Page 49 of Possess Me at Midnight
Nineteen
My heart slams against my ribs as I plunge down the cellar stairs. I thrust my candle aside, Ice’s tortured scream echoing in my ears.
The cellar lights reveal a nightmare: Ice slumped against the concrete wall, straining, twitching—fighting some invisible battle. Sweat beads across his face and head, despite the cellar’s chilly air. He claws at his thighs, the tendons in his neck standing out like steel cables as another scream tears from his throat—raw and full of agony.
“Ice!” I rush to him, skidding to a stop at his side. “What happened?”
He shudders as he wraps his arms around his middle. Then, straining with effort, ice begins flowing from his fingertips. He digs under his sweater, reaching for bare skin. I push and shove at the jumper to help until it’s around his muscled torso. My hands come away warm and sticky with his blood.
Teeth gritted, he applies ice-coated hands to his abdomen. The muscles ripple and tense as the first blast of cold hits his bare skin. He roars out in pain.
I try to tamp down panic, but I’m terrified…and far more worried than Bram would approve of. “Tell me.”
“Magical mine,” he gasps out.
Oh, god. I didn’t even consider the possibility Mathias might lay such a trap. Its energy is likely still fixed on Ice. I have to get him as far away from the weapon as I can. Now. Magical mines can be fatal within minutes, and the longer he stays near it, the more likely it is to kill him.
“Where is the source of the mine?”
He’s fighting to stay conscious. “The. Body.”
MacKinnett himself? I dig quickly into my pack and grab my wand. “I have to move you. It’s going to hurt.”
He sends me a shaky nod. “Do it.”
Biting my lip, I flick my wrist. Ice’s prone form rises a few inches above the floor. Immediately, he roars out in agony. Hearing him suffer hurts me.
Using my wand, I direct him away from the corpse, out of the cellar, and up the stairs as fast as I dare. One of the bedrooms in the house would be closer, but since all the furniture has been destroyed, every bed is in shambles. So I lead him through the ruined foyer and the wreckage of the kitchen, then out toward the coach house behind the manor.
The December night bombards us with cold from all directions. The air smells of impending snow. At first, Ice shivers at the icy wind whipping around his body. Then slowly, he relaxes.
The magical mine was all but cooking his insides. No matter how unpleasant, he needed the outdoors’s chill to recover.
Fighting the urge to rub my freezing hands together, I linger for Ice’s benefit.
“You must be freezing. Inside,” he rasps through chattering teeth.
“Don’t waste your energy arguing. You need this.”
Ice grunts. Seconds tick by, then minutes. His breath clouds the air. Finally, he draws his icy fingers from his stomach and forms fists at his side.
My hands have long since begun to rattle from the cold, never mind my numb fingers.
With an absent nod, I use my wand to urge his levitated form closer to the coach house.
“I’ll. Walk,” he demands with a cracking voice.
“You will do nothing until I discern how serious your injury is.”
“Princess—”
“That growl may intimidate others. I’m not listening. You can shout at me later. Now, I’m taking you to safety.”
He mutters something and winces before finally grabbing his legs as if warding off fresh pain. Foolish man wants to walk? Stubborn man. He has far too much pride…
I welcome the anger and sense of purpose. Right now, those feelings are all that stand between me and complete, screaming panic. Magical mines have been known to kill more often than not.
The thought that he might perish hits me like a physical blow. Not because if Ice dies, I’ll be alone in taking the Doomsday Diary to safety. I’m crafty and know enough to blend in with humanity, should I need to, at least until I can reach Duke or one of the other Doomsday Brethren. But the idea of being without Ice, of never seeing him again…
