Seduce Me in Shadow

by Seduce Me in Shadow (lit)

  “I’m glad you’re back. You can’t be truly happy in the States. You loved home so much when you were little.”

  Loved home? Caden remembered the wonderful summer days before Westin’s death. A lifetime ago, really. He hadn’t thought of those times in decades, romping with his father and younger brother in the fields, playing magical hero, his mother vowing that would be his future.

  How much everything had changed.

  “The States are home now.”

  “You’ll be going back, then?” Lucan scowled.

  Not until he was certain Lucan was okay and settled. Not until he found some way to protect Sydney from danger. “Eventually.”

  Lucan sighed. “I see you transitioned. Recently?”

  Caden nodded. “Last week. Terrible stuff.”

  Lucan took another long swallow. “You have a strong signature. Powerful magic. Have you used it yet?”

  “Not much.” Caden couldn’t meet Lucan’s eyes. His brother had chosen a magic life for himself, and Caden wondered if Lucan would understand his decision otherwise. “I’d rather not. Magic brings nothing but destruction and heartache—”

  “And days filled with endless possibilities. Westin’s death wasn’t your fault. Or Mum’s.”

  Caden looked at him with burning eyes. “Westin should never have died. I should have taken him elsewhere to play. Mum’s spell—”

  “In both the human and magical world, accidents happen.”

  “Magic killed him—and took Anka from you, through no fault of your own.”

  “No.” Looking down into the bottle, Lucan hesitated. “I hold the blame.”

  “What? Don’t assume Mathias’s guilt. You couldn’t be with Anka all day, every day. You did your best to protect—”

  “Not enough. Mathias took her and . . . I didn’t save her.”

  “Damn magic threw you into mate mourning. If not for that—”

  “Even if I hadn’t been in mate mourning, I still would have been out of my mind with worry. The truth is, I failed to consider that Mathias might make her a target when I joined the Doomsday Brethren. Now, I’m reaping what I’ve sown.”

  Caden wanted to reassure Lucan that he couldn’t have known, but the first rule of combat was to expect the unexpected.

  “I haven’t a clue what will happen,” Lucan went on. “I don’t want to give up on Anka, and the fact she hasn’t accepted Shock’s outstanding Mating Call gives me hope, but I nearly killed her. I didn’t protect her when I should have. How can she forgive me?”

  No doubt, Lucan still loved her. Profound sadness crept through Caden, and the tragedy wasn’t even his. “I’m sorry.”

  Lucan shrugged. “Who gave me energy while I was out of my mind?”

  “We hired surrogates. Do you remember?”

  “I remember women who smelled terrible. I remember being angry. I could see nothing, hear very little, but smell guided me. Then I remember a woman who smelled much like Anka . . . at first. The last time she came to me, I scented Sabelle.” Lucan winced. “Tell me I didn’t use my best friend’s sister.”

  “I’m sorry.” Caden could only apologize. Lying would do no good.

  Lucan cursed. “I owe her an apology for my rough behavior, I’m certain. And a great deal of gratitude. She’s an amazing woman.”

  Caden couldn’t argue that. “Indeed.”

  A long silence followed, and Caden reached for his own bottle, swallowing the sting of the alcohol, letting it burn a path from his throat to his stomach.

  “Let’s talk of something more pleasant,” Lucan suggested. “Tell me about the saucy redhead who left with Bram and the others.”

  Caden tensed. “Sydney Blair. She’s a reporter for a human tabloid.”

  “She has feelings for you.”

  Damn, Lucan had always been perceptive. Caden nodded.

  “You have feelings for her, as well. You’ve adopted a bit of her color in your signature. Despite the fact you haven’t spoken the Call, she’s your mate.”

  Too perceptive. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Would she refuse you?”

  “Can we change the subject?”

  “Talking about your problems gets my mind off my own.” Lucan grabbed the whiskey off the nearby table and took another swig with a lopsided grin. He’d had just enough alcohol to numb his pain and enough mischief to exploit Caden’s pity. Sod. “Would she say no?”

  “She’d accept.”

  “You haven’t mated with her because . . . you want a witch?”

  Caden snorted. Lucan must know better than that. “Of course not.”

  “You don’t love her?”

  “I do.”

  Lucan stroked his chin as if perplexed. “She’s against magic?”

  “Quite the opposite. She persuaded Bram to allow her to transcast news of Mathias’s return.”

  “The Council agreed?” Lucan looked genuinely shocked.

  “No. Bram finally agreed that distributing the information without their blessing was best.”

  “There will be hell to pay. Good for him, doing the right thing. Sydney wants to help, then? That’s why she’s transcasting, despite the danger?”

  “Yes.” Caden sighed, knowing where Lucan’s line of questioning was headed. Might as well beat him to the destination. “And that is precisely why I haven’t spoken the Call. The more she involves herself in magickind, the higher up Mathias moves her name on his hit list.”

