Doomsday Brethren, Book 04: Entice Me at Twilight (40 page)

“Dear God!” Mason cried, then looked at Mathias with
murder in his eyes.

“Not a word,” he warned. “It would be very bad for her health.”

Mason stifled a snarl, but seethed with fury.

Pain was a delayed reaction. By the time her blood began to drip, the tingle at the incision became a deep burn. Felicia hissed.

“All for a good cause,” Mathias crooned, then turned to Mason. “Tip the bottle under her hand and collect her blood. Now!”

He complied, looking at her with deep apology in his eyes. And rage. He wanted Mathias to pay.

A few minutes later, Mathias pocketed the knife, then took the bottle from Mason’s hand and peered her way again. “Now put the stopper in place.”

Felicia couldn’t control her trembling hand as she capped the bottle. Mathias now had everything he needed to resurrect Morganna except the book. She knew exactly what he’d say next … and she had no way to stop him from killing them all if she complied.

He raised a golden brow to her. “The diary. Give it to me.”

She hesitated, her mind racing for
any
solution to this dilemma. But she was utterly blank.
No!
She must forge ahead and hope some opportunity presented itself.

Suddenly, Mathias raised the gun to Simon again, aiming this time for his heart. “Give it to me now or he dies.”

Felicia’s breath froze in her body. Her heart nearly stopped. Somehow, she had to stall for time, see if she could buy their freedom with her life.

“You’ll let Simon and Mason leave alive if I give it to you now?”

“Of course,” he drawled. “You’ll find I can be very agreeable.”

The stench of his lie nearly overpowered her. She staggered back, clutching her stomach. Not only was he never agreeable, he’d kill both men on the spot as soon as he had the book.

Oh God!

There was no help for it. She was going to have to catch Simon’s gaze and hope he had the strength to use his magic. Hopefully, she could find some way to give him the strength.

Felicia gave him a shaky nod. “G-good. I’ll … get you the book, then.”

She was a terrible liar, and hoped sincerely that he couldn’t see through her or she was doomed.

Shrugging off the heavy rucksack, she dropped it to the ground and turned toward Simon to unzip it.

She risked a clandestine glance at him. He was pleading with his eyes for her not to give Mathias the book.

She did her best to send him a placid smile, then mouthed
I love you.
He froze, then his eyes flooded with love … and regret.

They weren’t going down like this. Together, they’d fight, damn it.

For a brief second, she placed a hand over her heart. Then she closed her eyes and consciously removed all of her barriers.

A split second later, he gasped, startled. Hope rushed inside her. Could he feel her naked soul completely open to him?

“What the hell are you doing? You’re taking too long,” Mathias insisted, then pointed the gun at Simon again. “Give me the book now.”

With shaking hands, she dug through the pack, looking for the Doomsday Diary under all her clothes, packaged meals, and toiletries. Buried at the bottom, sandwiched between two of Merlin’s other books, she spotted it.

She dragged out the other items unnecessarily, hoping that Simon would try his magic. But she must produce the book now.

That didn’t mean she had to hand it over nicely.

With a glance over her shoulder, she saw that Mathias sent Simon a menacing glare. He was looking forward to pulling the trigger.

It was now or never.

Suddenly, she turned and lunged at Mathias, throwing the diary at his hand—the one that held the gun. Mathias cursed his surprise, and when the book struck him, his weapon clattered to the ground.

Felicia felt a presence around her, inside her, something big and protective, hopeful and pure. And love … God, so much of it, Felicia was nearly overcome. It brought tears to her eyes.

Simon!

As she lowered her barriers to welcome him, the ground began to shake violently, walls heaving. The ceiling overhead rumbled, and tiles shattered. Rocks fell.

Mathias steadied himself with a hand on the wall, then sent a sharp confused glare to Simon. “Magic? How are you using yours? Impossible. Shock never mentioned this.”

Felicia didn’t take the time to celebrate. She crept along the wall toward Simon.

“Run!” he shouted at her and Mason. “Get out of here.”

And leave him here alone to die? Never.

Mathias growled as he lunged for the gun again while more of the ceiling rained down. He pointed it at Simon, who concentrated too hard on rattling the tomb, trying to bring it down, to notice.

