CHAPTER ONE “WE HAVE PROBLEMS.” Caden MacTavish rolled his eyes. If Bram Rion thought that was news, it came two weeks too late. Hovering on the edge of a bottle green armchair, Caden watched Merlin’s grandson slam the door to his palatial home office, locking the Doomsday Brethren into the edgy silence with him. Each were warriors in their own way, most magical. All had the kind of mettle that would have been welcome in the Marine platoon in which Caden had served. Without Bram’s Hollywood smile, magickind’s Brad Pitt looked both jumpy and grave. In fact, all the wizards, and Marrok, the former immortal and King Arthur’s champion, looked grim. The tension ratcheted up, and Caden’s thoughts drifted to his absent brother Lucan, a Doomsday Brethren warrior. Please God, let this end soon. A loud crash upstairs thumped the ceiling, shook the walls. A woman screamed, terror bleeding from her voice. On the upper floor, a door crashed open, the shrieking grew louder, and footsteps pounded above him. She was running down the stairs. Heading out the door. Tearing out of the library, Caden raced to the shrieking blond woman, ignoring Bram’s shout calling him back. He grabbed the frantic witch by her shoulders. Though likely over two hundred, she looked deceptively young. Her wide green eyes were glazed with fear. “Wait. Please.”