  “You don’t want to lose her the way you lost Westin. Or the way I lost Anka.”

  Either would devastate Caden. “Something like that.”

  Lucan slammed his bottle down on the table and lunged in Caden’s face, bracing his fists against the back of the sofa, effectively pinning Caden there. “You stupid fuck! You have a woman who loves you and would accept your mating call. Yet you’re willing to flush it down the toilet to avoid possible pain.” He scoffed and backed away. “You have no idea—”

  “I do!” Caden shoved Lucan aside and jumped to his feet, anger roiling through his body. “You weren’t there when Westin died. I was!”

  Lucan sighed. “An accident.”

  “That doesn’t make him any less dead. And then you—I saw you chained to a bed for weeks. I watched you with Sabelle.” Lucan winced, but Caden pressed on. “You nearly killed her for trying to save you. For as long as Anka stays in Shock’s bed, there will be an infinitely deep hole in your heart. Why the hell would I sign up for that?”

  “Because I wouldn’t trade a moment of what Anka and I had together. For any reason. It’s my own bloody fault for not protecting her, but I adore her. Love her. I’d never known true happiness until I mated with her. Would I give up all that bliss because I’m hurting now? Never. You have the advantage, idiot. I didn’t find Anka until I was nearly three hundred. You’re only thirty. You and Sydney could have hundreds of years to enjoy each other.”

  “Or she could goddamn die tomorrow.” Caden shouted. “She constantly puts herself in danger. I do everything in my power to keep her safe, but she doesn’t want my protection. She’d rather make a difference for magickind. How can I protect her against a monster like Mathias? Magically, I’m no match for him. Knowing my mate was in his clutches would kill me.”

  “I’m living proof that it won’t. You don’t want the pain or the mourning that goes with losing a mate, so you’re going to toss her away now? Bloody stupid.” Suddenly, Lucan growled and lifted him by his shirt. “Love rarely comes more than once in a lifetime. If you piss her away, be prepared for centuries of emptiness. And without your longer lifespan, you’ll see her grow old and turn to dust so quickly your head will spin. Then you’ll stand alone, a young wizard on the outside, an old, withering man on the inside, wishing for just ten minutes with your one true love. And she will be gone. I’ll be standing there to say I told you so. Because ten minutes with your beloved is better than a lifetime without her.”

  Like needles piercing her skin, her soul, Sydney felt
the pain of Caden’s departure. Inside, she ached—even while she wanted to throw half of Bram’s priceless knickknacks against his pristine wall. And yet . . . after the up-close view of what Lucan had become and hearing of Westin’s heartbreaking death, Sydney couldn’t really blame Caden.

  She wanted to be furious. Mostly, she was sad.

  Maybe if she found some way to end this war sooner, take Mathias down now. . . . If the evil wizard’s threat against her ended, she and Caden could deal with the rest of their issues one by one. Likely, it would take time, but as long as they ended up together, she could learn patience.

  Evening lengthened into night, then into early morning, and still Sydney paced her room, turning over ideas, rejecting them, starting over. After hours of filtering through ideas, two remained. First, she had to find that magical book and discern once and for all if the feelings they shared had originated from the book. If so, she had to undo the magic. And let the chips fall.

  Second, she had to help magickind in a larger way. Transcasting Mathias’s return was a start. Bram hadn’t let her give details about the attacks—yet. But if magickind knew what Mathias had done, what he planned to do, and got angry at the horrific violence Mathias was inflicting, magickind might band together. If so, Mathias didn’t stand a chance. But they needed an advantage.

  One sat languishing behind bars downstairs.

  Sydney glanced at the clock. Nearly three in the morning. No time like the present.

  Down the dark stairs she traveled, creeping into Bram’s office. In a secret compartment behind the sofa, she located the book. After they’d returned from attacking Mathias’s warehouse, Bram had disclosed his hiding place to all the females in the house . . . just in case.

  Extracting the little book, she lit a small desktop lamp and spread the pages open with a pen. Quickly, she leafed through the book, looking for her previous two entries. She couldn’t find the first. Or the second. What the hell? Blasted book made no sense. Then again, it was magic.

  With a sigh, Sydney stared at the blank pages. What to write?

  Within a few minutes she crafted another message to her “Magical Diary,” wishing that she hated Caden and he loathed her as well. They would give each other coal for Christmas, dead roses for Valentine’s Day, and snarl like pit bulls every day in between. Then she stared at the page, waiting for the diary’s inevitable message.

  To wish for enmity, you are too late.

  This fantasy cannot be your fate.

  Because true love has claimed your

  hearts, you two are sworn never to part.

  True love? A smile burst across her face. Hearing that her fantasies hadn’t incited false feelings was a huge relief—and made her all the more impatient to get on with task number two. The sooner she found a way to rally magickind around Bram, the sooner she and Caden could work through their differences. That meant trying to talk information out of Zain.

