Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren 4)

Ice.

Oh God. Everything they had done together last night rushed back to her in stunningly clear memories. She’d never forget looking into his eyes as he penetrated deep inside her, sending her hurtling into pleasure. The memory of the tenderness etched onto the hard lines of his face melted her. And the pleasure he had driven her to, over and over.

He’d been relentless, unyielding, demanding. Competing with a wizard who wasn’t even in the room. After last night, Ice had more than proven that whatever she’d felt for Lucan whilst she’d cared for the wizard during his mate mourning was less than a pale imitation of the vibrant, white-hot need Ice roused, the attentive way he sought to fulfill her every desire. He’d treated her like a woman, not a china doll. And she’d never experienced such ecstatic bliss.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to the harsh lines of his cheekbones, the black wings of his brows over closed eyes, his strong jaw. Her heart skipped. Actually skipped. Something had changed between them last night. She’d always been interested in Ice. Curious. This … was more. Somehow in these past few days, he’d gained a foothold in her heart.

Sex for her had always been easy, fun … and fairly meaningless. She’d rarely found more than fleeting pleasure. But she had stored energy, which was all she’d needed in the past. After Ice, Sabelle didn’t think she could ever settle for less than fierce, stunning desire again. He’d given her so much, shown her so many possibilities, looked at her with such adoration.

You could have that forever, a voice whispered to her. Speak the Binding. Become his mate.

And what would Bram say? The Council? The rest of the Privileged? Could she endure the possibility of being shunned? What about the mating of political necessity Bram needed?

She sighed. Bram had mated where he wished. But wondering where the fairness was in that did her no good. As Merlin’s granddaughter, celebrated from the time she’d entered magickind, she was heaped with expectations from the moment she’d cast her first spell. No, life wasn’t fair. It never would be, and resenting her brother for following his urges and heart only made her feel petty.

Rolling away, Sabelle sat up, glanced over her shoulder at Ice again. He occupied three quarters of the bed, and she recalled his arm twisted about her in slumber, his leg draped over her, hard breathing on her neck. She’d felt cherished. And protected.

Gathering up the courage to Renounce him today would hurt. But she had to do it. Continuing to give Ice hope when she could not be free of her station in life was nothing but unfair to him.

Tears stabbed her eyes, and she shoved the gauzy drape aside and stumbled from the bed, covering her face with her hands and holding in her sobs. She wanted Ice. Wanted him now. Again. God help her, she feared she wanted him for always and no one else would do. A reckless part of her wanted to crawl back into bed with him and Bind to him so it could never be undone.

Duty. Desire. Family. Her heart. All were important, and she didn’t know which way to turn.

Sabelle reached for her clothes and thrust them on, so utterly confused, her mind adrift . . .

Until a sudden shrill clanging in her head warned her.

She rushed to the bed to shake Ice awake, but he was already jumping up and shoving on his jeans.

“The Anarki are here,” he muttered, grim-faced.

Swallowing, she nodded. “They haven’t penetrated our magic yet.”

He paused. “Won’t be long. I sense great numbers.”

As soon as he said the words, a bombardment of mental activity penetrated her. Thoughts. Puzzlement. Anger. Triumph.

“Whoever is out there knows we’re inside and potentially cornered. We must escape now.”

Ice hesitated. “You must escape now. I’ll help you. Hide you and Bram. Take the Doomsday Diary—”

Sabelle gripped his hand. “You’re coming with me.”

He caressed her cheek. “No, princess. They believe they have someone cornered. If they break through our magic and find the premises empty, they will only know we’ve fled and continue chasing us. If they find me here, they may believe they’ve won and leave you to escape with Bram and the book.”

Horror crossed her face, blanched her veins. “Ice, no … You can’t. If they find you, they’ll torture—”

He placed a soft kiss over her mouth, ending her sentence. “We’ve no time to argue. Let me get you hidden. I know a place. I found it in the cellar. If I can, I’ll teleport away and meet you in the village in an hour.”

“Do you promise?”

Something resolute drifted across his face, and it scared her to death. “If I’m not there in an hour, take a car and go without me. No objection, princess. Magickind is counting on you.”

His assurance that he’d teleport away … a lie. He was going to let the Anarki take him to better her chances of escaping. And if they caught him . . .

A sob caught in her throat. Ice was sacrificing his life for hers.

“Please don’t do this . . .” Tears welled in her eyes. “Please.”

“Princess, we must go. If you’re to escape, we can’t waste time.” He brushed past her, and she watched his wide back retreat, then bend as he lifted Bram, still shrouded in the black cloud, over his shoulder. “Grab your pack. Let’s go.”

This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let this deep, passionate wizard give himself over to evil and unspeakable torture to save her.

With all her strength, she latched on to his elbow and swung him around to face her. “As I become a part of you, you become a part of me. I will be honest, good, and—”

Ice covered her mouth with his hand, his body tense, his eyes rife with pain. It killed him to stop her. So why had he?

“You don’t mean that—any of it. Speaking sacred words to keep me with you … No. For me to allow that would be dishonorable. And I won’t have you suffer should something happen to me.”

How had she ever believed that he could Call to her with revenge in his heart and mind? She felt like such a fool. She could not give him up now, especially to the Anarki.

“But—”

“We did our best, princess. We tried to escape and we failed. I love you. Know that. If you wish to make my dying thoughts happy, escape for me. Be safe.”

He turned away again, let himself out of the coach house, heading through the early dawn mist toward the manor house. He loved her? Fresh tears stung her eyes as she strapped her pack on her back and hurried after him, her stomach in knots. She was numb to the danger and the fear. But doing without him? God, the thought of it even crushed her. How had he come to mean so much to her in a few short days?

