A kiss, a touch, a whisper, whatever you most desire,

In the arms of your lover, pleasure will burn hotter than fire.

What? Aquarius believed this book could make sexual fantasies a reality? Sydney would love that, and she believed in magic, but this little unassuming book? In her hands?

Caden prowled close beside her, elbowing in for yet a closer look. He stared hard at the little journal, and she could smell that musky, woodsy scent of his that drove her mad.

“May I see that?” he demanded more than asked, reaching for the book.

“Certainly,” Sydney murmured, handing it over. The lowcut black jumper she’d worn yesterday had done nothing to snag his attention. This book? He was enraptured.

Aquarius sent her a secretive smile. “Syd, do you understand? It’s—”

“An old book,” Jamie hollered, edging in behind her.

“What good is that?”

“I appreciate each gift. Thank you, everyone,” Sydney said through clenched teeth. “I suspect we should get back to work now.” Maybe that would make Jamie shove off.

Around her, the small crowd began to file out. Unfortunately, Jamie lingered. Sydney, her assistant, and Caden, still studying the book, also occupied the dusk-shadowed room.

“If you want something special for your birthday, I’ll make time for you this weekend,” Jamie offered with a leer as he dropped a hand on her hip and slid it toward her backside.

Sydney eased away and opened her mouth to defer to the mountain of work on her desk when Caden grabbed Jamie’s wrist and squeezed—hard.

“Bloody hell!” He jerked away and glared at Caden.

Normally, such high-handed tactics would annoy Sydney. She was a grown woman and knew how to fend off male octopi like Jamie. But if Caden’s unexpected caveman impression put the lazy sod off until she found a more private moment to tell him to get lost, splendid. If Caden was just the slightest bit jealous, even better.

“What the devil?” Jamie cried. “Let go!”

“As soon as you do.” Caden tightened his grip.

Jamie released her immediately. “Ring me this weekend if you want company.”

As Caden watched Jamie’s retreating back, he scowled. The waves of his silent disapproval towered over Sydney like a tsunami. She bit her lip.

“Would you mind speaking to me in your office for a few minutes?” he said.

As always, the tone was polite. She wondered if he thought to warn her about the evils of Jamie. Like an overprotective brother lecturing his adolescent sister? Depressing thought. Did she have to jump on Caden while naked before he understood?

“Fine.” Might as well get it over with.

Caden raised a dark brow at her sharp tone and gestured to the door. “After you.”

“Wait!” Aquarius snatched the book from Caden and gave it to Sydney. “Your gift! I should tell you about it.”

Oh, the “magical diary.” She couldn’t leave without hurting Aquarius’s feelings. Her confrontation with Caden would have to wait.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

After a long glance at her, then the book, Caden nodded and slipped from the room.

Sydney dug her fingernails out of her palms, so frustrated she feared she would draw blood. Being a petite redhead, she didn’t have a centerfold’s breasts and wasn’t one of those model-like creatures men got all in a froth about. But Caden treated her almost asexually.

“You want him,” Aquarius whispered. It wasn’t a question.

“I couldn’t want him any more than if I’d shot myself with Cupid’s arrow.” She tossed her hands up in the air. “He doesn’t reciprocate.”

“You don’t know that,” Aquarius argued.

“Perhaps. He’s impossible to read. So bloody private.”

“I don’t think he’s as immune to you as you imagine.”

She shook her head glumly. “I’d love to believe that. No, I’d love to experience it.”

“You can.” Aquarius tapped the cover of the old book. “He can be yours for the night.”

Caden could have his pick of women. Besides being good-looking, intelligent, and polite, he had proven dependable thus far. He wasn’t lazy and seemed to truly listen. What woman wouldn’t want a total package? Yesterday’s snug shirt had outlined a positively yummy chest. And he was probably devastatingly good in bed—not that she’d ever know personally.

Or could she?

Sydney frowned. The idea tempted her. Could this journal possibly be magical? It sounded awfully fantastical—not that such a book existed, but that it had dropped into her lap. Supposing it had . . . would Caden truly be hers for the night after she jotted down a few ideas that involved scented massage oil, a big bed, and his naked body?

