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)
Around me, every single warrior freezes. Their collective panic is palpable.
Poor bastards.
“Who the hell is her bloody anonymous source?” Bram seethes.
Duke sets the paper down with quiet concern. “Ms. Blair claims it’s ‘a witch who recently found herself tangled in the magical war.’”
“Name me any witch who knows so much,” Ice spits.
There’s one possibility that makes my heart stutter. Anka.
“My sister knows, of course,” Bram concedes. “But she would never…”
“Of course not,” Duke agrees. “Sabelle is far too discreet.”
“What about any of the other missing females, like Craddock’s daughter?” Bram muses. “Then again, what witch in her right mind would spill magickind’s most zealously guarded secrets to a bloody human reporter?”
Isn’t it obvious?
“One who’s recently been traumatized and may not be in her right mind,” I point out. “Anka.”
This is the first possible clue to her whereabouts I’ve stumbled across in a fortnight.
Duke concedes that possibility with a shrug. “Whoever her source, Sydney Blair knows there’s a magickind, that we’re at war, and that Mathias is supposedly fighting the Social Order. I shouldn’t have to tell you gentlemen that’s dreadful news.”
Bram rakes a hand through his disheveled hair again. “The worst. The moment anyone actually listens, humanity will hunt us. It’ll make the Inquisition seem like a bloody holiday. And if Mathias reads this, her life will be in danger. We must handle this situation immediately.”
“Indeed.”
When Bram leans back against his desk, the morning sun slants through the open shutters, illuminating just how much strain the wizard is enduring. I nearly feel sorry for him—until he pins me with a wily stare. “I know how we deal with Ms. Blair. You work at a newspaper.”
I frown. “So?”
“Offer your services as a photographer. Find out who her information source is and shut her up before she reveals more about magickind.”
“How do you expect me to finagle information from her? I’m a stranger; it’s unlikely she’ll trust me with her secrets. Wouldn’t it be faster if you performed that wizard mind-reading trick of yours?”
“It only works if I’m touching a woman”—he clears his throat—“intimately. Now that I’m mated, I can no longer shag any woman except my own. You’ll have to pry information from her the human way.”
I’d rather not get tangled in magickind’s problems, but perhaps I can placate Bram while helping my brother. And if I can persuade Ms. Blair to divulge whether Anka is her anonymous source and where my brother’s mate is hiding…even better.
What other options do I have? I need to find Anka to restore my brother’s sanity. At the moment, the bloody reporter is my best—and only—lead.
“Well?” Bram smiles. The bloody bastard has me by the balls, and he knows it.
“Don’t ask me for anything else.”
Chapter
Four
Sydney
“Have we come to the part where I spank you?”
As the final notes of “Happy Birthday” echo through the small conference room, I close my eyes. Did my perpetually inappropriate coworker, Jamie, actually suggest a bit of kinky discipline in front of the entire Out of this Realm staff?
Everyone laughs uncomfortably—except my exceedingly dishy photographer, Caden MacTavish. Mortified, I risk a glance at him. He’s crossed his thick arms over his chest while glaring at Jamie with those piercing blue eyes.
With a disapproving sigh, I turn to the office Lothario. Jamie merely leers, wagging his brows at me.
“Have we come to the part where you leave?” Caden counters.
The words somehow sound polite. He has that upper crust Londoner sound, though muted by time elsewhere. But he can still say most anything and sound civilized. His current expression, on the other hand, rivals Attila the Hun’s on a bad day.
“You think you should be first to have a go at her?” Jamie challenges him. “I’ve seen how you stare.”
I flash hot all over. Since joining our team, Caden has taken a great deal of interest in my work. He’s been especially fixated on the battle in that South London tunnel last month. Though he claimed my story about the magical war is utter rubbish, he’s asked a load of questions, particularly about my information source. Not that I would tell him—or anyone else—the woman’s name. Impossible, anyway. I don’t know it. Unfortunately, Jamie must be addled because Caden’s fascination does not extend to me.
“Bad karma!” Aquarius, my flower-child assistant, scolds both men. “Mellow!”
Neither spares a glance for the little waif in the fringed dress. Silver bangles tinkling, Aquarius reaches out to Caden. Whether she intends to soothe him or test his aura, I can’t be sure. I shoot a silent warning at my assistant. Now is not a good time for one of her healing-crystal/save-the-world moments.
Caden ignores her to glare daggers at Jamie. “You may find this concept hard to grasp, but some men are capable of admiring more about a woman than what’s in her knickers.”
Jamie scoffs. “If he’s a nancy boy.”