed double agent.
“Can’t say for certain.” He shrugged leather-clad shoulders.
Nice and vague. Naturally. Why would Shock tell the Doomsday Brethren anything useful?
“We’ll work on him. Discern what he knows. Perhaps talk to Zain, as long as he’s going to be gracing us with his presence below.”
Shock nodded. “Zain’s capture will hurt the Anarki. Physically, Mathias is still weak from Olivia’s blast in the tunnel a few weeks past. He’s recovering, mind you, but slowly. Zain has been elevated to acting head fiend, so his absence will be felt.”
Ice clenched his fists. “I wish they could feel me blasting them all to hell.”
“Me, too,” Bram chimed in. “Crippling their operation is a start, but—”
“He’s not as crippled as you think,” Shock advised. “He’s ramping up the Anarki. The ranks of half-dead are swelling enormously. I don’t know how. His followers are abducting soldiers from all over the world and converting them very quickly. More arrive, angry and belligerent, each day. It isn’t long before their souls are gone and they’re sporting robes.”
“Why soldiers?” Caden asked.
“Think, you sod. Well trained.”
Caden let the insult slide. He was too infuriated about Mathias forcing servicemen into his ranks to respond to Shock’s petty shit.
“How many, a few dozen?” Bram asked.
“A few hundred. At least. The speed of the conversions defies logic.”
“Each one usually takes days, perhaps weeks.” Bram’s blue eyes threatened to bulge.
“I’ve overheard Mathias talking about an object he recently acquired. I’ve offered to help Zain and the others for appearance’s sake.” He shrugged. “They haven’t taken me up on it yet.”
“Mathias isn’t converting them?” Bram sounded surprised.
“Too weak.”
“Ah. I thought surely he’d be up for some mass torture. He so enjoys others’ pain. Nice to know we’ve deprived him of his fun. Does he stay abed, then?”
“Yes. He is draining women of their energy daily. I can hear their screams.” Shock blanched, swallowed.
How could any normal man stand to listen to a woman being brutalized? Then again, Shock wasn’t normal. Did those events truly disturb him?
“I hate it, but if I blow my cover many will die,” Shock added somberly.
Caden fisted his hands, hating the bastard more every minute. But he was right.
Bram paced, his thoughts clearly racing. “This can’t go on. The Council isn’t willing to admit that Mathias has returned. Against my best advice, I’ve been ordered to quell the rumors and I’ve had some success. But clearly, no one except us will help magickind. It’s imperative we devise a game plan to defeat Mathias that bloody works.”
“Now that Zain has been captured,” said Shock, “the Anarki will be in disarray, even with the new army, if Mathias isn’t strong enough to lead them. I can give you all you need to stage an attack on his secret location.”
Or all he needed to lead the Doomsday Brethren into a trap.
“If he’s weak, and the ranks are in chaos, perhaps the time is right.” Bram regarded the others. “Duke? Marrok? Ice?”
Duke crossed his arms over his chest, and despite recently having battled a dozen men, he still looked surprisingly GQ. “We’ll need to train a bit more. But the idea sounds reasonable.”
“Aye,” Marrok added. “The strategy must be sound. I want nothing left to chance.”
Ice merely gave a humorless laugh. “I’m always in favor of kicking Anarki arse.”
“What if he’s leading us into a trap?” Caden couldn’t keep his suspicion silent. Bram didn’t want dissension. But good God, could they not see the obvious?
The men cast measuring glances at Shock. He stood tall, arms crossed, legs akimbo.
“Think what you want. Ignore me if you like.” He shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”
“A calculated risk I think we must take,” Bram replied.
Caden tried not to let his jaw hit the ground. “What about Anka? We can’t just leave her alone and afraid, by herself.”
“What do you mean?” Shock growled and he grabbed Caden by the arms and shook him.
Caden jerked free, fighting the urge to plow a fist in the man’s jaw. “Don’t bloody touch me!”
“He means,” Duke added, “that we discovered Anka had been staying with her cousin Aquarius all these weeks and apparently left a few hours ago of her own free will.”
Relief swept across Shock’s face. “She’s alive?”
“And belongs with my brother,” Caden pointed out.
Shock sent him a tight smile. “Not necessarily.”
“Stop bickering!” Bram demanded. “Caden, you, Duke and Ice go out now and search for Anka. Marrok, Shock and I will stay behind to formulate an attack plan. We’ll advise you when it’s ready.”
Exhaustion wound like molten lead through Caden’s veins, weighing him down. The adrenaline from the battle was wearing off, and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a week, preferably with Sydney wrapped around him. But Anka needed him.
Suddenly, Bram turned to him. “Now that you’ve transitioned, your magic will be helpful to the cause. You’ll need a wand. Normally, your family would—”
“No one in my family is in any position to give me one.” Thank God.
“I’ll do it,” Bram offered. “Give me an hour or two and I’ll present it to you.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Caden owed Bram, especially now that he’d lent more warriors to the search. He’d even offered to perform this sacred family ritual with him. But Caden wanted as little involvement with magic as possible. Besides, taking a wand from Bram made his position in both magickind and the Doomsday Brethren feel permanent.
“I don’t need or want a wand. I still prefer to be a man, not a wizard.”
“But you are a wizard.”
“Only if I choose to exercise my powers. And I don’t.”
Hours later, Caden woke slowly to an unfamiliar room and an unfamiliar bed, the effects of last night’s exhaustion slowly fading. A familiar warmth lay beside him. Sydney. It was reckless, but he snuggled up to her. After spending fruitless hours looking for Anka, he’d returned to Bram’s after midnight, fatigued to the core, and found her cozy in a big bed. Wanting her warmth, to reassure himself of her safety, he’d joined her. In the past, he’d talked to Sydney, argued with her, touched her, worried about her. But he really hadn’t had the opportunity to simply lie with her and hold her in his arms. Right away, he knew he’d missed something special.
Soft, warm, quiet—at least for her. Burying his face in her hair, he smiled . . . until the noises below woke him. Men’s voices. A shout—Bram. The slamming of a door. Then outside the clank of metal on metal, the report of firearms. Marrok was training the others. He frowned.
A moment later, Duke popped his head in the door and said, “Everyone is outside. Well, everyone but Shock.”
Typical. The elder Denzell brother claimed to be a double agent, but why would Shock turn against his family, allow his own brother to be captured, and battle the rest of his class to defeat the man who supposedly wanted to uplift them? As far as Caden could see, unless Shock had a hidden altruistic streak his “loyalty” to Bram made no bloody sense.
Briefly, Caden pondered staying beside Sydney. More than once, he’d wanted to tell Bram to shove his
request for training. But they’d struck a deal when he first arrived: His help in exchange for theirs in finding Anka.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said, then glanced regretfully at Sydney.
He owed her answers—loads of them. Inadvertently, he’d plucked her from her ordinary world and plopped her down in the middle of a war zone. And given that Mathias’s minions knew exactly where she lived, she couldn’t go back now. Until the threat ended, he’d do whatever necessary to keep her out of harm’s way.
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