Possess Me at Midnight

“And coupled with Mathias’s likely threats to kill loved ones and wipe out entire families if he does not win his way, I would not be surprised if some of the Council approves him,” Tynan pointed out. He knew Council politics well, because his grandfather sat elbow to elbow with Bram.



“We need a strong claim to the seat.” Sterling rested his chin on his fist in thought.



“Later, Sterling. We bloody need to rescue Ice now. Mathias captured him. He’ll torture and kill him, and the man sacrificed himself to keep me safe. I won’t leave him to die. Mathias’s bid for the Council can wait a few hours.”



Silence descended on the room for an instant, then Duke nodded. “Right, then. Ice first. The vote can’t be conducted until we locate the others and see if any come forward with a candidate. If only Bram were well, he could nominate—”



“Focus on Ice!” she demanded.



“Of course.” Duke wiped at tired eyes, then slanted a glance at Lucan again.



Sabelle knew they suspected she had deeper feelings for Ice than she should for a mere Doomsday Brethren warrior and she didn’t care.



“Someone best fetch Marrok,” Caden suggested.



“Where is he?” Tynan searched the cozy, fire-lit room with a frown.



“Putting the new volunteers through their paces, find out if they’re manly enough for the cause and all that,” olivia put in. “I’ll bring him in.”



“New volunteers?”



Sydney shrugged. “Tynan brought Raiden and Ronan here.”



The Wolvesey twins? As unruly as they’d always been, they were the least of her worries. Sabelle winced.



“I see that look,” Lucan said. “They’re hardly the same boys who pulled on your hair when you were in nappies.”



Olivia opened the door, and Marrok, along with the two green-eyed wizards, entered behind him. Everyone was here.



“Doomsday Brethren,” Duke called. “Gather round. We need a plan.”



CHAPTER TEN



ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES SLID by, and still the warriors had no strategy. Sterling insisted that Ice, being Deprived, was expendable and constantly changed the subject from plotting the warrior’s rescue to thwarting Mathias’s scheme to sit on the Council. Caden finally redirected his uncle to locate an obscure bit of Council law, for which Sabelle could have kissed him.



But among the Doomsday Brethren, tempers ran short. The warriors argued about how to rescue Ice. No one knew where he was being held. The only possible source of information was Shock—and no one trusted him.



Hearing the tick-tock of the clock, Sabelle dashed upstairs with an excuse that she needed to check her brother and store the Doomsday Diary in a safer place. She sent olivia and Sydney meaningful glances, then disappeared into the first available bedroom in Sterling’s sprawling estate.



Moments later, the other two ladies entered behind her.



“I’m going to get him back,” she said as they entered.



Olivia and Sydney exchanged a glance. Yes, they both suspected that she and Ice had formed more than a friendship while on the run. Wisely, neither said a word.



Sabelle unzipped her pack and opened the book, then shot olivia and Sydney direct stares. “How do I use this?”



“The Doomsday Diary?” olivia asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”



“Do you have a better one? We’d be mad to assume that those warriors downstairs could infiltrate Mathias’s compound, wherever it might be, guarded by all those Anarki, and have no injuries or casualties. Why risk them if the Doomsday Diary can help? I didn’t know for certain how to use it and had no time when Ice was first taken. But now they’ve left me no choice. Help me.”



They hesitated, then Sydney nodded. Olivia did the same.



“I always started with a ‘Dear Magical Diary,’ as that’s what I believed the book to be. Of course, I believed it merely granted sexual fantasies. Anyway . . .” She flushed, her pale skin turning rosy. “All you must do is write down your wish.”



olivia searched the room for a pen, then handed it to Sabelle. “We now know that for your wish to come true, you must have a powerful desire to have it granted. The bigger the wish, the more you must want it. Saving Ice must be your heart’s deepest desire.”



Not at problem, at all. Fear gnawed at Sabelle’s belly, and she ached without him. Every moment that slid by when she didn’t know if he lived was pure torture. She wanted him beside her where she could wrap her arms around him, so they might have a chance to untangle the future together.



“Perfect.” Sabelle touched the pen to the page, preparing her thoughts.



“It takes time,” Sydney warned. “The diary, I mean. It doesn’t work like the snap of a finger.”



Quickly, Sabelle wrote out a few sentences in which she begged for Ice’s safe return. Then she snapped the book shut. If the magic was traceable, they’d deal with it.



“I won’t leave Ice’s fate to the whims of a book. I’m going to visit Shock.”



Olivia gasped.



“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Sydney rounded on her. “He’s most likely sided with Mathias, and may view your presence as an opportunity to abduct you to make his master happy.”



Possible. They knew little about the wizard except that he claimed to be working for the Doomsday Brethren, appeared when it suited him, then disappeared again just as quickly. Secretive in the extreme, Shock was ever a mystery. And at this point, she saw few options.



“The Doomsday Diary originated from Morganna le Fay’s capricious magic. None of us know a great deal about the book’s workings. I can’t rely on it alone. So I’m going to seek out Shock. I’m aware he’s neither safe nor predictable, but he didn’t hurt you when he could have,” she pointed out to Sydney. “Besides, it’s possible he’ll be away and Anka will know something useful.”



Then again, Shock could be there and abduct her on sight. But she couldn’t wait around for the men downstairs to come to a decision that would risk their lives. She’d rather go alone and if she was hurt or killed … Well, she wasn’t as vital to the cause as Ice.



“Let us go with you,” Sydney urged.



