Page 3 of Possess Me at Midnight
The human redhead stands beside her wizard mate, Caden, who is Lucan’s brother. The two men exchange a glance I don’t have the energy to decipher.
I shake my head. “I’ll be all right. I appreciate your concern.”
“Are you sure?”
Somehow, I manage a wan smile. “Something smells good. Thank you for cooking.”
“Come eat so you can get back to Bram.” Olivia shoves a plate into my hands and gestures toward the spread of food on the sideboard. Roasted hen, a flaky white fish, even a beef Wellington, along with an array of vegetables and breads. The gesture touches me all over again, pricking my eyes with tears.
“Thank you so much.” I sniff, blinking to hold back the tears.
“Eat.” Lucan pushes me toward the food as he accepts a plate from Sydney and stands behind me protectively.
Absently, I dish myself a few spoonfuls of everything. I’m not hungry. Even the thought of food makes my stomach turn. But I tell myself that every bite is nutrition that will help me be nursemaid to Bram. Nothing else matters.
Behind me, the others plate up. I settle into my usual chair. Lucan sits directly to my left. Marrok and Olivia settle in at the far end of the table. Caden and Sydney plop down beside Lucan.
The Doomsday Brethren’s newest member, Tynan O’Shea, sits glumly across from Marrok and picks at his food. His vengeful thoughts blare past my mental barricades, along with his grief over his intended mate’s murder by Mathias. Both kill his appetite. I have no trouble understanding why.
Beside me, Bram’s chair at the head of the table sits empty. The realization that he might never again occupy it hits my chest like a blow. I lower my fork and look at my plate, now blurred through my tears.
The thought of losing Bram isn’t merely devastating to me as his sister—it would be catastrophic for all magickind. Without his leadership, the Doomsday Brethren might splinter. And without his political savvy, Mathias will overrun our feckless and cowardly Council. My brother isn’t just fighting for his life; he’s the linchpin holding together our entire resistance. If he falls… I can’t bear to finish the thought.
“Sabelle.” Simon Northam, the Duke of Hurstgrove, approaches slowly.
Until the formation of the Doomsday Brethren, Bram and Duke hardly knew each other, but despite his lofty human rank, he’s been a solid member of this fledging resistance from day one.
I take a moment to swallow my tears, then raise my gaze. Being born a Rion, everyone expects me to lead by example, tamp down my fear, and move on. Bram, most of all, would demand it. For my brother, I’ll stay strong.
“It’s all right. I’m well.”
Duke nods, dark hair looking uncommonly shaggy, as he sets his plate on the table and eases himself into Bram’s chair. I swallow an urge to jump up and rail at him. He cannot usurp my brother’s place!
“Would you rather sit here, or shall I?” he asks softly.
The angry wind leaves my sails. I take a deep breath, common sense prevailing. The group needs a leader, and Duke occupying Bram’s chair signals that he’s willing to take the job.
“You. I’m no warrior, and I’ll have my hands full with Bram’s Council business. I have to hope the others haven’t realized…” Or they would try ousting him from his hard-won seat. Thank goodness the Council isn’t in active session right now. So with any luck, the other members aren’t paying close attention to their mirrors. I haven’t heard from any of them about his darkened crest, so perhaps they haven’t noticed. But that won’t last forever. I’ll need to spin some story, stave them off. It’s a risky approach…and the best I’ve got.
With a nod, Duke casts me a sympathetic gaze, a silent promise of support, then looks down the table. This is for the best. Mathias is weakened, but in no way defeated. The Doomsday Brethren have to stay together and remain strong.
A subtle shift in the room’s energy draws my attention. Marrok straightens almost imperceptibly, while Tynan’s expression darkens further. Even Lucan, beside me, tenses slightly. I follow their gazes as Duke opens his mouth to speak when the last of the warriors sits—directly across from me.
Ice.
Towering and powerful, with his dark hair shaved close to his scalp and those unnervingly intense green eyes that seem to strip away my defenses, he exudes danger in every line of his warrior’s body. His penetrating gaze fastens on me like a blowtorch, scalding hot and undeniable—entirely different from the gentle warmth of Lucan’s touch. Despite my better judgment, my breath catches. My skin tingles. He’s my brother’s enemy…but I can’t seem to look away.
Oh, god…
Chapter
Two
Though fearsome and reportedly insane, since becoming a member of the Doomsday Brethren, Ice has been on his best behavior—around me, anyway. Hardworking. Polite. Even-tempered…mostly. But the constant staring and the naked desire on his face tie my belly in knots. He’s a puzzle that, against my will, I feel utterly compelled to solve.
His fierce expression makes me wonder precisely what he’s thinking. Oddly, he’s one of the few people whose mind I can’t read. I’ve tried. Nothing. Wondering what’s in his head drives me mad. The one time Ice put his arms around me to heal Sydney’s injured friend, Aquarius, was arousing. Combustive.
And oh-so-forbidden.