Felicia jumped toward him, but the shaking room sent her off balance.

To her surprise, Mason charged Mathias, kicking him in
the gut. The wizard doubled over with a grunt, clutching himself. Then Mason clasped his hands and chopped down on Mathias’s back. The wizard dropped the gun once more and staggered to his knees.

More of Simon’s energy and spirit filled her, pure white-hot heat … and love. The tomb quaked harder, throwing Mathias off balance.

Felicia turned to Simon with a smile. It died when she saw him shudder violently with effort. He looked pale and was panting. Blood and sweat covered him.

Larger chunks of the ceiling fell directly over Mathias’s head. One struck Mason’s shoulder. With a grimace, he clutched it in agony.

Just as Mathias rose to his knees.

Mason planted a hand in her back and pushed her toward the door. “Simon is right. Go!”

Felicia stumbled, stopping her momentum with her hands on the door. She wasn’t leaving until they could escape with her. And if she left now, would Mathias attain his magic again? Too risky.

She glanced down at Simon. He contorted with effort, teeth clenched, exhausted. She had to help him.

The ceiling rattled ominously, but she caught sight of metal barely a meter away.
The gun!

She lunged for it, grabbed it in her shaking hands, and spun to see Mason kick Mathias square in the chin. The wizard tumbled to the ground.

He rose to his feet again, glowering at Mason with murder in his eyes. Felicia didn’t know what he had planned—and didn’t want to know.

Gathering her courage, she lifted the gun, aimed—and shot Mathias in the chest, right in the heart. The blast of the bullet knocked him flat on his back, sprawled out in a
death pose.

Felicia turned to Simon and skidded to a stop on her knees. Though still using his magic, she sensed it weakening, sensed him waning fast. He looked spent, at death’s door.

She cupped his face. “Simon! It’s enough. Let’s get out.”

“You … first,” he mumbled.

Mason knelt beside her. He covered his head as more of the ceiling fell and shouted, “We’ve got to run for it.”

She wasn’t leaving without Simon. “Help me.”

Suddenly, the ceiling on the far side of the room caved in completely, tumbling a deluge of heavy stone and broken tile on top of Mathias. He grunted, then fell silent. If the bullet hadn’t killed him, she hoped to God something had hit his head hard enough to finish the job. But one glance at Simon told her they couldn’t stop to be sure. He needed medical attention now or he would die.

Simon’s presence left her suddenly. He fell dead still, looking pale as a specter. Though the rumbling around them stopped, the avalanche of the ceiling continued like a line of dominos, rolling ever closer to them.

Her heart stopped, and she screamed at Mason, “We have to get him out of here!”

Mason didn’t hesitate. He lifted Simon and staggered toward the door. Felicia picked up her rucksack, frantically searching about for the Doomsday Diary, but saw no flash of that red cover amongst the rubble.

The roof just to her left caved in. Adding in a terrified scream, she darted for the door, opening it for Mason and Simon. They rushed out, and she followed, slamming it behind
her, leaving Mathias behind.

She prayed he died in that tomb, if he wasn’t already gone. If not … She didn’t want to think about that. Hopefully, given the fact Mathias was wounded and had no way out, he would soon die.

And he would remain trapped here forever.

Her biggest concern now was Simon.
Please God, don’t let him die trying to save me
.

F
ELICIA WALKED THROUGH THE
blustery Monday afternoon. The wind whipped insistently at her trench coat, the trees around her, the grass beneath her feet. She tried to keep herself focused on the moment … but Simon crept into her thoughts. Again.

Mason had carried his brother out of the tomb, which turned out to be significantly easier to leave than enter. After finding Bram and the others at the pub there in Glastonbury, they’d taken one look at Simon’s waxy face and asked what had happened. She’d explained in a rush, and they’d hustled her above stairs to a room, shoved her in bed with him, and told her to stay put. A wizard healer had come and gone without much improvement in Simon’s health.

He’d nearly died. Bram hadn’t spelled that out for her, but she knew. Once Simon had used up all his magic in the tomb, Felicia felt the loss of connection to him—and she’d known he was hanging on by a thread.

