Possess Me at Midnight

“Take it. I have the fire for warmth.”



She shook her head. “I’m checking on my brother, then going to bed.”



“Have you been thinking of writing in the Doomsday Diary?”



“Yes. I know that’s risky, but . . .” She bit her lip in indecision. “Hopefully soon.”



He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Is that wise?”



“I cannot do nothing and watch my brother die when I have the power to save him. I’ll have to hope it doesn’t kill us both in the process,” Sabelle answered with a shrug. “If we find that Mathias can’t track the diary through usage, then I’ll regret not trying it. Beyond that, I know the diary’s rules. Whatever I write cannot be too big for my magic, and it must be my heart’s deepest desire.”



“You’re powerful. The way you uphold your brother, he’s clearly your heart’s priority. You should have no problem.”



Meaning Ice clearly wasn’t her priority. The dig shouldn’t bother her. It did.



“Family is important to me,” she defended.



He raised a black brow at her. “Indeed.”



“You cannot make me feel guilty for loving my brother.”



“Of course not.” He slanted a look of hot challenge. “I’m just puzzled that you seem not to have room in your heart for another.”



“I do,” she protested hotly.



“Then your refusal to answer my Call is specific to me. How many Calls have you received, Sabelle? How many have you Renounced?”



Was he insinuating that she enjoyed toying with wizards? “None. I would never purposefully—” She shook her head. “First you cast me in the role of stupid blond siren. Now the heartless bitch. I can’t imagine why you Called to me, if you think so little of me.”



“Instinct aside, I’m not certain either. A mistake, regardless.”



His words were well-aimed barbs. He was trying to make her hurt as she’d hurt him, most likely. But even knowing that didn’t stop the gibes from finding their mark. Or the pain from spreading all through her, radiating a hot, debilitating agony.



“I tried to stop you.”



“Renounce me.”



This again? “In the morning. I’m tending to my brother, then I’m going to sleep. We have to be up in a few hours.”



“Won’t you sleep better with this off your chest?”



He was pushing her again, for some reason she couldn’t understand. His words said to reject him, but his face … that burning laser gaze of his, so green and full of desire … Renouncing him was the last thing he wanted.



“Good night.”



Before he could reply to that, she made her way into the second bedroom, where Bram lay still as death. The cloud of black smoke had thickened in the last hour. His magical signature flickered, faded. Sabelle bit her lip to hold in tears. She was too tired to spend more. Didn’t have the emotional energy or luxury of crying. Tend to business. Get sleep. Start again tomorrow. Don’t linger, don’t think, don’t feel.



If she elected to take a chance and write in the diary tomorrow, she clearly needed to wish for his physical health first. If she could bring back his robust nature, perhaps she could eventually conquer the magical black smoke.



If you do, what are its side effects?



She’d worry about that later.



Dragging his covers over him, Sabelle kissed Bram’s forehead, then smoothed his hair from his forehead. He needed a shower. She needed a phone to resume searching for his mate. Energy would help him, and she had no way to give him enough to recover. Besides, Bram was now mated and would most efficiently grasp energy from his mate. Without this Emma she’d never met, he could die.



What a damn mess.



Fighting tears again—and angry because she hated them—she tiptoed back through the main room, purposely not looking at Ice. If she did, he’d only engage her. They’d talk. Fight. She didn’t have any more fight in her right now.



Pushing open the door to her room again, the little bedside lamp bathed a corner of the room in golden light, including the bed. On top laid the quilt, neatly spread and tucked in. Something in her heart twisted. Even when she refused to answer his Call, he put her needs first.



Stomping across the floor, she yanked the door open, ready to challenge him. Before she could say a word, he beat her to it.



“Not a word, princess. And don’t lie to me anymore. Shut the door and go to sleep.”



“You’re bossy.”



“I’m restraining myself. Unless you’d rather I didn’t . . .”



He was baiting her, and she knew it. Damn man. But it worked. She slammed the door, then huffed to the bed, trying to maintain her anger.



All she really wanted was to open the door and call his bluff, invite him into the bed to share the blanket. She more than suspected where that would lead … and then neither of them would need the damn quilt.



CHAPTER FIVE



SABELLE GRIPPED THE STEERING wheel of their stolen vehicle as the sun rose over the hills around Monmouth and glared at Ice. He’d been grouchy since she emerged from her bedroom to find him dressed and staring into the cold fireplace. His mood was not improving with their argument.



“We cannot simply make a mad dash to your home and hide,” she pointed out. “Swansea takes us a hundred kilometers west, away from Duke and the rest of the Doomsday Brethren.”



“No one will find you under my roof. No one,” Ice vowed, stone-faced. It sent a shiver through her. “If the Anarki can’t find you, they can’t hurt you. They can’t find the book or your brother either. It’s safer.”



From the perspective of an overprotective mate, yes. Newly mated wizards were often irrational. She hadn’t spoken the Binding to him, but by Calling to her, Ice had declared himself hers—and now acted accordingly. Sabelle found it both annoying and touching.



“It’s isolated.” She shook her head. “We have to find the others and warn the Council members. Thomas MacKinnett lives in Ludlow, not terribly far from here. It’s closer to the other warriors. We can warn MacKinnett and, through him, the rest of the Council.”



If anything, Ice’s expression turned more remote. “I worry far less about the Council than you, princess.”



His surly words softened her, damn it. After a mostly sleepless night contemplating his Call and all the ways it would destroy her life if she accepted, she ached, down to her very bones. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with these conflicting emotions. “I’ve taken care of myself for eighty-four years. I don’t suddenly need you to do it for me.”



