Page 103 of Possess Me at Midnight
Bram says nothing for long moments, merely stares at his sister with narrowed eyes and a furiously clenched jaw. I see him swallowing a verbal onslaught. He breathes through the rage I sense boiling under his skin and regards the minx with both awe and exasperation. I relate to his feelings.
“This is a moot question. The Social Order doesn’t allow Ice to occupy a Council seat. You know that.”
“That ancient resolution should be abolished. Apply the right pressure and make it happen. Don’t scowl at me. And don’t piss away this opportunity. It may never come again.”
Bram shrugs noncommittally. What the hell is running through his head?
“All right, genius. What about Helmsley Camden’s vote?” Bram raises a brow.
“Watch how you talk to her,” I growl. “She’s trying to help you and magickind, you ungrateful prat.”
“Fuck off.”
“Bram!” Sabelle chides. “Be nice, or I’ll ensure that every morsel of food you eat for the next month is stone cold.”
Sabelle’s brother huffs like he’s trying to hold back his wrath. “Camden may agree to having Lucan on the Council and give us the necessary fourth vote.”
My princess rolls her eyes—and shoves logic down Bram’s throat, proving how fierce she can be. “Doubtful. Clifden O'Shea refused to compromise his vote, and Mathias killed him for it. Why do you think Camden is still alive?”
Because he sold out. Sabelle is completely right. Again. Clever, clever female. She’s always had my respect, but today my esteem for her has risen by leaps and bounds.
“Think, Bram,” she goes on. “Blackbourne will vote for Mathias. He nominated the bastard, and not voting for him would not only be bad form but likely get him and his family murdered. But we have a chance of swaying Spencer by convincing him that there’s no love lost between you and Ice.”
Not a hard sell, really.
Bram and I exchange a glance before he scrubs a hand across his face. “I insist on talking to Camden first. We’ll offer him protection in exchange for a vote for Lucan.”
In the corner, Lucan clears his throat. “Nominate Ice. It’s a better move. Sabelle is right.”
Whirling on his friend, Bram glares like he’s a Judas. “You’re giving up, just like that?”
“No. I’m deferring to the superior plan. Think past that anger seething inside you—Mathias’s anger, I remind you—and that damned pride of yours. You and Ice don’t see eye to eye. You both felt betrayed by one another, but that was two bloody centuries ago. If we’re to prevent more bloodshed, we must use our heads.”
Easy for Lucan to say; he wasn’t stabbed in the back by this over-privileged prick. Given his scowl, Bram clearly hates Lucan’s assertion even more than I. But damn, if he isn’t right. While I have no idea what sort of Councilman I’ll make, for Gailene’s and magickind’s sake, I’ll try.
“Thank you, Lucan.” Sabelle nods at the other wizard, then regards her brother. “To confirm my suspicions, I’ll contact Camden and see where his loyalties lie. I’m sure it’s in self-preservation, but?—”
“I’ll contact him,” Bram argues.
“So you can conduct the same sort of delicate conversation you tried with Spencer?” Sabelle raises a golden brow at him. “Until you’re able to control your temper again, you should limit your conversations with others.”
“Your sister is right,” Lucan says softly, looping a casual arm around her shoulders. “You raised an exceedingly smart female.”
I can’t help it; I lunge at MacTavish, teeth bared, eyes slitted in warning. “Hands off.”
Lucan steps back, hands raised, then turns to Bram. “If you’re going to nominate him, do it via mirror where the others won’t see his signature and won’t know he’s Called to Sabelle. Unless…you let her Bind to him to give him the advantage you sought to give me.”
His suggestion stops my heart and steals my breath. It hangs in the silence. Seconds feel like decades as I turn to Bram.
“Shut the fuck up.” He rakes his hand through his hair and turns away, shoulders stiff.
He didn’t say no. Brutal hope flattens me.
I risk a glance Sabelle’s way. She meets my stare for just an instant, but that’s all it takes to feel the zing of need. My gaze turns hungry, and I wonder how to separate her from the others so I can wrap her in my arms and sink inside her again.
A little smile plays at her lips, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Breakfast anyone?”
Lucan is quick to respond. “If you’re cooking, yes.”
