Page 104 of Possess Me at Midnight

“I’m famished,” Bram says.

I’m not, but I nod. “Please.”

“I’ll…scrounge up some food. Lucan, why don’t you come along and ask the others what they’d like to eat.”

MacTavish hesitates, studying Sabelle’s face before he sighs. “Of course.”

What is she up to?

Everything inside me demands I follow her and ensure Lucan keeps his distance from her, be the only wizard to share her morning, her table, her bed, her life… But after making a fool of myself moments ago, I push down the urge. Logic. Lucan isn’t going to Call to her. And as long as the remaining Council members believe I’m not allied with Bram, Sabelle can’t be mine.

But her stare pleads with me. Suddenly, I understand. She wants me to extend an olive branch to Bram and let the healing begin.

My stomach balls up. Be the first to apologize to the “friend” who slammed the door on my last hope of avenging my sister? Who put me in my proper place with a few well-placed words centuries ago? Then again when I Called to his sister? The wizard who, even now, is standing between me and happiness?

Sabelle asks much of me.

With a last beseeching glance, she and Lucan disappear, closing the door behind them. The finality of the click resounds in the cavernous space between me and Bram. I stare at my nemesis. What the hell can I say? Virtually anything will be construed as a ploy to slither my way onto the Council or into Sabelle’s life. Both attempts will be spurned.

Bloody hell, I haven’t used my diplomatic skills in nearly two hundred years. Once, Bram said I had promise in politics. I excelled at speech-making. After Gailene’s murder, I let rage and hopelessness bury that promise. Now, as then, one wizard stands between me and salvation.

Fuck.

“This is bloody awkward,” I mutter.

Bram’s gaze zips in my direction. “I don’t like it.”

“Me, either. But your sister is very clever.”

For the first time since waking from Mathias’s spell, he laughs. “Truer words are rarely spoken.”

Silence ensues again, and my thoughts race. Once conversation between us was easy, friendly, full of joking gibes and pranks. Now? I’m not sure how to proceed.

“I…never thanked you for keeping my sister safe,” Bram says into the silence, sounding almost grateful.

Those were the last words I ever expected him to say. They nearly knock me over. “It was my privilege. Whatever you think of my feelings for your sister, they’re genuine. She is my heart. I would give my life for hers.”

Bram doesn’t look moved. “I would skin you alive for touching her, but she would flay me open with her sharp tongue. Besides, the issue now is MacKinnett’s open Council post.”

With a few words, Bram tells me he won’t entertain the notion of Sabelle Binding to my Call. Politics and necessity can blur lines of anger and enmity but not love.

God, will I finally have everything I’ve ever sought two hundred years ago, yet watch the mate who owns my heart slip through my grasp?

Fists clenched, I restrain the urge to shake some sense into Bram. But the more I rail, the more he’ll dig in his heels. And with this spell altering his temper and mood, he’s more unpredictable than usual.

Someday, Sabelle…I will find a way to you.

I’ve waited two hundred years to avenge Gailene. If I must, I’ll wait for another two hundred to have Sabelle as mine.

“It is,” I agree. “I want to be clear: I didn’t put your sister up to nominating me.”

“I’m aware this was all Sabelle. I know the little minx.” He rubs the back of his neck, then sighs as if he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I should probably thank her. It’s a brilliant plan.”

Bram’s tone tells me the admission nearly killed him.

I repress a smile. “I find she’s quite full of those.”

“Always has been. From the time I met her, she was beyond mischievous. Had a way about her. Her siren beauty, maybe.”