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)
“Unlike last time, we won’t let him escape,” Ice growls.
Shock grinds his teeth and sets his jaw, but nods. “If you’re keeping him here, I’ll need a low profile. If he springs free like a canary from its cage, he’ll bloody sing and 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, I explain my failed attempts to remove the book from Sydney’s flat, stressing the fact it literally disappeared from my hands when I crossed the threshold.
“This underscores what we’ve suspected: the Doomsday Diary can only be ‘owned’ by females. Several of us have tried to write in it. Nothing. So it cannot be utilized by a male. Which begs the question, does Mathias know this little twist?”
“’Tis impossible. That cursed book scarcely left my sight in fifteen hundred years, and I knew naught of this until now,” Marrok points out.
“But we don’t know if Mathias has other means.” Bram turns to Shock. “Does he?”
Every eye in the room turns to stare at our supposed double agent.
“How the bloody hell should I know?” He shrugs leather-clad shoulders.
Vague. Naturally. Why would Shock tell the Doomsday Brethren anything useful?
“Work on him. Discern what he knows. Perhaps we’ll chat with Zain, since he’ll be enjoying my hospitality indefinitely.”
Shock nods. “Zain’s capture will be a blow to 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 clenches his fists. “I wish they could feel me blasting them all to hell.”
“Me, too,” Bram chimes in. “Crippling their operation is a start, but—”
“He’s not as crippled as you might hope,” Shock advises. “He’s ramping up the Anarki. The ranks of half dead are swelling enormously. I’ve no bloody clue how. His followers are abducting soldiers from all over the world and converting them quite quickly. More arrive, angry and belligerent, each day. It isn’t long before their souls are gone, and they’re sporting robes.”
“Why soldiers?” I ask.
“Think, you sod.” Shock’s scathing stare insults my intelligence. “They’re well trained.”
I let his insult slide. I’m too infuriated about Mathias forcing servicemen into his ranks to respond to Shock’s petty jab.
“How many? A few dozen?” Bram asks.
“A few hundred—at least. And the speed at which he’s able to convert humans to Anarki defies logic.”
“How?” Bram’s blue eyes threaten to bulge. “Each one usually takes days, perhaps weeks.”
“I’ve overheard Mathias talking about an object he recently acquired to speed up the process. I’ve offered to help Zain and the others for appearance’s sake.” He shrugs. “They haven’t taken me up on it yet.”
“Mathias isn’t converting them himself?” Bram sounds 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 drains women of their energy daily. I can hear their screams…” Shock blanches.
How could any normal man stand to listen to women being brutalized? Then again, Shock isn’t normal. Do those events actually disturb him? Or is that for show?
Shock whirls on me. “I hate it, you sodding little whelp, but if I blow my cover, many more will die.”
I fist my hands, loathing the bastard more every minute. But he’s right.
Bram paces again, his thoughts obviously racing. “This can’t go on. The Council isn’t willing to admit that Mathias has returned. Against all my pleadings, 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 plan to defeat Mathias that bloody works.”
“With Mathias weakened and Zain captured, the Anarki will be in disarray, despite the swell of new members. I can give you all you need to stage an attack on his secret location.”
Or to lead the Doomsday Brethren into a trap.
“If he’s weak, and the ranks are in chaos, perhaps the time is right.” Bram regards the others. “Duke? Marrok? Ice?”
Duke crosses his arms over his chest, and despite recently having battled a dozen men, he still looks surprisingly posh and put together. “We’ll need to train a bit more. But the idea sounds reasonable.”
“Aye,” Marrok adds. “The strategy must be sound. We can leave nothing to chance.”
Ice merely gives a humorless laugh. “I’m always in favor of kicking Anarki arse.”
Are they all mental? Bram doesn’t want dissension, I understand. But good god, can they not see the obvious? “What if he’s leading us into a trap?”
The men cast measuring glances at Shock who stands tall, arms crossed, legs akimbo, expression full of fuck off. “Think what you want. Ignore me if you like.” He shrugs. “Piss on it, for all I care.”