  Though he was likely to be a hostile interview subject and it was the middle of the night, she wasn’t waiting. Who knew whether Mathias could do extra damage to magickind while she waited for a more polite hour? Zain was behind bars, had no wand, and Bram had explained that only his houseguests could teleport in and out. The dungeon dampened magical ability, too. She’d be safe long enough to ask a few questions.

  But how? Snark wouldn’t serve her. Zain’s T-shirts suggested he would snark back, which would be counterproductive. She’d be better served using their previous work connection and playing the stupid human card.

  Sydney grabbed Bram’s little video camera and made her way through the dark house, down to where Bram kept Zain locked away.

  She eased the door open. It was pitch black inside. No windows, no lights. The room smelled like damp stones and despair. She shivered.

  “Why are you here, Sydney?” Zain rasped out. He sounded weak.

  “How did you—”

  “Your scent.”

  She didn’t think taking a shower would fix that. “Where’s a light?”

  “There isn’t one.” He barely got the words out.

  Sydney recoiled. “I’ll return.”

  Trudging upstairs, she wondered why there was no light in the dungeon. Even during the day, with the room underground and no windows, the room would remain black as midnight. A magical form of torture? Either way, she couldn’t find the buttons to start the video camera without a bit of light.

  In the library, she found a candle. She had to search harder for a match. Probably not a necessary item in a magical household, but her handbag still had a book of matches from the pub near her house.

  Lighting and clutching the candle, she descended the stairs again and pushed open the door. Setting the candle on a nearby table, she turned on the video camera. Its light burst into every corner as she stepped into the middle of the room.

  “What the devil?” Zain shielded his face with his hand, his longish hair wild.

  “Sorry. I’d hoped to interview you.”

  “I don’t want to talk.” He sighed. “I’m exhausted. I need more time with the surrogate. I’m still weak after healing your friend. Bram allowed me very little energy.”

  Perhaps he was faking it, but he looked like death warmed over. Pale and gaunt, several days’ growth shadowed his jawline, nearly overwhelming his face. His clothing was dirty. Of course, he deserved every bit of it for what he’d done to Aquarius.

  “If you talk to me, I’ll talk to him.”

  Zain frowned. “Why should I trust you?”

  “What have I done to earn your distrust? I’m just trying to understand what’s happening. Caden wants nothing to do with magic and won’t talk about it. Bram is too busy. The others . . . well, you know far more than I.”

  Zain leaned against the bars. “Of course I do.”

  The stroke to his ego. She bit her lip, putting on her best earnest face. “Help me. I am a reporter at heart. Even if this story will never see daylight, I want to understand . . . when you first came to work for Out of This Realm, you said you had a mysterious someone who left you information. That wasn’t true, was it? Did Mathias tell you? Or did you just know?”

  “I knew. I know most everything Mathias does or plans.”

  “I thought as much. I’ve heard Bram’s side of this war, but I want to understand Mathias’s. I’m intrigued by his struggle for equality. It sounds so . . . utopian. But I allowed myself to be swayed by Anka’s story of rape and Bram’s tales of Privileged attacks without checking the other side of the story. It wasn’t professional of me. What is Mathias’s side to those stories?”

  Zain drew in a ragged breath. “Everyone has enemies, some willing to exaggerate the truth.”

  “That’s true, but I saw Anka after Mathias released her. Did he break her bond with Lucan, then force her to his bed?”

  “That was her view of events. Mathias’s version of the story is much less melodramatic.”

  Doubtful, but she had to keep him talking, find proof for magickind that Mathias was up to something terrible so they would rally behind Bram and the Doomsday Brethren.

  “Right, then. What are Mathias’s plans to help the Deprived overcome their oppression?”

  Zain moaned. “Come closer. I can’t hear you.”

  Sydney bit her lip. Was he lying? Perhaps, but so far he was doing nothing more menacing than begging. He had no wand, no energy, could barely keep his eyes open. How could he be a threat?

  “What are Mathias’s plans?” she repeated.

  “Closer,” he pleaded. “Please. Give me your hand. I need a bit of your energy.”

  She stilled. “You can get it from a simple touch?”

  “Some.”

  His request disturbed her. She didn’t trust him to touch her. “Answer me first. What does Mathias plan?”

  “To eradicate inequality, of course.”

  “How? How will obtaining the Doomsday Diary help him do that? Will he simply write that as a wish?”

  “What else woul
d he do?”

  “I don’t know. You’re familiar with him. All I’ve heard are the . . . rumors.”

  “They’re crap!”

  Sydney was tired of Zain’s coy answers. She had to break him out of this mode. “Are they? I understand the opposition telling lies and whatnot, but if you’re anything to go by . . . What you did to my friend Aquarius was unforgivable. You threatened to kill me!”

  The more she thought about it, the more angry she became.