Ice froze over even more, then squinted out the wind-shield at the rising sun. “Have you decided that I am not your mate, then?”



She’d said it wrong; he’d taken it wrong. “I meant only that I’m not helpless.”



Ice scanned the remote Welsh landscape that reflected his expression. Bloody hell, he’d continue to take her words as some sign of pending Renunciation until she said it. And she should. Now. Bram would be appalled that she was hesitating. Sabelle wasn’t certain why she couldn’t manage to say no.



Except that she knew once she said those words, she’d never see Ice again. The prospect disturbed her.



And she couldn’t bear the thought that she would cause him pain.



“Ice.” She laid her hand on his forearm, driving with her right. The muscles were so hard and male. Heat radiated through her palm.



He turned, pierced her with a fiery green gaze. “I don’t recommend touching me now.”



Or … he would jump on her and make passionate love to her? The burn generated by his touch spread through her body at the thought. For prudence’s sake, she reluctantly lifted her palm away, then gripped the steering wheel again. Instantly, she felt cold without him.



“Sorry.”



“You’ve aroused me too much. My instinct screams for me to take you in every way possible.”



She frowned. “I did nothing to arouse you.”



He clenched his jaw, his stare growing more aggressive. “You breathed.”



Oh God. She had to end this road trip as soon as possible or this … thing between them would take a disastrous turn.



“Relax,” he said softly. “I’m merely being honest, not preparing to bloody assault you.”



Sabelle took a deep breath, then realized she was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, her fingers were white. She forced her shoulders to relax. “Sorry. The whole situation makes me a bit tense. I’d feel better if we headed for Mac-Kinnett’s. It’s closer. They’ll have plenty of ways to contact Duke and the others. There’s more civilization for us to lose ourselves in until we’re all reunited and have a strategy.”



“Yes, and more civilization for the Anarki to blend into, as well. Go to Swansea. Stay there with the book. I will teleport to MacKinnett’s, warn him, then find Duke.”



“Do you know Thomas MacKinnett?”



“No, but I’d like to believe that if one of the Doomsday Brethren arrived to tell him that Mathias planned to kill him, he’d be smart enough to listen. Since the pisshead murdered his daughter, I’m guessing he’s one of the few on the Council who believes Mathias has returned?”



“He’s old, not stupid. He believes, and Auropha’s murder made him paranoid,” she said, referring to the young witch Mathias had killed during his first night out of exile. “He won’t see anyone he doesn’t know. Since his daughter’s death, I’ve spent a great deal of time with the man, devising a way to convince the rest of the Council that Mathias is, indeed, back. But if you’ve never met him, you won’t step toe on his land.”



“I’m not putting the safety of this Council prick above yours.”



Sabelle paused and counted to ten. Ice meant well, but she had to make him see reason. “Without the Council, chaos would ensue—prime conditions for Mathias to overtake magickind. Then there would be no safe place anywhere.”



Beside her, Ice gnashed his teeth as if grinding up glass.



“They are a necessary evil, and you know it.” Her soft murmur closed the lid on his argument; they both knew it.



“Fine. Stay close to me. Every moment. This is foolish and risky, and I won’t have you in additional danger.”



Even in the midst of all this danger, his words made her ridiculously giddy. Sabelle bit her lip to hold in her smile. “of course. Right beside you.”



Finally, Ice turned back to her, his gaze a burning green. “Where you belong.”



Less than an hour later, Sabelle insisted they stop in Hereford to switch cars. Their current ride being stolen, she worried the human police would be looking for it and arrest them. Normally, that wasn’t an issue, but without the ability to teleport, it was a potentially serious problem.



Ice clenched his fists as a shiver crawled up the back of his neck. This whole trip made him wary, from Sabelle’s odd reluctance to Renounce him and end the drama, to the gut feeling they were headed straight into danger.



In town, they encountered a cattle market with farmers milling about cold, dusty lots, waiting to sell their animals. Sabelle exited the car and shrugged on her backpack. She glanced in the backseat at her unconscious brother, who looked like a napping traveler. With a sigh, she motioned Ice out of the car.



“Walk to the end of the block and wait there,” she murmured, then turned away.



Ice grabbed her arm and spun her back around. She stumbled and fell against him. A jolt of desire thundered through him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her close.



“Let me loose.” She wriggled.



Not on your life. “Where are you going?”



“To get another car. I won’t get out of your sight, Ice. But we can’t spend time soothing your territorial feathers now. The Anarki could be on our tail; we don’t know. Let me do this, then we’ll be back on the road.”



Blast it all, why was the woman so bloody logical? He was proud of her, yes. Dazzled by her cool head under pressure. Usually, that was his role. But the woman had so turned him upside down that Ice couldn’t think past his need to keep her safe—or his desire to lay her across his bed and show her exactly how he wanted her.



“I don’t like it.”



“I hardly expected you to. Maybe you can find a bite we can take on the road and a phone to ring Duke?”



Her tone rankled. She talked to him as if she planned to do something he wouldn’t like, and he was too thick to catch her. But he’d play along. For now. And watch her every move.



His instincts screaming, he skulked to a café at the end of the block. It was a bit late for breakfast, a bit early for lunch, and the establishment was largely empty, though he heard voices in the kitchen.



Near the cash register, some absent member of the wait-staff had left their mobile phone. Quickly, he grabbed it and punched in Duke’s number, grateful that he remembered it. He stared out the window as Sabelle looked about. One ring, two, three … voicemail. Bugger! He left a quick message: He and Sabelle had no phone with them and would call back when possible. No hint of location … just in case Duke’s mobile—or Duke himself—was under Mathias’s control. When he looked up, Sabelle was nowhere to be seen.