Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren 4)

“If you don’t wish to assist me openly, tell me the location of Mathias’s compound. I’ll go there myself and find some way to free Ice.”

The tight smile disappeared beneath an ominous scowl in seconds. “Don’t be stupid. You know the fate you’ll suffer. And if you’re not convinced it’s a terrible one, I’ll wake Anka so she can talk to you about the joys of Terriforz.”

Sabelle shuddered at the reminder of Mathias’s mentally controlled rape. Anka wasn’t the same witch she’d been before Mathias’s abduction and abuse. The strong, sparkling female who adored her mate had been replaced by an angry, skittish witch who had left Lucan in favor of the wizard before her. Anka hadn’t finished dealing with her experience, and Sabelle could only hope that her friend’s cohabitation with a wizard of Shock’s low caliber was somehow helpful and temporary.

“Low caliber? Tsk-tsk,” Shock mocked.

Damn it, she had to remember to bury her thoughts.

“That would help,” he added. “But the truth is, I’m not certain I can help you. I refuse to send you to Mathias. Alone, he would kill you like a pesky fly—quickly and mercilessly. And in case you’re securing the information of Mathias’s whereabouts for the rest of the warriors … well, I don’t think he would appreciate me giving away the location of his new lair.”

“Help me. Please.” She wasn’t above begging, and if it would help Ice, she would plead all night long.

“A Rion begging me. There’s a sight no one would believe.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked, wishing she could stare into his eyes and read his thoughts. But as always, those blasted sunglasses ensured she saw nothing. “Tell me what you wish for, and I will find some way to grant it if you will help Ice.”

“You have nothing I want. Not now . . .” He cocked his head. “The time may come, however. Or maybe not. Your three minutes are up. Go.”

oh God. Shock was going to throw her out, and she was no closer to securing his agreement to help. “Will you help me?”

Shock shrugged. “I see no reason for you to go near Mathias’s compound. Or for you to return here. So don’t.”

With a mental shove, Shock forced her out the door and back into the nearly frozen December air. On the surface, it seemed that Shock would not lift a finger to help her … but with Shock, one never knew. Would he assist Ice—or was she on her own?

Sabelle returned to Sterling’s estate, dejected. She really had believed that Shock was doing his part to assist the Doomsday Brethren, even if he didn’t come when called or like to admit that he was one of the good guys. He’d even explained his frequent absences to Bram a few weeks earlier as keeping up appearances for Mathias’s sake. But it seemed that, as soon as the warriors had shown Shock open doubt about his loyalties, his attitude had become less clandestine double agent and more “fuck off.”

Trying to block out the fact that Ice would likely die soon, she pushed open the door to the room she’d tucked Bram into shortly after arriving, the one beside hers. Olivia sat next to him, perched on the edge of the bed. Sydney sat in a nearby wing chair, a phone pressed to her ear.

“Thank God you’re back. What happened?” olivia asked, her dark hair hugging her shoulders, violet eyes bright with concern.

Nothing she wanted to discuss. She simply shook her head and mumbled, “Dead end. How is my brother?”

Sabelle could see for herself that Bram was unchanged, and the truth pierced her heart. Bram was slowly dying. If anything, his skin looked more gray today than yesterday, and she wondered what, if anything, would cure him. She performed a few quick spells to keep his body hydrated and functioning. But there was nothing more she could do.

With a glance at Sydney on the phone, Sabelle turned back to olivia. “Has she been able to locate the mysterious Emma yet?”

As soon as she finished speaking, Sydney rang off and put the phone down with a clatter of finality. “I spoke with Aquarius. Emma is, apparently, an old school chum of Aquarius’s. You’ll recall she received the Doomsday Diary from Emma just before giving it to me. After uni, Emma moved to Manchester. They lost touch. Emma turned up one night very nervous. Afraid. She shoved what she called a magical diary into Aquarius’s hands and said she should hide it. She seemed to think it had something to do with the series of articles I’d been writing for Out of This Realm. But Emma refused to say more.”

“Lovely history lesson,” Sabelle grated. “How do I find the woman now? Bram might recover if we could locate Emma.”

“Aquarius has been looking since the first time I called. But it’s as if Emma has disappeared. She used to work for a human who dealt in rare antiquities. But her attempts to reach him have been unsuccessful. She peeked into the store’s windows and saw only clutter and chaos. I wonder if Mathias found him whilst looking for the book?”

Yes, that was possible. Even probable, since Mathias had been following the little magical book closely. Could Emma be inside the shop? Possible, but if she was dead, Bram’s signature would reflect his loss, and so far, hints of Emma’s personality shone in earthy greens and browns inside the bold slashes of Bram’s magical signature.

The woman was alive somewhere, and Sabelle had to find her.

“I’m assuming Aquarius has tried to call Emma directly?”

“Oh, a hundred times. Number’s been disconnected.”

Of course.

Reality hit Sabelle square in the chest like a battering ram, and she caved into the pressure for a few precious moments. Bram’s unstoppable journey to an untimely death, Ice’s imminent peril, magickind’s danger—all because of Mathias. She hated that wizard for what he’d done to her family, her friends, her society. If, by some miracle, she managed to save everyone who mattered to her, she would hunt him down with every bit of her determination and do her best to slaughter the bastard.

“It’s all right.” olivia hooked an arm around her shoulder, and Sabelle realized only then that she’d begun crying.

She brushed her tears away with impatient fingers. “No time for this now. I have to keep searching, hoping, trying . . .”

“You need sleep. It’s nearly midnight.”

There was no possible way she would sleep, knowing that Ice was enduring hell—if he was still alive.

“I’m fine. I need coffee and to talk to Duke. Are they still belowstairs?”

