She hesitated, sent him a long measuring glance. “All right.”

Caden wasn’t sure she truly believed him, but at least she was talking. He let out a huge sigh of relief. Yes, he wanted to find Anka, right Lucan’s life, return to Dallas. But he did feel the urge to protect Sydney. He would miss her—worry about her—once he’d gone.

“Did your source give you more information?” he asked, sitting in the office’s guest chair once more.

“A bit.”

“Enough for another article?”

“Not certain yet.”

She was holding back . . . and he didn’t blame her. He’d handled things badly before. Today hadn’t been loads better, but a least she no longer looked hostile. “Will you share what you know? Please.”

For a long moment, Sydney did nothing but stare, as if trying to read his thoughts. Finally, she shrugged. “Since you’re my photographer and assigned partner, I’m supposed to work with you. And you’ll read the details when they’re printed.

“According to my source, the magical war is escalating. Mathias rose from an exile that was supposed to be like death and last forever. Apparently, no one knows how he did it, but everyone knows he wants to overthrow a terrible class system that oppresses the poor. His goal is to help them rise up.”

Caden had never heard such a load of tripe. “Or so he says.”

“Indeed. But it makes for a juicy story. Holly wants me to play the angle that since he’s arisen like a savior, magickind will embrace him. The battle in the tunnel a few weeks ago was one of many to throw off the oppressors, and stay tuned for more details.”

He couldn’t let her print any of that, though he couldn’t tell her why without revealing too much. Besides, Sydney was an independent creature. The minute he told her to do one thing, she’d do the opposite.

“So you’re glorifying the man who raped this poor woman?” he asked.

She paused, then wrinkled her nose. “That’s been my objection, but Holly likes the angle that this witch was an enemy of his utopia and he dealt harshly with her. I couldn’t see another slant.”

“Mathias is no hero. You know bollocks about combat.”

“Admittedly.”

“The psychological game is more than half the battle. The aggressor needs the masses on his side, and if he’s in the wrong, he must lie. What if Mathias is bamboozling these magical people? What if he’s claiming to be their savior, but merely wants power for his own gain? What if he’s convinced the poor that he can lift them up, but it’s a huge ruse?” He clenched his fists, and his shoulders tensed, as if he was barely restraining himself from pounding on the desk. “And what if he raped that poor woman because she belonged to someone fighting on the right side, and Mathias knew he could crush that man by brutalizing his woman?”

Sydney’s jaw dropped, then she scrambled for a notepad. “You’re bloody good at this. Much more interesting than Holly’s suggestion.”

“If I talked to your source, in addition to protecting you, perhaps we could craft a better story together.”

“Can’t.” Sydney didn’t miss a beat, just continued jotting down notes. “I’ve told you, the poor witch is terrified. A man, especially one like you, would send her scurrying to dig her own grave. She’d never talk again.”

“Tell me about her. Maybe I can find some way to ease her fears,” he went on. “You could assure her that I would never harm her. She trusts you.”

“Very little. She jumps at a shadow. No offense, but you wear that soldier mien a bit too well. You could never soothe her.”

“Perhaps I should talk to her on the phone first, allay her worries, and pave the way for a face-to-face meeting. For your safety, I’d rather you not meet with her again unless I’m there.”

Pausing, Sydney looked up from her notes. “She doesn’t want her picture taken.”

Caden couldn’t tell if she believed him or would delay meeting with her source without him. And he could neither lose his only possible lead to Anka nor allow Sydney to risk herself.

“So I won’t take it.”

Sydney shrugged. “Convincing her will be a challenge. Besides, she’s gone for a bit.”

“With Aquarius on holiday? Where?”

“I don’t know. Their plans weren’t set. Said something about Paris, perhaps.”

Damn! Aquarius and Anka, if she was indeed Sydney’s source, could be anywhere.

“I have a bad feeling about this story,” he murmured. “I beg you to hold off unless I can be certain you’re safe.”

