Page 55 of Possess Me at Midnight (Doomsday Brethren #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I wrack my memory, but… “No. What does that mean? What does it do?”

“What do you think?”

I grit my teeth. “Did you come here to play twenty questions or to help?”

Shock shrugs. “Depends how entertaining you lot are this morning.”

Despite my best effort, the bastard gets under my skin. It’s all I can do not to throttle him. I know why Bram asked him to join the Doomsday Brethren when he began the group, but honestly… I think it was a mistake.

“You’re entitled to your opinion,” Shock drawls. “I really don’t care.”

Why did you come if you’re not going to help? I let the words fill my head, knowing he’ll hear them.

“Who said I wasn’t going to help?” Shock shrugs, the leather of his jacket creaking with the move.

Bram rakes a hand through his hair, sharp eyes turning progressively darker. “Stop toying with my sister and fucking talk, or I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life.”

“You can try.”

“We’re not here to amuse you,” Ice finally cuts in. “Unless you want magickind destroyed, we need answers.”

Shock heaves an exaggerated sigh, like an overburdened parent whose kid asked for a bedtime story.

He tilts his head toward Bram’s seething expression, his smile razor-sharp.

“The Devouring Shadow doesn’t merely wound the body; it fractures the soul—right down the middle, severing the light from the dark. Guess which half is winning?”

A cold knot forms under my ribs. “What are you saying? That…that black cloud?—”

“Proof the spell took. It works in two ways. First, the unconsciousness allows the cleaving of the soul to begin while ensuring you can’t fight back.

Then, the dark half begins feeding on the light.

Darker impulses like anger, cruelty, and ruthlessness take over.

” Shock’s casual tone makes his revelation even more chilling.

“And now that I’m awake?” Bram demands, his knuckles white against the heavy, dark table.

“The dark healer who came gave you enough light and energy to choke off the smothering black cloud. But inside? The soul split is still in full swing. If you don’t find a way to repair it…” He shrugs with infuriating nonchalance. “Your light half will die.”

I’m stunned. Horrified. Afraid. “Can we…exorcise it?”

Shock snorts. “He is it. He can’t banish himself. Every time he loses his temper and lashes out? The shadow sinks its claws deeper into him and hastens the damage.”

“How long before it overtakes him?” Ice’s voice rumbles with barely contained horror.

“Depends how quickly he allows the rage to eat at him. Weeks. Months, if he learns some fucking restraint.” He smirks at Bram’s seething expression. “But that seems unlikely.”

Bram’s chair scrapes against stone as he lunges forward. “Are you saying there’s no fix for it? That this is fucking permanent?”

“Tsk, tsk. What did I say about controlling your temper?”

My brother lunges at him, threatening to come across the table and throw punches. Ice and Lucan haul him back and shove him into his chair.

“Bram, stop,” I insist. “You’re proving his point.”

Shock just laughs. “Fix a sundered soul? Who knows if it can even be done. You’ll need something that forces light and dark back together.”

“Like what?” Bram bites out.

“I don’t know.” Shock turns even more mocking. “Sacrifice? Hope? Love’s true kiss?”

Bram scoffs, but he’s gone pale. I see the flicker in his eyes before he shutters it.

I lean forward, my voice barely steady. “And if we can’t figure it out and heal him?”

Shock’s smile is pure poison, and his words are just as toxic. “Then Mathias gets exactly what he wanted. Either a monster who wears your brother’s face…” His pause is perfectly timed for maximum impact. “Or him six feet under.”

The sharp intake of my breath echoes in the sudden silence. Ice mutters a quiet curse.

Bram’s expression looks murderous, but he drags in a shuddering breath. “What is this spell? Where did it come from?”

Maybe knowing that will tell us where to find the cure…if it exists.

“It’s old magic. Filthy magic. Ripped from old grimoires when wizards used soulcraft to turn good men into monsters.

Mathias probably rediscovered one and customized the spell.

It doesn’t kill but lets the victim live long enough to destroy everything good around and inside him.

No banishments or blessings will fix this.

Bram’s fighting himself now—and he’s losing.

” Shock’s smile turns predatory. “Of course, if I were Mathias, I’d be counting on exactly that.

Nothing quite like having your enemy destroy himself from the inside out. ”

Oh, my god. How am I going to heal my brother? How do I save someone from himself?

The weight of Bram’s condition settles over the room like a shroud, but the clock on the mantel chimes, reminding us that time is running short. In a few hours, Ice will face Mathias at Blackbourne’s estate—and we still don’t know what we’re walking into.

