“Your delightful mood means things aren’t going well, I take it?” Bram drawled.

“Not exactly. The woman is too smart by half and knows everything I say is shit.”

“You’re not being charming enough.”

Caden gritted his teeth. “Deception isn’t my style.”

“It’s charm. Do you need me to demonstrate?”

Though Bram was mated, the thought of him anywhere near Sydney made Caden feel uncomfortably homicidal. “The same charm you showed your now-missing mate?”

“Leave my mate out of this,” Bram snarled.

If you return the favor.

As soon as the words blazed across Caden’s mind, he sucked in a breath. Damn, he had to stop thinking about Sydney like that. He didn’t want a magical mate. And now he had to distract Bram. “Likewise, leave Sydney alone.”

“Are you having the urge to Call to this reporter?”

Every time he neared her, his temperature spiked. She was a fever, and if he kissed her, he feared he’d blurt the words that could bind them together. Not good signs.

Her proposition at lunch had boiled his blood. A hearty “yes” had hovered on the tip of his tongue. Yes, he wanted her naked. Yes, he wanted to taste every inch of her fair skin, possess that sweet body. Yes, he wanted all that intelligence and sass. Yes, he wanted to be the one to protect her. But giving in to his urges would spell disaster. Too bad no one had given his instincts the memo.

“Can we focus on the mission?” Caden unleashed his annoyance. “She knows I’ve scarcely said a true word to her since we met. She’s seeing her contact this afternoon, knew I was following her, and intentionally lost me. Now, she’s thinking of writing an article about the Doomsday Diary. What do you think will happen if she does?”

Bram cursed. “She’ll get a very unpleasant, firsthand look at magic, Mathias-style.”

“Exactly.” Caden gripped the phone, the thought too terrible to contemplate. He would protect Sydney at any cost, do anything to silence that story. Keep her safe. As much as it chafed him to ask for Bram’s help, he must.

“You need to step in,” he went on. “I’m compromised. Sydney knows I’m interested in the magical war story and that my seduction wasn’t real.”

“I can’t.” Suddenly, Bram sighed, sounding frustrated. “Another attack last night. Nearly everyone dead, two women missing. One transitioned just last week. Gossip and panic is beginning to spread around magickind about Mathias’s return. The Council elders have their thumbs up their arses, as usual. They want me to quell the rumors. I’m trying to be the voice of reason, but they don’t wish to hear logic. Duke and I are visiting Privileged households likely to be attacked and preaching caution, but . . . it’s frustrating to be forced to lie. I dare not leave the Council to their own devices for long. I’d insist on transcasting the truth to magickind, but I don’t have enough of the other Councilmen’s votes behind me. In the meantime, Marrok is ferociously training us for the war we all know is coming. If I sent Ice to help you, he would simply flatten Out of This Realm. Besides, magic isn’t a cure-all. I can’t just wave my wand and have Sydney forget about the book and her story ideas.”

Bram painted a bleak picture, and Caden nearly felt sorry for the bastard. What the hell good was magic? Oh, that’s right, none. He’d had proof enough of that early in life. Caden gripped the back of his neck and massaged at the tension gripping him. The damn tingles had returned. He was exhausted, yet his body craved sex. Lots of lovelies in the pub, several looking in his direction. But a glance south proved his cock was having none of them. It was fixated on Sydney. He sighed.

“You’re going to have to fix this,” Bram said. “Get closer to Sydney, however you must. Convince her with whatever necessary. Get that bloody diary out of her hands. Stop those stories. Nothing about the Doomsday Diary can appear in print.”

Caden sighed. How the devil was he to do all that?

“I’ll talk to her tonight,” he told Bram. “I’ll be waiting for her when she gets home. Until then, I should visit my brother for a bit.”

“I can’t spare any of the warriors to transport you, but I can send my sister.”

“Sabelle’s company is always a delight.”

Bram snorted. “Spoken like someone who does not have to live with the minx.”

They rang off, and Caden waited. Sure enough, within moments Sabelle walked into the pub. Every male head turned. Jaws dropped. One man even rose to his feet, looking as if he was in a trance. She held up a hand, and he wandered back to his stool instantly, looking a bit confused.

