Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Marrok crosses his enormous arms across his chest. “Then why did you not warn us that Mathias had killed my mate’s father and begun masquerading as Gray so he could lure her to bring him the diary? Or that he planned to attack us in the tunnel?”
“Or have any bloody clue what had happened to Anka or where she is now?” I challenge.
Shock curses. “Mathias is well aware that I’ve never backed others with his views, so he’s leery of my support. Trust will take time to build. I’m making progress. Be patient.”
Do I believe him?
The others seem to be wondering the same thing, whether Shock is being honest or twisting the situation to earn their trust so he can betray them later. A quick glance around proves the warriors are somewhere between considering to close minded.
“Let’s pretend for a moment that any of us believe you,” Bram says. “The first thing I would say is—”
“Pretend you believe? Piss off. The lot of you!” He pins Bram with a narrow-eyed glare. “In case you’ve forgotten, you asked me to join the Doomsday Brethren. I don’t need you, your bloody band of misfits, or your distrust. I’ll bring Mathias down on my own.”
Shock charges toward the door. Marrok blocks it.
“Out of my way, human.”
The Arthurian warrior levels him with a stare that would make a normal man shiver. “I will let you pass when Bram tells me you can. Not before.”
“I can zap the life out of you,” he sneers.
Marrok draws his broadsword. “Not before I sever your head from your body.”
“Gentlemen,” Bram placates. “Enough. As you always say, Marrok, we cannot defeat Mathias if we are too busy fighting one another. Because I have no better option and you know it, we will believe your ‘plan,’ Shock. For now. I want regular reports, and they’d best be useful. Provide me ideas about the means necessary to defeat Mathias, information like the size of his army and any vulnerabilities. And do it quickly. If you do, we’ll get on just fine. Betray me, and I will find you, then kill you slowly and without mercy.”
I smile. “And I’ll be happy to help.”
Chapter
Seventeen
Sydney
When Monday morning arrives, so does Caden. At nine sharp, he sticks his head inside my office. “Morning.”
His voice sounds lower and rougher, somehow more shiver-worthy than usual. Even before I drag my stare from my computer screen, my pulse leaps. My blood heats. My nipples spring to attention.
Why does he do this to me?
When I glance up, our eyes meet. The connection is instantaneous and has the impact of a body blow. I’m stunned. I’m breathless.
Caden stares back as if he can’t tear his gaze from mine.
The silence between us turns thick and dark and undeniable.
Two minutes ago, all I wanted was coffee and a clean email inbox. Now I’m swamped with a desire so overwhelming, nothing else matters. My head spins.
“Morning,” I whisper.
That should be the end of our conversation. I have to stop mooning over him like an adolescent crushing on the lead singer of a boy band and focus on my mountain of work.
Instead, I can’t quit staring.
Naturally, Caden looks fit and fuckable in charcoal slacks with a crisp white collar and a burgundy jumper that accentuates his outdoorsman’s coloring and makes his blue eyes pop. But that’s where his “usual” ends.
The untamed waves of his hair look as if he’s raked his fingers through it repeatedly. And his wide, savage eyes… I’ve never seen him so agitated, like a wild bull about to charge. Energy pings off him, as if he’s a heartbeat from shedding all hint of civility and unleashing his shockingly feral side on me.
Every cell in my body screams yes!
No. The man is trying to steal from me. No matter how gorgeous he looks, no matter that I feel him on a chemical, visceral level, wanting someone to use me is both stupid and self-destructive. I’m smarter than that.
Right?
“What do you want?” I jerk my gaze to my computer screen, pretending interest in my emails.
“We should talk.”
His words seem like a suggestion. His seething growl tells me it’s a demand. That voice jacks up my libido and does something to my girl parts I really wish it didn’t.
Is he vexed about the weekend? Likely so, but I’m not apologizing. If Caden thought I’d be a pushover, he’s sadly mistaken. And if he’s attracted to doormats… Well, we won’t get on very well.
Besides, I suspect he’s only here this morning to try swindling the magickind story from me. Again. I sigh.
“What is it, MacTavish? Angry that I lost you at the pub?”
He shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I have since Saturday, but not in the office.”
This again? “We said everything we needed to over the weekend.”
“We didn’t,” he insists through gritted teeth. “I came to see you last night.”