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)
“You’re in the midst of a war.” Her voice is raspy and heavy with sleep. “And I’ve just realized that includes me now.” She looks lost and confused.
That expression squeezes my chest. I ease back on the bed and take her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this for you.”
“What’s happening here, really? What is this war truly about? What are you fighting against? Anka spoke of oppression, but Mathias doesn’t seem to be the answer.”
“Sydney, I only meant to answer your questions about the past few days at your flat or the book’s real purpose. What you’re asking for…it’s very dangerous knowledge.”
“Without the larger picture, it’s impossible to take in. I wanted the paranormal to be real. Believed in it for ages. Part of me is happy to be proven right. The other part…”
When her brave face crumples, I can’t deny her comfort. I open my arms and fold them around her. “Is scared. I know.”
Sydney goes to me eagerly, cuddling against my chest. “I never imagined knowing the truth would be so dangerous. I only saw the accolades and Pulitzers. Never the downside.”
My first instinct is to tell her that nothing good can come from her knowing magickind’s secrets. There’d only be more danger.
“But I have to know,” she goes on. “If I’m involved now, what good will come from burying my head in the sand and not understanding the danger?”
None. She’s up to her pretty neck in magical war. And she’s right. Ignorance can only get her killed.
“The war is about oppression on the surface, but that’s bunk. Oppression exists in the magical world, I admit. There are two distinct classes, the Privileged and the Deprived, and other than here in Bram’s house, because the war demands it, they don’t mix. It’s simply not done, since some long-ago magical Council separated the classes for ‘safety’s’ sake. That has to change. The Council needs to stop being feudal and update their laws. But Mathias uses that division as an excuse to cause chaos. Ultimately, he’s just another power monger.”
“Mathias wants that book badly. How does he think it will help him? Power-hungry tyrants aren’t usually looking to fulfill their sexual fantasies.”
She blinks up at me, brown eyes sober and open. She’s wearing a little white negligee, likely courtesy of Sabelle or Olivia. It dips off one shoulder to reveal creamy skin dotted with cinnamon freckles. My unruly libido—and my cock—stand at attention. Damn it all, now is hardly the time.
“The book grants wishes, sexual or otherwise. It’s known as the Doomsday Diary because, in the hands of a woman powerful enough, it could bring about doomsday.”
Sydney cocks her head. “Woman, not a man?”
I shake my head. “I’ll have to give you a bit of a history lesson. You were right when you wrote in your article that King Arthur’s half sister, Morgana Le Fay, created the book. She used it as a means to curse people. The theory is that if a witch writes in the book, her wish will come true. A powerful witch could work seriously dangerous magic with it. As with all magic, the one casting it must have the power and the passion to back it up.”
Sydney frowns, looking somewhat perturbed. “So it grants wishes only when a witch writes in it?”
“As far as I know. But perhaps any woman can. We don’t know everything about it. The diary disappeared a millennium and a half ago, and just a few weeks past, Bram discovered Marrok was hiding it all that time.”
“You mean in his family, right? H-he can’t be that old.”
“Incredible, isn’t it? Morgana cursed him with immortality, using the diary. He stole it from her to try to uncurse himself, but nothing worked until he met Olivia. Bram tracked down the book—and Marrok—when he realized Mathias was returning from exile.”
“Exile?”
“This is not the first time he’s tried to control magickind by foul means. If someone doesn’t stop him, he’ll oppress everyone and likely go on a killing spree that will make Adolph Hitler look like an angel.”
She gasps as the words sink in. “Wow. You tried to tell me that Mathias was no savior.”
“I couldn’t explain exactly why without giving away magickind’s secrets to a human. I never meant to drag you into this muck.”
“Human? You say that as if you’re another species. Though I suppose you are. Those two days we spent in my bed—”
“I transitioned from man to wizard.” I admit the inescapable truth.
“I suspected as much after yesterday’s discussion.”
“It’s not something I asked for or wanted. I spent a lot of years praying the gene would pass me by. If I hurt or upset you as I transitioned, I apologize.”
“You were urgent but careful. Tell me the truth.” She turns her profile to me and stares at the wall. “Was I bedding more than one of you during those two days?”