“Speaking of Mathias,” I say, forcing myself to focus on the immediate threat. “What do you know about this challenge? What should we expect?”

“What I know about Council challenges could fill a thimble. But what I know about Mathias?” His smile turns sharp as a blade. “You can count on him having a plan and discounting the rules, if need be.”

Bram nods. “Which is why I think we need to be smart and prepared.”

“Who’s to say that he won’t take every word you say back to Mathias?” Ice stands. “How do you know Shock isn’t a traitor?”

Shock shrugs. “You don’t. But I can hear in your thoughts that you and Bram discussed the challenge and battle tactics all night. You think you’re prepared. Don’t be surprised if he does something…unpredictable.”

“Which is why I think we should be prepared to do the same,” I add.

“I don’t trust you,” Ice growls at Shock.

“I don’t care. If you want to emerge from this alive, don’t come prepared to fight. Come prepared to fight dirty.”

Ice lunges at Shock. “Whose bloody side are you on? Why come here at all, unless it’s to spy on us for Mathias?”

“Do you really have time to worry about my motives?” Shock shoots back, then heads for the door without another word.

Silence falls. Then Ice and Bram both face me, wearing almost identical questioning expressions. What the hell were you thinking? they ask. About the future. About Ice living to see the next sunrise.

“Why call Shock?” Bram barks. “Of all people, the one who’s the least trustworthy?—”

“He may have aided Ice’s escape from Mathias’s dungeons."

Bram pauses, then turns a glare on Ice, who shrugs.

“I don’t recall much, except that he left my chains loose and my door open, whether by oversight or design… I don’t know.”

“Right now, Shock’s loyalty isn’t my concern,” I reiterate. “Ice is. I must be there in case he needs me. Bram, we can’t afford to let him lose energy and thus, the challenge.”

My brother sighs, works his jaw. “I don’t like it.”

“No,” Ice protests. “There is no force on earth that will induce me to put you in that bastard’s path.”

His protective nature has often been both tender and sighworthy. Now, I just find it exasperating. “There’s no force on earth that will induce me to stay away. Come prepared to fight dirty, Shock said.”

“I will fight and be watchful for Mathias’s treachery, but I can’t risk breaking the rules. The Councilmen in favor of Mathias will be looking for any way to discredit me. I will not cheat.”

I swallow. Yes, Ice has a noble streak an ocean wide. He won’t want to win any way but fairly. Unfortunately, Mathias won’t be quite so picky.

Too bad for both him and Bram. I’m going. In fact, I’m already devising a scheme. And I’ll be prepared to fight dirty on Ice’s behalf—whatever it takes to keep him alive.

Ice

Fog rises in eerie drifts, curling around the huge wrought-iron gates of Blackbourne’s estate. The Council elder and his family think everyone else is beneath them and shut themselves off from the world. I wonder briefly if a Deprived has ever crossed these gates as anything more than a servant.

My insides knot as Bram, Sterling, Sabelle, Tynan, and I all send our magical calling card, requesting admission. Moments later, the gates slowly part. Blackbourne himself walks toward us across the brown grass, through the ghostly white mists.

“You’ve arrived.” He looks over the group with a sharp eye. “I wondered, Rion, why you brought your sister, but I see from Rykard’s signature that he Called to her. You claimed he was no ally of yours.”

Bram stiffens. “I can hardly stop him from babbling pointless words. You’ll notice that my sister has not Bound to him. Nor will she.”

“But—”

“Carlisle.” Sabelle steps forward and wraps her hand around his arm as Bram wanders off for reasons I can only guess at.

She moves through this sphere of privilege, gliding beside Blackbourne with natural grace.

It’s obvious she belongs in this rarified world.

The easy confidence in her posture, the way she instinctively knows exactly what to say…

It all drives home how far apart our stations truly are.

I’m reminded that, no matter what happens today, she’ll always fit in with these people in ways I never will.

I swallow the urge to do violence and force myself to watch and listen.

“Do you imagine that my brother is eager to see me mated to Rykard?”

My pride stings. Yes, I understand it’s in everyone’s best interest for Blackbourne to believe there’s zero chance that Sabelle and I will unite. But the careless ploy still makes me eager to prove to everyone else that Sabelle is—and always will be—mine.

“Eh…no.”

“Bram is still my guardian, so…” She smiles faintly in his direction. “Is your son Sebastian still unmated?”

“Indeed.” Blackbourne relaxes and smiles back.

I grit my teeth. I want to kiss her in front of everyone here, put my arms around her and demand she Bind to me instead of intimating that she would welcome attention from a dodgy bastard like Sebastian Blackbourne.