Page 15 of Seduce Me in Shadow

As if it’s that simple…

Too impatient to wait, I pop by Aquarius’s cubicle. But she’s gone. Lights out, hippie tie-dye coat off its hook. I never thought to ask where she was taking her holiday or when she’d return. Damn it.

I wince against an oncoming headache.

Plan C, it is. I’ll focus on Sydney.

Four minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, I head nonchalantly down the hallway. Sydney’s office is clear, laptop shut down and lights off. Good.

If the woman refuses to take me when she meets her source, I’ll find another way to learn the woman’s identity. That’s top priority. Bram would disagree…but so bloody what? If Anka is Sydney’s source, this might be my only chance of finding my brother’s mate, bringing her home, and restoring his sanity.

Inside Sydney’s office, I shut the door. Darkness envelops me. The November sun sets much earlier in London than my adopted home in Texas. Though I grew up in the UK, I’ve forgotten how long the nights can be. It’s just past five and pitch black, so I don’t dare turn on the lights. Instead, I flick on my phone’s flashlight and block the light with my body.

Sydney often jots thoughts on little pieces of paper. Where would she keep those notes?

I open a few drawers. Plastic spoons, snack crackers, chewing gum, a calculator, lots of red pens, and paper clips by the dozens. Some old news articles, now yellowing, about nothing of importance. I find zero in her handwriting—no addresses. Nothing that might lead me to Anka.

With a quiet curse, I shut the drawers. Where the bloody hell would she stash her notes? I spin around to a short filing cabinet. Locked, both drawers. I reach behind me for a paperclip. This is hardly the first time I’ve picked a lock. But as I shape the little scrap of metal for my purposes, a burst of energy floods my senses. My fingertips tingle. A wave of dizziness and a cold sweat follow. Then I’m swamped with a distinct urge to pass my fingers in front of the cabinet and focus on unfastening the lock.

I resist. I’ve been having these impulses for the better part of a year. I hate them. I ignore them. I fucking hope that if I never succumb to such urges, they’ll dissipate. But they’re getting more frequent and stronger.

My thirtieth birthday is mere weeks away.

Redoubling my focus, I twist the paperclip in the near dark. Despite a fumble or two, I manage to bend it in the shape I need. Thirty seconds later, the filing cabinet is open. A quick prowl proves Sydney’s files absent of information about her information source. Damn, the little firecracker must keep those notes elsewhere.

Locking the drawer again, I cast my desperate gaze to her laptop and boot up the machine, only to be confronted with a prompt for a password. Fuck. No idea what it might be.

Again, something subversive screams at me to grip the PC, connect to it with my mind, and coax it to tell me Sydney’s secrets. Like before, I shutter the urge. Instead, I search under her desk and keyboard in case she’s written down her password.

As always, Sydney is sharp and organized and hides her secrets too well.

Time to guess. What do I know about the woman, besides the fact she’s gorgeous, smart, and determined? I type in her birthday. The system rejects my attempt. Only two more before I’m locked out, so I’d better think smart.

Has she mentioned upcoming travel? Is she excited about Christmas? Does she have any pets? What is her favorite color? Favorite food? All common fodder for passwords, but I find myself genuinely interested in the answers.

Christ, I have it bad for her.

Three days ago, I picked up an anonymous blonde. The night before that, a well-curved brunette. Neither of them satisfied me. I’m hungrier than ever, crawling out of my skin for sex. But I only want Sydney. The need is getting stronger each day.

This intense attraction must be magically enhanced. I’ve never felt anything like it.

I don’t dare scratch the itch.

My fingers hover over the keyboard again.Think, think.As my fingertips touch the keys, a wave of energy rolls throughme. Tingles drift up my arms. Then knowledge bursts across my brain.Cadensexy1.

Sydney finds me sexy?

No. I can’t think about that. Surely that can’t be her password.

Unless… Did my unintentional magic reveal it to me? As much as I hate that idea, there’s only one way to find out…

I type the characters in carefully and hitEnter. Almost instantly, her screen flashes, and her desktop appears. I’m in.

Bloody hell, her password shouldn’t have popped into my head. It shouldn’t even be possible…unless my bloody transition from man to wizard is near.

Shoving aside that terrifying possibility, I search her computer from top to bottom and find nothing but outdated stories, months-old missives, and work-related emails.

Cursing, I extinguish the torch on my phone and put her computer back to sleep. Now what?

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