“Do you get that reaction from men everywhere you go?”

She shrugged. “It’s my grandmother’s siren blood, not me. I could be the ugliest hag in creation and they’d still respond that way.”

But she wasn’t. Far from it. Sabelle was truly stunning. Wars had been started over faces half so lovely. Centerfolds would kill for her body. The first time he’d seen her standing in the middle of his living room in Texas, explaining that his brother was suffering, he’d had to truly focus on her words, not his shock at her utter beauty.

But he’d quickly learned that she wasn’t just beautiful on the outside. Caden genuinely liked her. But he didn’t want her.

“If Bram hasn’t passed the message to you, thank you for helping Lucan.”

“I’ve known him all my life, Caden. He’s a dear friend. I’m not about to let him die senselessly.”

A brave soul. “Every other surrogate we’ve sent has been terrified.”

She shrugged. “I believe, deep down, he would recognize me before he did any serious harm.”

“Sabelle, he doesn’t know himself.”

With a nod, she conceded. “Yes, well . . . it hasn’t been going as well as I would like. The energy he’s derived from my fear simply isn’t enough. He expends it all thrashing and calling Anka’s name. Lucan needs more.”

“Meaning?”

“With the previous surrogates, he growled that he scented another man, then tried to attack them. I think I might have a solution. You’re welcome to observe.”

Something in the witch’s tone made him pause. “Perhaps we should discuss this.”

Sabelle shook her head, golden curls brushing her slender arms. “I need to do this my way.”

“I don’t want you risking your safety.”

She patted his arm. “I’m fine. Why don’t we meander outside and round the back? We’ll attract less attention when we teleport.”

Caden knew a firm change of subject when he heard one and gave up, for now. He nodded, and they made their way into the windy evening chill.

Once they were out of sight, Sabelle positioned them away from people, out of the light, wrapped her hand in his and poof! One minute he was standing in a dark alley, the next he fought a black, stomach-turning void. Bloody magic! Then he stood in Bram’s foyer. And the man himself was there waiting.

“Glad to see you’re here. I was getting worried,” he visually inspected his sister, clearly reassuring himself that no harm had come to her.

She sighed. “I’m eighty-four, not four. I’m perfectly capable of finding someone and bringing them here.”

“But not necessarily without avoiding trouble.”

Sabelle rolled her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have important things to do.” She clapped Caden on the shoulder. “Entertain him for a bit, will you? I’m worn out.”

With that parting shot, she disappeared.

Bram cast him a rueful glance. “I’ll trade you a brother in mate mourning for a mischievous sister.”

Caden almost laughed. “Thanks, but no. Honestly, I don’t want either problem.”

“I know.”

“You look exhausted.” Caden knew he shouldn’t ask, lest he find himself deeper in magical muck. But as much as he disliked some of Bram’s tactics, the wizard had taken his brother in, offered his home, his assistance, and now, his sister. “Any luck finding your mate?”

Bram winced, and the strain showed on the tired lines around his eyes and mouth. “No, it’s as if she’s vanished. I feel . . . nothing except her absence.”

“But she has not broken your bond?” The last thing he needed was for Bram to be in Lucan’s condition. Making his brother whole would be impossible.

“No, thank God. She is still mine, yet all my attempts to trace her lead nowhere.”

Odd, but then that was magic, difficult, baffling, and frustratingly cryptic. “Do you know anything about her? Where she lives, her phone number, relatives’ names?”

“As far as I can tell, everything she told me is a lie.” He scrubbed a hand over his tense expression. “I’m going to have to call one of those damn surrogates for energy. Mating is certainly effective; I don’t want any woman but her. Somehow—” Bram broke off with a shake of his head. “Never mind. I’ll work it out. Go see your brother.”

“If I haven’t said thanks already—” Caden choked out. He disliked being beholden to Bram, but the words needed saying.

“Don’t. Lucan is like family to me, as is Anka. I only hope we can bring them back together.”

Beginning to fear that was impossible, Caden turned to the giant staircase on his left. One step at a time, he trudged up, dread pulsing through him as he climbed to the top, then marched to the end of the hall where Lucan lay.