For a feverish night, she’d held Simon, kissed him, told him over and over how much she loved him. He’d remained largely unconscious, barely responsive to her affection until deep in the night when he’d rolled over and made love to her wildly, with a passion that stunned her, before sliding back into a deep sleep. In the morning, Bram’s Aunt Millie had appeared. Though Simon still slept on, the older woman pronounced him “right as rain.”

After breakfast, Ice had appeared to teleport Simon and Mason back to Kari’s pub in London. Bram piled her into the car for the long drive back and drilled her with a million questions about the events in the tomb. His agitation had
only increased with every kilometer.

Once she arrived in London, she asked to see Simon repeatedly. Finally, Sabelle had appeared and, looking as if she stifled her pity, had said he’d be detained for a few days.

Felicia could only find one translation for this behavior: her reluctance to admit that she loved him had nearly gotten him and Mason killed. Simon might be mated to her magically, but he didn’t want to see her right now, maybe never. He probably despised her. Not that she blamed him.

God, she’d become her own self-fulfilling prophecy. She’d been so terrified that she’d lose her man that she’d driven him off with her behavior.

As Felicia shoved her hands in her coat pockets and walked on the little stone path, regret pounded her. She should have let go of her fear sooner. Right now, she’d give anything to see Simon again with love in his eyes, that amused little smile on his mouth, just before he kissed her.

Would that ever happen again, or would he merely use her to keep his magic charged and eschew anything more emotional? Or would he go back to surrogates and keep her at arm’s length. If that happened, she’d do whatever necessary to stay with him, fight to make him see how very much she loved him and no longer wanted to live without him.

But she was painfully aware that she couldn’t force him to truly be with her simply because she now wished it. That hadn’t worked with her parents or with Deirdre. But this time if she lost, she’d have no one to blame but herself. As she stepped through the slightly soggy grass in jagged little rows, Felicia fought back tears.

After long minutes, she stopped at Deirdre’s headstone and knelt to place the yellow daisies she been clutching.

“Hi, D. I brought your favorites, daises. I miss you.”
She sighed. She did miss her sister—every single day. “I’m sorry I … stayed away for so many years. When you left me, I-I didn’t know what to do. I wish you’d have let me help you. But I know now that you didn’t want to feel the pain anymore.” She choked back a nearly overwhelming surge of tears. “I’ll be coming to visit more often. Hope that’s okay. I love you.”

“She had a different path to take,” said a familiar voice behind her.

Felicia whirled to Mason. “How did you find me?”

He shrugged. “Bram put a GPS chip in your car, hoping you’d drive it at some point. He’s been looking for you for days.”

She rolled her eyes. Why didn’t that surprise her? Sure, Bram was smart and brave, a born leader. But he could be a manipulative bastard.

“Is Simon all right?”

A sad shadow darkened Mason’s eyes before he looked down, nodded. “Fine.”

But he didn’t want to see her. If he did, he’d be here. And really, she didn’t blame him.

Soon, she hoped to talk to him, try to make him see exactly how much she loved him. She refused to give up without a fight, but … when she looked over the past few days, she saw so many moments when she’d evaded and hesitated. God, how she regretted them now.

“Where have you been since Friday?” Mason asked.

“My flat.” She shrugged. “I figured Simon would call if he healed and he …”
Needed me to share his bed
. Would he ever want her for more again? Could she convince him?

He’d loved her once; she knew that. But would he ever trust her to be his mate in every way? The question had haunted her for the last three sleepless nights.

She took Mason’s hands in hers. “I couldn’t have carried Simon out of the tomb, and he would have died without you. Thank you for saving him. I’m sorry you were dragged into all that.”

He gaped at her as if she was mad. “As you were. The two of you saved me. I could never have saved myself from Mathias.”

“I’m sorry about …”
Betraying you, not loving you, falling for your brother
. “Everything.”

He nodded, his conservative dark hair moving with the breeze. “You love Simon?”

“Yes. I won’t even ask if you’re angry and hurt.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the engagement ring she’d taken off what seemed like a lifetime ago. “You really deserve someone who’s marrying you because she’s madly in love with you. Not because you make her feel safe.”

Mason clasped the ring in his fist. “You’re right. I wanted you so much and … I behaved badly when I didn’t get my way. I hope you can forgive me.”