Olivia looked like she wanted to argue, but nodded. “I’ll stay here with your brother. He was a good friend to me when I first moved to London. I miss his smart-ass remarks.”

Though Sabelle had often cursed them, she did as well. “Find me if there’s any change.”

“I’ll keep trying to reach Emma. Someone, somewhere, knows where this woman is.”

Yes. She just hoped that someone wasn’t Mathias.

As soon as Sabelle loped down the stairs, she found a group of angry warriors waiting for her. Damn, apparently Sydney hadn’t talked fast enough to keep her out of trouble.

Duke and Marrok had the look of concerned fathers. Caden and Tynan both looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. And perhaps she had. Raiden and Ronan Wolvesey, whom she had not seen in seventy-five years, smirked, clearly not at all surprised to see that she was in trouble. And Lucan … she winced. Pure rage, and not that of a parent, brother, or friend. He was taking a more personal interest in this evening’s event.

“We overheard Olivia and Sydney talking. You visited Shock?” Lucan exploded. “Without telling any of us and letting us accompany you?”

“Without allowing us the opportunity to talk some sense into you?” Duke raised a dark brow that suggested a bit of common sense would be in order.

“This is precisely why. I’m neither a child, nor stupid, and being female does not make me helpless. I had a gut instinct that Shock would not hurt me, and I was correct. Unfortunately, he was also no help, so—”

“Shock may not have been, but I am.”

Sabelle whirled to the sound of the witch’s voice. There Anka stood beside a dark-colored figure. Sabelle cast a guarded glance at Lucan, who remained on the far side of the room, arms over his chest, gaze firmly on the wall behind Sabelle’s head.

Giving her former mate a wide berth, Anka approached Sabelle. “Shock told me of your visit, of Bram’s condition. I insisted he find someone to help Bram.”

Could anyone actually help her brother? “If Shock knew anything about the spell that’s felled Bram, he didn’t say so.”

Anka lifted a dainty shoulder, her blond curls sliding across her back. “That’s Shock’s way. He doesn’t say even half of what he knows. Sometimes, I can get him to talk.”

Sabelle bet she knew exactly how the lovely witch enticed Shock. A glance across the room at Lucan showed that her former mate had reached the same conclusion and was angry enough to spit glass.

“He told me about a healer. A dark one. She may be the only one who can help Bram.” Anka gestured to the figure beside her.

A dark healer? Sabelle hesitated. She wanted her brother well, absolutely. But someone who dabbled in the dark arts … dangerous indeed.

On the other hand, what awaited Bram if she failed to act except certain death?

“Bring her up to see him.”

“Sabelle!” Lucan snapped.

She flipped her gaze in Lucan’s direction. “He’s my brother, and whatever has passed between us gives you no right to gainsay me when it comes to my own flesh and blood.”

Lucan rushed across the room and grabbed her by the arm. She stumbled down a stair, right into his chest. “I should take you over my knee.”

“Try it and lose a hand.”

Refusing to hear more on the subject, she wrenched away from him and marched upstairs. Anka motioned to a little black-hooded woman who followed moments later. Sabelle cast a glance over her shoulder to see Lucan and Anka exchange a pained glance.

At the top of the stairs, she showed the women into the spacious blue-hued bedroom Bram occupied. Anka hovered in the doorway. The black-hooded witch darted immediately to the bed. Sabelle wished she could see something of the woman under the hood, but the lighting and her disguise ensured she saw nothing of the witch’s face. There was something so familiar about the witch’s magical signature, but she was too exhausted to place it.

The woman’s dash across the room gave Sabelle the impression of youth and urgency. But then she sat slowly on the bed at Bram’s side, which made her seem very old indeed. Long moments passed before the witch took Bram’s hand in her own.

Sabelle would be lying if she said she wasn’t both curious and skeptical. She knew many of magickind’s dark healers—or knew of them. She had no idea which of these dabblers in the dark arts had come and was currently latched on to her brother.

“What is your name?” she asked. “I’d like the honor of knowing the kind soul who is helping my brother.”

The witch stiffened, and Sabelle had the distinct impression that she fought the urge to face her. Instead, she murmured, “My name is not important.”

As answers went, that wasn’t helpful. “Have you ever seen a spell such as this?”

She shook her head. “But I know what must be done. Leave us.”

Leave her defenseless brother alone with a dark healer sent by Shock, whose loyalties were questionable at best? “Impossible.”

“Shock said this witch will know exactly how to heal Bram, but we must let her do her job without protest or interference.”

I’m certain he did. “And how do we know Shock has Bram’s best interests at heart?”

“I vowed to him that if something ill happened to Bram, I would take it out of his hide.”

Sabelle wanted to take Anka aside and ask if her friend was well and happy living under Shock’s roof, in Shock’s bed. The difference between being Lucan’s mate and Shock’s lover must be extreme. Lucan had always treasured Anka, put her first, provided well for her, encouraged her. Shock … Well, Sabelle didn’t see him being the warm, fuzzy type.

Anka read the question in her eyes and turned away. Sa-belle sighed. Just as well. Tonight was about Bram. Pray God this worked.

“If I do nothing, Bram will die, so I’ve no other choice but to leave him here with you.” She teared up, hating to show her weakness to another. “Please help him. He’s . . .” Her father, her brother, her best friend all rolled into one. “He’s important.”

The small hooded figure nodded. “Return at dawn. I’ll do all I can by then.”

Then Anka left the room. Nerves flaying her insides, Sa-belle followed suit to wait.

Dawn neared, Sabelle sensed. It was, perhaps, an hour or two away. She couldn’t sleep. She strained to hear any sounds in the bedroom beside hers where the mysterious witch had locked herself in with Bram. She’d heard a cry, the woman chanting Bram’s name, her brother moaning. Nothing more in the last hour.