She cast a gentle glance at her assistant. “You believe this book is real?”

“It made one of my fantasies come true,” Aquarius blurted. “Remember Alex, that yummy neighbor I told you about? He asked me out when I wrote down exactly what I wanted.”

“Aquarius, he had an itch for you, so when his calendar opened up, he rang.”

“And read my mind?” Aquarius challenged. “Until last week, I never knew making love under a waterfall would be so . . . invigorating.”

“A waterfall? Where did you find—”

“I’ll never tell.” She smiled coyly.

“Let me get this straight: This hunky bloke suddenly appeared and whisked you away to fulfill your fantasy, exactly as you wrote it?”

Dreamy didn’t begin to describe Aquarius’s faraway expression. “It was fantastic.”

Sydney groped around for a chair. “Maybe you need a holiday. You’re past due.”

“I’m completely sane. Though I enjoyed Alex, he wasn’t right for me—”

“No man ever is.”

Aquarius frowned. “There’s a man out there. Somewhere. I’ll know when I meet him.”

Sydney had heard this before.

“Point is, I don’t need this journal.” Aquarius shoved it at to her. “But you . . .”

“But me . . . what?” Sydney fisted her hands on her hips.

“Well, if you want Caden, write your fantasy in here.”

The idea was tempting. With her luck, Caden would find the fantasy she’d written. Since she didn’t think he wanted her, mortified wouldn’t begin to cover how bad she’d want to crawl into a hole and wait for a new millennium.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Neither is pining away. Look,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “take the diary with you this weekend and write your deepest desire about Caden. Wait a day or two. If it doesn’t come true, what have you lost? When I return from holiday, I’m sure you’ll have loads to tell me.”

* * *

Caden marched into Sydney’s office and barely refrained from slamming the door. The fiery sun setting over the jagged London skyline matched his mood. The Doomsday Diary, here? In human hands? He must steal it from Sydney, remove her from danger. He needed a plan. Now.

But he was besieged by an equally strong urge to punch both Bram Rion and Jamie What’s-his-name.

Wanting to beat Bram to a pulp? Caden understood that well. Bram embodied so much of what he despised about magic: the blithe assumption of supremacy, unpredictability, the utter inability to compromise, and the total lack of awareness that it might be required. Magic’s inequality chafed as well. In a human world, anyone could learn to defend themselves and grow stronger each day—or buy a better weapon. In the magical world, a witch or wizard never had more power than they were born with, and if they found themselves at the mercy of someone more evil and powerful than themselves . . . God help them.

But Caden’s reaction to Jamie he didn’t understand. Nor could he grasp his own drive to possess Sydney so completely that she was unaware another male even existed. He’d done his best to ignore it, hide it, but she’d become a fever in his blood. The urge defied logic. He was on a mission. He was good at those, thanks to the U.S. Marine Corps. Focus. Get in, get out, get the job done, end of story. Don’t do anything stupid.

Falling in life-altering lust with Sydney, particularly now, fell into the stupid category. Yet he couldn’t stop. His assignment was to prevent Sydney from revealing more about magickind—a move that would protect her too—and discover if Anka was her source of information. Unfortunately, he was finding it difficult to focus on more than pushing the saucy reporter against a wall, kissing her senseless, then shagging her into sighing bliss.

Damn it all! He hadn’t been naďve enough to believe that his assignment at Out of This Realm would be easy, but he’d had little success tracking down Sydney’s source of information while stifling her stories. She was infuriatingly and admirably determined. Throw in the sudden and unexpected appearance of the Doomsday Diary? This had become what his platoon buddies called a cluster-fuck.

Cursing, he pulled his mobile phone from his belt and dialed an increasingly familiar number.

Bram answered immediately. “You have news?”

Did he ever, but first things first. “How is my brother?”

Bram hesitated. “Weak. We’re doing our best, but we’re running out of options.”

The wizard’s words were a stab in the chest. “Don’t you dare let him die while I’m in London doing your dirty work.”