“I think you’re worried more than necessary. It’s . . . sweet of you, but Holly wants another story now. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

Tamping down his frustration, he reached for logic. He had to get through to this woman, stop this story. “Where is the picture your previous photographer took of the battle aftermath? Can I have a look?”

Sydney frowned, then rifled through one of the folders on her desk. When she found the photo, she slid it across the desk to him. “Here.”

He slid it back in front of her. “How many dead bodies do you see?”

She glanced at the picture, then away. “It’s too dark and grainy to tell.”

“More than a few?” he challenged.

She hesitated, as if sensing his point before he made it and already looking for a way to refute it. “Yes.”

“Dozens, in fact. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps.” She shrugged.

“No. Obviously. These were men. Judging from their uniforms, many were soldiers, which means they were trained in combat. And they are dead in droves.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “If Mathias wanted this story hushed, do you think he’d have any compunction about killing you?”

Sydney didn’t answer, but Caden knew by the look on her face that she understood his point.

“By all accounts, there was blood everywhere. Severed heads and limbs, multiple gunshots, and a lot of death. What do you know about avoiding those?”

Looking about, she fiddled with a pen, tapped her toes. She didn’t like the truth.

“Sydney?”

“All right. Nothing. But you can’t fight off magic.”

“I know how to use a gun. Before you do anything for this story, especially visit the madman’s victim, take me with you. That’s all I ask.”

“I’ll . . . think about it.”

CHAPTER FIVE

TOWARD THE END OF the day, Holly stomped into Sydney’s office, brows and hands both raised in an expectant expression. People often underestimated her because of her Kewpie doll looks—and always paid the price.

“Where is the latest installment in the magical war saga?” Holly asked. “I’ve got loads of e-mails. You won’t believe how interested readers are.”

Wrong. Seems everyone was, especially her hunky freelance photographer. But this morning, he’d conveyed interest in more than the story with his body taut and passionate words. Whether that interest was a scam remained to be seen. God knows, it had nearly melted her on the spot. She wanted to believe him.

“I have a draft of the story,” Sydney said. “Maybe by tomorrow or Wednesday.”

“What? No, I need it now. It has to be to copy editing no later than tomorrow morning to make the next issue.”

“I know. It’s . . . well, I’m not happy with it, actually. The angle troubles me.”

“We’ve been over this. I gave you a perfectly good angle.”

Sydney grimaced. “And I still don’t like glorifying a rapist.”

“Most people who read us think we’re total rubbish or are lunatics themselves. It’s not as if they’re going to be questioning your journalistic integrity.”

Sydney felt compelled to get this right. Some of the stories she wrote she knew weren’t real. This felt not only real but critical. “But it’s got my name on the byline. And I know this angle is wrong. Then there’s safety, both the source’s and mine. What if this Mathias character really is real? What if he’s not a savior but a villain?”

Holly shrugged. “Whatever his reason, would a wizard trying to take magickind in hand really be spending his time reading human tabloids and compiling his hit list?” Holly frowned. “What’s made you change your mind? After our conversation last night, you seemed set with the story.”

“Well, I talked to Caden. He made me look at the story in a new light.”

“His version won’t sell more copies of the paper.”

Sydney disagreed, not that no one expected accurate reporting from them. Many believed all their stories were fabricated. But Sydney had a different feeling about this one.

“This poor witch makes me want to print the truth. With it, maybe her family will find her. Or we can prevent more women from being raped, even if Mathias leads a good cause, he’s got a terrible human rights policy. And Caden’s angle sounded interesting, even plausible.”

“If Caden’s thoughts are causing you to hesitate on turning in an already good story, then he’s given you crap. Why are you letting that man crawl into your head?”

Good question. She should be focused on her story, told from her perspective. But his concerns for her safety were valid. His insistence was compelling. She felt in those moments as if she’d seen the real Caden, not necessarily his words, but a caring side he usually hid from others. “Something about him isn’t spot on, yet—”

“You mean besides trying to talk you out of fine stories? Is he doing his job properly?”