God, he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his hand to the knob of the closed door, wondering how his life had become hellish so quickly. What must Lucan’s be like?

Caden opened the door. Inside, the drapes were drawn, shutting out the weak twilight sun. The shadowed room smelled of sweat and rage and desperation. Lucan reeked of all three. He was a terrible, panting example of magic’s cruelty.

Bracing his forearm against the doorjamb, Caden hesitated. Though their sibling bond dictated that he care for Lucan, he didn’t want to walk in. When he’d been a boy himself, he’d helplessly watched Westin die. Laughing toddler one moment, corpse the next. A stab in the heart. The possibility of reliving the trauma of a sibling’s death terrified him.

A growl sounded from the bed, and Caden took a cautious step into the dark bedroom. There Lucan lay still and chained, naked except for a pair of white briefs. He stared in horror at his brother’s gaunt cheeks and pallid complexion. In the past days, his brother had deteriorated.

Swallowing his horror, Caden vowed that when he saw Sydney again, he’d focus on nothing but his mission. He must find Anka and make Lucan whole again.

An adjoining door opened to his right, and Sabelle exited the bathroom in a cloud of humid, perfumed air. She wore a simple white dressing gown, damp hair pinned to the top of her head, water droplets still clinging to her golden skin. Determination stamped her regal features and movements as she strode to a chair beside the bed. When she glanced Caden’s way and saw him staring at Lucan, regret softened her face.

“It’s not always this way.”

Her whisper was like a blade to his chest. She meant to be comforting, reassuring. Instead, her words only angered him more.

“Caden,” Sabelle tried again. “I believe his bond with Anka was true and deep. He’s hurting now, but he had over a century of joy with a woman he loved. Any of us should be half so lucky.”

“To be reduced to an animal? You would feel lucky to endure this?”

“Mate mourning for a woman works differently, so I can’t say for certain. Males undergo a period of intense . . . adjustment. A witch suddenly alone is often compelled to seek out another wizard for comfort, protection, and energy. She doesn’t remember her former mate, but there’s a sense of loss, and she pines. Just not in this way.” Sabelle gestured to his brother.

Meaning that Anka could be anywhere, her memory of Lucan completely gone, and shagging someone else. If the mate mourning didn’t finish Lucan off, that knowledge might.

Sabelle placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know this is unpleasant to you—”

“Horrific,” Caden corrected. “He—he’s a lunatic and he’s a burden to you. Will he ever again be himself?”

Regret tightened her mouth, shadowed her eyes. “His mate mourning is severe. We’re trying. Honestly. I’m—”

“Please don’t think I’m faulting you,” he said gently. “I don’t blame you or your brother in the least. I’m . . . frustrated. He’s gotten worse.”

“Until he takes energy, he cannot stabilize.”

Caden paced. “I feel helpless. I know I can’t do anything to help except find Anka. Without her, is there any end in sight other than his death?”

“One day at a time. You’re trying. We all are. Don’t discount Lucan. He’s strong. It’s not uncommon for a wizard’s mate mourning to end abruptly. Tomorrow, he could awaken perfectly fine.”

Or this condition could kill him. Caden snorted. “Magic could never be so kind.”

“Then give up on him.” She tossed her hands in the air. “But I won’t. Lucan is our friend. His death would kill my brother.”

She didn’t wait for a reply before she approached the bed and raised her hands to Lucan, lingering at one ankle, then the other. Then she made her way to the top corners of the bed, murmured a few words, and passed her fingers over each of Lucan’s hands.

Suddenly, the chains binding him loosened a bit, allowing him limited movement.

With a roar, Lucan thrashed about, eyes wild. The whites were gone, his pupils mere dots in a sea of tumultuous blue.

“Dear God, what are you doing?” He rushed forward to tighten Lucan’s restraints again.

Sabelle stayed him with a raised hand. “I’m serving him.”

Caden wished that didn’t mean what he feared. “Lucan could kill you. He nearly did the others because they weren’t Anka.”

“With the surrogates, he smelled other men on them. He assumed they were enemies, come to kill him. So he attacked. I’m attempting a new tactic. I’m completely clean and washed with Anka’s soap and shampoo, for good measure.”