Page 5 of Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren #4)

Chapter Four

Ice

A s Tynan and I are stashing the Doomsday Brethren’s weapons, the first rumblings of war shake the estate. The ceiling above thunders.

We’re definitely under attack.

Then I hear a woman scream. My blood runs cold.

Sabelle!

In a choice between preserving the hardware and saving magickind’s princess? That’s no choice at all.

After tossing aside the last few weapons, I quickly conjure thigh-deep water and douse most of our cache so they’re useless to Mathias or the raiding Anarki. Then I whirl, braced for incoming danger as I charge up the stairs.

Smoky chaos confronts me. The ceiling’s crumbling plaster rains down. But other than thick, choking haze, the corridor is empty.

“Sabelle!” I shout over and over as I stalk to Bram’s office, the library, the dining room. Broken glass crunches under my boots. All empty.

Duke stumbles toward me from the front door, a fresh gash in his forehead dripping blood down his face. “Protections are compromised. We have minutes at most to evacuate. Find Sabelle. Get her and the book away from here. Take Lucan with you.”

I hate that plan, but there’s no time to argue.

MacTavish will slow us down. Put us in more danger.

But my annoyance at dragging him along is nothing compared to my concern.

Though I’ll never hold Sabelle, she’s…everything.

For the nearly two hundred fifty years of my existence, a wizard’s urge to mate has been a head-scratching mystery.

After one look at her, I comprehend perfectly.

If she becomes Lucan’s next mate, I will endure it because he’ll treat her well. But I will sacrifice every drop of blood in my body before I lose her to that monster, Mathias.

“Have you seen her?” I’ve screamed my throat raw searching.

“Sorry…” Duke sends me an apologetic grimace before he runs toward the back of the house.

Since I can’t give up, I press on. “Sabelle!”

Finally, I hear a faint voice. “Up here.”

Another explosive boom resounds through the house, but her voice, like a siren call, lures me. I charge up the stairs and burst into one bedroom after another. Finally, I find one that’s shades of gold, all silken and sumptuous. She’s inside.

I repress the urge to gather Sabelle in my arms. She’d neither welcome nor allow it. I itch to touch her anyway, to pull her against my chest where I can shield her properly. But a Rykard can never touch a Rion. Not ever, especially since she’s warming Lucan’s bed.

Sabelle has thrown on a pair of jeans and a creamy white sweater that stretches snugly across her breasts every time she shoves something into a nearby black backpack. “I’m ready.”

“The Doomsday Diary?”

She points to the bag as she tosses it over one shoulder and darts past me, dashing down the hall.

As I race to catch up, another blast hits the house. The floor tilts sideways, and Sabelle nearly stumbles. I catch her around the waist and try guiding her toward the stairs. Instead, she rips from my grasp and sprints in the opposite direction.

What the hell?

I chase after her. “We must leave now!”

“Not without my brother,” she calls over her shoulder.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest leaving the imperious bastard to rot, but Sabelle would waste valuable time both arguing and carting Bram downstairs. The longer she stays in this house, the greater the danger. Surely, she sees that.

For the pampered princess I assumed she would be, she’s not putting herself first.

“Bloody hell,” I mutter, on her heels.

She pushes inside the last room to the left. Heavy curtains, dark wood, and luxurious damasks are a study in wealth. Clearly, this is Bram’s room. I don’t spare the time or energy to voice my annoyance at the extravagant waste.

With a flick of her delicate finger, Sabelle uses her magic to levitate her brother. If she’s determined to evacuate him, it will be easier—and conserve her magical energy—if I sling the prat over my shoulder.

As I catch her elbow, I rush past her and hoist Bram’s dead weight into a fireman’s carry. I could levitate the bastard with magic, but we might need every ounce of magical energy we have—and I’d rather haul his dead weight than risk having to seduce his precious sister for a recharge of power.

She gapes. “Are you trying to kill him? He’s very ill and?—”

“And if we don’t get the hell out of here, the Anarki will finish him off.” I seize her hand and charge out of the room. Her fingers instinctively curl around mine, soft yet strong. “Let’s go!”

Another boom resounds, much closer. Again, the whole house shakes.

Halfway down the stairs, the front door begins to groan and heave intermittently under the magical equivalent of a battering ram. Collectively, the Anarki throws energy at the house as one, trying to shatter the last of its magical protections. All too soon, they’ll succeed.

Outside, a sea of voices chant. It sounds as if Mathias’s entire fucking army is here, and the Doomsday Brethren will be lucky to get out alive. I hardly care if I don’t, but Sabelle… She matters. Magickind needs her and the Doomsday Diary to remain safe.

At the bottom of the stairs, I shove her toward the back door. “Have the Anarki surrounded the house?”

Fear rims her gorgeous blue eyes, but she bravely creeps to the windows as another rattling boom shakes the house. She’s everything worthy in a female, and if I had more time—if my opinion mattered—I’d tell her so.

Instead, I unload Bram’s unconscious form to the floor, then take up a defensive position by the front door to face the imminent, pounding threat, determined to provide Sabelle a shield to escape if the worst happens.

Marrok, Olivia, and Tynan race down the stairs. With a glance, Marrok sends Olivia to crouch beside Sabelle. The once-immortal warrior and Tynan line up beside me to face the threat seconds away from crashing through our door.

“Clear back there?” I shout.

Duke stumbles from Bram’s office and yells over the invasion. “I’ve alerted the Council that we’re under attack.”

Why? Old curmudgeons won’t do a damn thing, but Duke’s belief in the nobility of the ruling class is understandable, given his title and background.

“Where are Lucan and Caden?” Duke barks at me.

I shrug. My sole focus is to secure this door long enough for Sabelle to make it out alive with the book.

“No Anarki behind the house,” Sabelle shouts.

Hardly means they aren’t there. They could be concealed, but if the rest of the Doomsday Brethren and I wait much longer to take the women and flee, the Anarki will surround us. Escape will be impossible.

Finally, Caden and Sydney fly down the stairs. Lucan staggers behind, clutching a bleeding shoulder.

“What happened?” Duke asks.

“Flying glass,” Caden spits. “Someone can heal him once we’re safe.”

At her mate’s urging, Sydney darts for the other women. At the back door, Sabelle draws her wand, braced for a fight. I turn my body so I can see both doors with a subtle turn of my head. Sabelle won’t be the one battling for our survival. I’m determined to spare her that.

Duke lifts the creamy silken drapes covering the windows on either side of the front door.

Outside, the swell of black robes grows and grows.

They begin to fan around the house, scurrying like ants from one place to the next.

More join moments later. Then more, until there aren’t hundreds, but thousands.

Lucan and Caden exchange a glance as they fall into a battle-ready stance. The front door groans and splinters. It’s going to give way any minute. Sabelle cannot be near the hell about to break loose.

“Take the Rions and the book. Lucan can help me defend the door. As soon as you’re in position, I’ll send him to you,” Duke insists.

I want Lucan nowhere near her, but I bite my tongue. Realistically, there’s safety in numbers, and nothing is more important than Sabelle and the diary. “Fine.”

“We’ll split up to confuse Mathias, divide the Anarki forces, and make them chase us in all directions.” Duke’s face is grave with concern. “Keep the book from Mathias, no matter what. If he gets control of it…”

We all die.

I nod. “I’ll contact you when it’s safe. Where will you go?”

Duke winces when the door splinters again. Gray smoke begins to seep in, the same cloud that’s slowly killing Bram.

The warriors shout and curse as they scramble back from the insidious smoke clawing across the floor and crawling up the walls. Mathias himself is here.

Heaven help us all.