“He is. Amazing pictures. Crisp. Beautiful angles, even on terrible subjects. His work is like art. That’s not what troubles me. It’s the man himself.”

Holly frowned, her blond hair falling from her ponytail. “Meaning? Oh hell, you two aren’t having an office shag, are you?”

Sydney lowered her head to hide the flush she felt crawling up her face. Shagged him, no. Like to? Absolutely. “No. I just need pointers on working with him more effectively.”

Her editor raised an arched brow. “If you can’t get on with a man that dishy, I’m not certain there’s any hope for you. Smile, flirt, if you must. But tell him what pictures you need. Get the job done.”

“It’s not that simple. His behavior . . . I wondered for a bit if he took this job to scoop me on the magical war story.”

Holly stood up straighter. “Why do you think that?”

“I’m not certain anymore, but at first, he literally talked of nothing else and showed no interest in any of my other stories. He forever asked questions and hounded me about my source. I told him to bugger off.”

Holly smiled. “How did he take that?”

Sydney grimaced. She didn’t mean to put Caden in a bad light, but Holly was more than a boss; she was a mentor too. Perhaps Holly could help her put this mess into perspective. She couldn’t get her editor’s opinion without being honest.

“Over the weekend, he came to my flat, expressing interest in me romantically, but I assumed he was lying and threw him out. So he waited for me to leave my flat and tried to follow me to my meeting.”

“Prat. I ought to sack him now.”

“I thought the same thing. I particularly doubted his reason for returning to the UK. I’m still suspicious of his brother’s mystery illness. Do you know anything about it?”

“No, since that’s personal, I didn’t ask.”

“I did. He said next to nothing except that it was his reason for returning here after over a dozen years away. He went on sabbatical from a prestigious job to work here, but never talks about his brother. He doesn’t sneak away to call or visit the hospital. He’s reluctant to talk about his brother’s ailment. It’s odd.”

“He’s quiet, that one. So you fear he’s trying to scoop you and made up an ill brother to explain why he’s working here? Tried to get romantic with you so you’d share your source?”

“Though it sounds far-fetched, I thought so, but now I wonder. Maybe I’ve been tired and paranoid. But he says he’s concerned for my safety, that Mathias could be dangerous. And why help me find a better angle for my story if he only wanted to steal it? Bloody puzzle. Just in case, I’m doing my best to keep him at bay. I don’t want the man getting my information and selling it elsewhere.”

Holly nodded. “Good thinking. Does he behave guiltily?”

“Oddly, yes. Guiltily . . . hard to say. Still waters run deep. Until he suddenly became agitated today, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man more still.”

“Agitated? Do you think he’s violent?”

“No. But I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. I can’t prove he wants my story. He argued very passionately that he doesn’t, but I can’t fathom another reason for his odd behavior.”

Her editor frowned. “This story is too important to us. Keep your notes to yourself. Lock everything up. Don’t leave your computer untended without password protecting it. And drop off the current one to copy editing tonight.”

Sydney hesitated, then nodded.

“Good. Other papers are starting to get interested. In fact, I had a call from a rival today, feeling me out on the same thing. Which reminds me! I’ve also had a ring from another bloke, claiming to have pictures of the tunnel and the bodies no one else has. Odd name . . .” Holly’s brow furrowed as the wheels in her head turned. “Zain Something-or-another!” She shrugged. “I’ll chat with him, see what he’s got and if we want to acquire it.”

That should have made Sydney feel better, but didn’t. The fact remained, Caden worked beside her for a cause she could only guess at, while her interest in him had grown. “Brilliant.”

“What’s next?”

“In the magical war story? I don’t know. This trail is starting to get cold. I don’t think my source can tell me much more. And if I told her I was a reporter, I think she’d stop talking altogether. So unless there’s another magical battle, I’ll have to try some related stories. I have the supposed ‘magical diary’ that Aquarius gave me for my birthday. When she returns from holiday, I’ll ask about its origins.”