Page 63 of Possess Me at Midnight
Then I feel my entire body being propelled out the open door as if someone grabbed me by the waist and tossed me back like I weigh nothing. Moments later, I land on the icy lawn, far from the manor house, flat on my bum.
Fortitude and hot anger juice me as I shoot to my feet, teleport back to the house, and burst into the kitchen. The stillness of the room—of the house—assaults me. I fear I’m too late. Instead of using his magic to kill the last few Anarki and free himself, he spent his time and attention getting me back to safety. Those few moments of distraction allowed Zain to capture him.
No. It can’t be true. That can’t be right.
In a tearing panic, I search the house, every crevice, hoping against the odds that I’m mistaken. In addition to the servants and MacKinnett’s body, I find dead Anarki everywhere. Ice wreaked havoc on a scale that both amazes and repulses me. But I can’t spare a moment to cheer for his success. I prowl from room to room, trying to ignore the carnage, praying they’ve simply moved the fighting elsewhere.
Five minutes of howling silence and eerie stillness later, I can’t avoid the truth any longer. The Anarki have taken Ice. To almost certain death. And it’s my fault for distracting him when he should have been fighting.
The urge to fall to my knees and cry out my grief nearly overcomes me. I take a deep breath. Be strong. Magickind needs me. Bram, the Doomsday Diary, Ice… None of them can be healed, hidden, or rescued without me.
Forcing myself to sniff back tears and ignore my grieving heart, I make my way to the cellar. I have to collect my pack, my brother, and the diary, then get everything and everyone into the car so I can try to find Duke and the others. I can’t spare the time to rail or weep. Later.
And I’ll have to do it all alone since Lucan and Caden didn’t arrive in time to help. Damn Sterling. The man likely hasn’t even contacted them yet. I tried to impress the urgency of my request on him, but like so many of the elders, he refuses to hear. I shake my head, holding in the towering urge to blame and scream and weep. None of that will do me a spot of good.
I’ll have to figure out how to save Ice alone.
As I bring my brother and the pack upstairs, I hear the front door crash open. The back door follows. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by Lucan, Caden, Duke, and Tynan.
“Where—” Duke falls silent as he looks around the room with widening eyes. “Ice did this?”
Hooded and robed Anarki bodies lie strewn all over the foyer. At least fifty of them, some pinned permanently into the wall with the collection of swords that used to decorate the room. The undead drip black blood in oily rivers down their warped faces. Another stack of Anarki has been piled shoulder-high when Ice ripped the handrail off the wrought-iron staircase, then shoved them on the upthrust rails. The black blood of the undead mixes with the red wizard blood, creating a murky pool that’s slowly spreading across the floor as the bodies continue to drain. The rest of the undead met untimely ends at the business end of an ax. The wizards look in permanent states of shock, stricken where they fell.
How on earth did Ice kill so many so quickly all by himself? It’s terrible and horrific, but I’m struck by the amazing skill such a feat must have taken. Marrok would be proud.
“Zain said Ice killed eighty of them.”
“I’ll be damned,” Caden murmurs. “The Marines would love him.”
Lucan shoots his younger brother a glare, then turns to me. “The Anarki have him now?”
“Yes. We have to get him back.” My voice trembles, and it takes all my strength to hold in my emotions.
Now isn’t the time for the Doomsday Brethren to ask questions about my attachment to Ice. The clock is ticking, and every second could be the difference between his life and death. I need to persuade Lucan and Caden that we can’t do without this fierce warrior. The cause needs him. So, I fear, do I.
“We will.” Lucan wraps a gentle arm around my shoulder, and it’s all I can do not to push him and his unwelcome touch away. “They won’t kill him, at least not right away. He has information they need too badly.”
Which means they’ll torture the big, brave wizard until he… My heart weeps for Ice.
“Bram’s condition is worse.” Duke comments like he’s cursing. “And the Doomsday Diary?”
“In my pack. What will we do about Ice? We can’t leave him at Mathias’s mercy!”
Duke and Lucan exchange a glance. I know that look. Already, they’re wondering what lies between me and Ice. And they clearly disapprove. I don’t care. They should be worried about saving a fellow warrior.
But they likely don’t see Ice as one of their own, being Deprived and therefore expendable. I want to scream at their shortsighted idiocy.
“We need a plan.” Duke approaches me, the self-appointed voice of reason.
Lucan nods. “Come with us back to my uncle’s and?—”
“I can’t.” I explain that Rhea, one of Mathias’s witches, placed a spell on the book that allows it to be tracked whenever its owner teleports. “I must travel by human means. Car, train, plane…”
Astonishment transforms all four warriors’ faces.
“That makes our trip vastly more difficult,” Duke muses.
Tynan snorts. “You mean fucked up.”