“No! Mathias would love to stop the anti-Anarki voice of the transcasts, and olivia has an enormous target on her head, being Morganna le Fay’s great-granddaughter. Besides, I need her to take the diary under her wing.” Sabelle handed the book to olivia. “I don’t have to tell you to guard it with your life. And Sydney, I need you to talk fast so the wizards downstairs aren’t aware of my absence.”



“Certainly. But if you’re not back in two hours, we’re coming after you,” Sydney warned.



In two hours, she’d either be successful or dead.



* * *



Sabelle teleported to Shock’s house. On a seedy London street close to Canary Wharf, it was one of many nondescript brick buildings that had withstood wind, water, and war for centuries. Renovations in the form of a new coat of paint or a window washing had done little to disguise the place’s less-than-distinguished feel.



Briefly closing her eyes, Sabelle sent out her personal ring, asking Shock for admittance. She hoped, in fact, that he was elsewhere and she could talk to Anka alone.



Luck wasn’t on her side. A moment later, Shock pulled the door open wearing sunglasses, a glower, leather trousers—and nothing else. The power of his half-bare body roared out at her through the portal. Towering height, bulging shoulders, cabled biceps, ridged abdomen, well-muscled thighs. Imposing, definitely. But he intentionally projected that message.



“To what do I owe this displeasure? Has your brother sent you in his place with some inane message? Does he imagine that I won’t hurt the messenger if she’s pretty?”



If necessary, Sabelle figured she could play games, mince words and not reveal her purpose right off. Shock alone likely knew where Ice was being held. If she played this right and if he chose to help her, she could save Ice soon.



Big if, especially since Shock kept her on his doorstep, shivering in the December chill. Snow had fallen in London, and the damp wind cut through her clothes.



“No. When we freed Sydney from Mathias a few days past, he hit my brother with a spell none of us has ever seen or knows how to counter. It’s slowly been killing him. I’ve merely been able to make him comfortable and hope his absent mate appears. But that’s not—”



“What sort of spell?” he demanded.



“I hardly know. Something that’s wrapped him in a dark cloud and nearly smothered him. But as trying as that may be, I’m here to discuss Ice.”



Shock stood stock-still. Something crossed his face, and Sabelle knew that he was aware of Ice’s captivity.



“What about him?”



“You and I know he will not make it through the night if you don’t help me reach him. Can I come in?”



Again, Shock hesitated, then glanced above her head, to the left and right, as if searching for spies.



“Three minutes,” he finally barked, then stepped aside.



Sabelle entered the surprisingly warm little place. Shock’s decor or lack thereof didn’t interest her, but every wall was white, every stick of furniture black. Scratched hardwood floors with threadbare rugs ran in a mismatched scattering all over the place.



“You want to discuss Ice or compare living spaces?”



With a guilty grimace, she shook her head. “Sorry. Have you seen him?”



He shrugged, indicating that he really didn’t care whether she’d stared or apologized. “I suspected Bram or Duke would come to plead Rykard’s case to me. I never expected you.”



“Bram cannot, and Duke is busy with Mathias’s nomination to the Council after MacKinnett’s murder.”



“Are you surprised that Mathias has no use for the Councilmen and seeks to replace them? Look, little girl. Mathias has no use for any of the Council, your brother especially. And if he tried to kill Bram with that black cloud and your brother is still alive, that’s a testament to Bram’s strength of will. Something is keeping him alive. What is it?”



Sabelle shrugged. Revenge, his mate, pure stubbornness?



“Do the rest of the Doomsday Brethren know you’re here?”



She hesitated. The truth might make her vulnerable, but Sabelle suspected that Shock would quickly ferret out a lie … and he wouldn’t take it well. “No.”



“Duke should have come. Perhaps Marrok. You have no business dabbling in what you scarcely understand.”



She was far beyond the point of dabbling, damn him. “I understand perfectly that this is very dangerous. None of them could come. They don’t trust you.”



“And you do?”



“Not entirely, no. My only consolation is that I don’t believe you have any reason to personally dislike me or want Mathias to dispense his personal brand of rape on me.”



Shock paced the floor. When he retreated, Sabelle saw a tattoo sprawled across his back, an abstract Celtic knot/ lightning bolt design that swept from shoulder to shoulder. Nothing but black ink, bronze skin, and the incredible pain he must have endured.



Then the wizard turned again. “I saw Ice. Mopped up the blood after his first … conversation with Mathias. I took him a bit of food. His signature has changed since I saw him last.”



Sabelle closed her eyes, knowing where this line of questioning was headed, but she played along. “Yes, he Called to me.”



“You didn’t Bind to him.” It wasn’t a question; Shock could see that in her magical signature.



“I want to speak to my brother first.”



Shock raised a black brow. “You certain either of them will live for that conversation?”



“No.” Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her.



“You have any interest in Binding to Rykard?”



This might stun Shock down to his big, hairy toes, but … “Yes.”



Suddenly, he started laughing. “Won’t that fuck with your brother’s mood?”



Yes, and she was losing patience with his odd mind games. Shock was always unpredictable, but tonight had her tied up in knots. Not for anything would she tell him so. “Will you help me or not?”



“What do you expect me to do? And why do you think I would do it when none of the Doomsday Brethren trust me?”



“You answered my brother’s summons when he first formed the group. You threw your lot in with them and have assisted the cause … in your way. I like to think you give the appearance of helping both sides so you can eventually deal Mathias his death blow.”



Shock shrugged, the inky gloss of his straight black hair brushing his shoulders. “Do you now? Anyone ever called you idealistic?”



“Probably, but it’s better than being a dodgy prick.”



Shock laughed again. “Part of my charm.”



Personally, she was certain the man had none, but since he had the ability to read minds, as she did, she buried that thought very deep.

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