“Believe me, if I had anyone else suited to this task, you would still be gnashing your teeth here at Lucan’s bedside. Matters are too critical for me to be there. Duke can pass as a human, but who would believe that the Duke of Hurstgrove wants a job at a tabloid? That leaves a fifteen-hundred-year-old warrior, an attitude-challenged wizard, and you. You alone have both experience in photography and the human world.”

“Your problem is mine only as long as my brother is alive. If he dies, I cease to care. Are you clear?”

“As if you’d drawn me a picture.” Bram shot back. “Believe me, as desperately as we need wizards for this fight, I’ll happily release you when I can. I want only those committed to the cause.”

Bram’s intimation that he wasn’t good enough annoyed Caden. He shrugged it off. What did he care if Bram didn’t see him as a member of the team he hadn’t wished to join?

He’d wanted nothing to do with magic since his younger brother’s death—by his own mother’s magic. An accident, yes. But he’d been just twelve when Westin, barely toddling, had been stricken.

Since leaving home at eighteen, he’d lived happily among humanity. Their ways seemed normal, comfortable. Being back among magickind now merely reminded Caden of all the reasons he loathed it. This gut-wrenching madness of Lucan’s merely underscored everything.

“Rion, do you honestly believe that you and a handful of wizards can defeat the most powerful magical creature in a millennium and his growing army?”

“Perhaps not, but we’ll certainly fail if we don’t try. Why do you care as long as Lucan stays alive?”

“He’d better.”

“I’m against this, but Sabelle insists on being his surrogate. Or attempting.”

Brilliant! Though Bram’s protective attitude was hardly a surprise. But Sabelle was a tough, courageous witch with the unusual ability to make others feel whatever she wanted with a touch. If anyone besides Anka could provide Lucan energy, it was Sabelle.

“Tell your sister I appreciate her more than she can know.”

“No guarantee it will work.”

It had to. “Thank her anyway.”

“All right, then. What news have you to report?”

“I’ve learned little about Sydney’s source of information. She’s guarding the name like a national secret.”

“Seduce her. Charm her.”

Bram’s suggestion made Caden grit his teeth. He didn’t have Bram’s easy way—and he was completely enthralled with the woman he was supposed to bamboozle. He wanted her more than his next breath—and was desperate to bury the feeling.

“Her secret is the least of our issues at the moment. I’m having a devil of a time stalling her next story. Before the bodies were removed from the tunnel, Sydney’s previous photographer took a few pictures. Grainy and fuzzy, which works in our favor, but we know of no one else who arrived in time to snap any, so she’s still scooped every other news source. People will pick up Out of This Realm in droves, I fear, if she prints it with a proposed story that these men comprise Mathias’s unwilling Anarki army, out to dissolve the Social Order and eradicate the Doomsday Brethren.”

Bram sounded ready to hit the ceiling. “She knows about us? Where is she getting this information?”

“I’d like to know that myself and have no clue. Unfortunately, it gets worse.”

“Worse?”

“Indeed. I found the Doomsday Diary. Sydney Blair acquired it fifteen minutes ago.”

Bram cursed a stream of loud, ugly words.

“On that, we’re agreed,” Caden supplied.

“You’re absolutely certain?”

“There can’t be many old red books bearing Morganna le Fay’s symbol.”

“Send me a picture.”

Bram didn’t trust him. Whatever.

“Bloody hell. Better yet, steal it from her.”

“She won’t let it loose soon. It was a birthday gift from a dear friend.”

“Who?” Bram snapped.

“Aquarius.”

“The astrological sign?”

“Sydney’s assistant,” Caden corrected. “Is she your mate?”

“That wasn’t the name—describe her. Perhaps my missing ‘wife’ uses aliases.”

“Short, almost fey looking. Brown wavy hair to her waist, green eyes—”

“Not even close. Which raises the question, if Sydney acquired the book from this woman who is definitely not my mate, how did she get her hands on it?”

“I was hoping you could shed some light.”

“None. Ask her. Maybe she’ll know how to locate my mate.” Frustration oozed from every syllable. “But we must recover that diary. Now.”

“I have good news and bad news about that. The bad news is that Sydney is a smart, tenacious reporter who’s determined to keep writing ‘fresh paranormal stories,’ in her words.”