As she chased after him, her mind raced. There must be some way, any way, to convince him to escape with her. Or try. Maybe the Anarki didn’t know he was here.

But in the next moment, as she ran after him across the iced grass and it crunched beneath her feet in the ghostly fog, she sensed the Anarki’s thoughts. Zain’s thoughts and voice, calling out for Ice. Somehow, Zain had identified Ice’s magic.

She scanned the protections they had placed around the house.

A new horror rolled over her as she jogged to Ice’s side. “You covered my magic with yours? They cannot sense any magic except your spell. Why? You put yourself in danger.”

Ice cut her a sidelong glance. “I did what was necessary to protect you and ensure Mathias never hurts another woman.”

And then he was off again, striding into the manor house. She followed, her thoughts flying … but she was out of options.

She raced to him again. This time, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face inches from hers. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Please … Don’t go. I th-think I love you too.”

“That thought will be the reason for my last smile. Thank you.” With a caress of her cheek, he wiped away her tears with his broad thumb. “Now down to the cellar. They’re getting closer.”

They were. Sabelle could feel them—a collective evil quickly unraveling the magic they had laced around the estate in their hurry and exhaustion.

“Ice, you can’t sacrifice yourself like this.”

He plunged into the cellar and flipped on the light, wincing as the magical mine’s dark magic zeroed in on him again. “I would do anything to keep you safe, and I pledged long ago to kill Mathias. With any luck, the Anarki will capture me and take me to him. They fear me, and Mathias will want me brought to him alive. That’s all the chance I need to fulfill my mission and allow you to escape.”

“Why?”

He pushed a huge dusty sofa away from the stone wall, revealing a square stone opening. Kneeling, he drew Bram off his shoulder and eased her brother inside the hole. “Get in.”

“Ice . . .”

A crash, a slam, a mass of footsteps on the floor above them. The Anarki flooded into the manor and quickly spread out.

“Now, Sabelle. Time is running out.”

“Come with me!” she cried.

With a shake of his stubbled head and a tight jaw, he shoved her inside the hole, then conjured water. Instantly, it flooded the cellar knee-deep.

“What are you doing?”

He shook his head and picked up the stone block to lock her and Bram in. “Use your magic to lift Bram and travel the tunnel to the village. Take a car. Be safe. Do not come after me, Sabelle. Promise.”

He staggered back. The mine’s destructive energy would weaken him quickly. If he had any hope of escaping the Anarki, he would need all his strength. She had to let the stubborn wizard go.

But it was so damn painful.

“Why are you willing to give your life for the chance to kill Mathias?” She latched on to his wrist, holding back her tears.

“Ask Bram. He’ll explain.”

Then Ice pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. Before Sabelle could pull him into the space with her, he shoved the stone back into the wall, shutting out her view of his beloved face and most of the light. She heard the scraping of the sofa across the floor and the tug of something else dragging across the stone. A rush of cold water and a blast of cold air later, she understood. He hadn’t simply blocked her exit; he’d frozen it.

Finally, lone footsteps faded away. The slam of a door resounded with finality.

Ice had left the cellar and gone to meet his death.

CHAPTER NINE

SHE HATED THIS PLAN. The Doomsday Diary and her brother had to be protected; that went without saying. But Sabelle knew she could fight. She refused to simply let the Anarki take Ice from her.

Taking the wand from her pack, she moved Bram and the diary beneath the tunnel’s narrow stairs. It provided little cover, but hopefully enough for the moment. It was a big risk, she understood. But magickind could not afford to do without a warrior any more than it could be without more Councilmen. And she wasn’t at all certain her heart could tolerate life without Ice.

Somehow, some way … she feared she truly had fallen in love with him.

Digging through the pack, she extracted MacKinnett’s transcast mirror. The dead Councilman’s blacked-out symbol on the glass reminded her of the gravity of the situation. She couldn’t hesitate or falter.

Quickly, she pressed the symbol to reach Sterling MacTavish. Another calculated risk. He had never believed Bram’s assertions that Mathias had returned from exile and had again gathered the Anarki, but she prayed that one of his nephews had shaken some sense into the elder and he was now willing to send Lucan and Caden her way. It was the only hope she had.

Stomping footsteps overhead reminded her that time was short. Scuffling, running. A shout like a battle cry. Ice!

As Sabelle’s ears rang and her heartbeat roared, Sterling’s aging face came into view. Gray hair and beard. Same piercing blue eyes his nephews had inherited. Silvery brows lowered when he saw her in MacKinnett’s mirror.

“Sabelle Rion?”

“I haven’t much time,” she whispered. “The Anarki attacked Thomas MacKinnett. He was burned to death in his cellar. All his human servants murdered, the women raped.”

Sterling sighed. “Not you, too. First your brother … Where is he?”

“With me at Thomas’s house. We’re hiding, and Bram is unconscious, felled by some spell of Mathias’s a few days past. Sterling, you must listen to me. The Anarki have returned. Right now, Isdernus Rykard is fighting them alone—”

“Won’t be the first time. When Mathias was alive, the nutter attacked their quarters by himself and killed nearly a hundred.”

She’d heard rumors about Ice, but nothing concrete. Were they true? only a madman would raid Mathias’s compound alone. They fear me, and Mathias will want me brought to him alive. Ice’s words haunted her. Yes, they’d bring him in alive … so they could kill him slowly, with maximum pain.

Above her, she heard the slamming of doors, more shuffling. She heard grunts of pain, shrieks of terror. Sabelle held in a gasp.

Ice’s battle roar rose above the din. He wasn’t going down without a fight. But what was one man against so many? If Sterling’s story was true, he’d had the element of surprise in his favor before. Now, he had no one but her.