A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7)

by H. P. Mallory

  “Hmm,” I started, shaking my head. “Funny, but I don’t see it that way. At all.”

  “Let us cast our caution to the wind! Let us ignore fortuna and the voice of destiny! Let us tempt fate, and see where it will take us!” he heartily suggested, suddenly wide-eyed and hopeful. I was waiting for him to burst into song and dance.

  “I kinda think this is our destiny, Bram,” I answered with a shrug.

  “What is our destiny?”

  “This moment right now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I shrugged again, all the while knowing he wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of my mouth. “Maybe we are exactly where we were always meant to be,” I replied, sensing the truth of my words. “Have you ever thought that?”

  “I do not believe we are pawns of fate,” he answered immediately, even shaking his head.

  “Because you don’t want to believe it,” I scolded him and then added, “And on that note, I believe we have exhausted this conversation.”

  Bram narrowed his eyes at me, and a split second later, he was standing right in front of me. He stood so close, I could feel his cold breath on the tip of my nose. His unexpected appearance startled me so much that my breath caught in my throat and it was all I could do to swallow it.

  “Confess that you feel nothing for me,” he whispered. I was vaguely aware of his hands when they encircled my upper arms, but I wasn’t sure if the icy temperature of his skin or having such close contact was responsible for the goose bumps that appeared up and down my arms.

  I immediately closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted was to fall victim to his power and influence. “I could never allow myself to feel anything for you, Bram,” I admitted almost sadly. “Even though you don’t possess a moral compass, I do.” When he didn’t respond, I swallowed hard but forced myself to continue. “But all of this is a moot because I’m in love with someone else.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, and I wondered what he was thinking. I didn’t dare open my eyes to look and see if I could get a clue, though, because I didn’t trust him.

  “You fear my eyes,” he said.

  “Yes,” I admitted, continuing to squeeze mine shut tight. “I don’t want an instant replay of the last time we got into this situation.”

  “Perhaps that is wise. I doubt seriously if I would have the strength of mind I exhibited then.” He tightened his hold on my arms briefly before releasing them altogether. At the sound of his footsteps, I opened my eyes and noticed he’d retreated a few steps. His back was now to me and he was again facing the painting.

  I could finally breathe a little more easily.

  “I must admit how I hate this constant combat in my mind where you are concerned,” he said, and his voice was deep and low. “It exhausts and fatigues me. Sometimes, I fear it will be my undoing.”

  “I think you’re being a little bit dramatic, Bram,” I interrupted.

  “Not in the least,” he replied without bothering to turn around. He was quiet for a few seconds that seemed to drag on because I was at a loss for what to say or do. In general, I wasn’t adept at dealing with emotional situations. And Bram was probably the most emotional man I’d ever encountered. I didn’t know how to speak his language.

  “Never have I known such sorrow as what I endured at your father’s library when your life slipped away and I held you in my arms. The heartache, the pain …” he started.

  “Yes, well,” I interrupted before clearing my throat. I wasn’t at all comfortable with this conversation. I could feel sweat beginning to bead on my lower back and forehead. “I survived that ordeal, obviously.”

  It was actually a miracle that I was even here and having this conversation with Bram because he was right, my life had slipped away in his arms. After thinking I’d killed my father, he’d truly had the last laugh when he shot me in the back. The bullet had been dragon’s blood which entered my bloodstream immediately and killed me within seconds.

  I was fully convinced that I’d really died because I’d traveled to a place that existed beyond Earth and the Netherworld. I was sure it had to be the afterlife since I saw my mother there and she’d passed away when I was still a young girl. My mother, who’d told me it wasn’t my time to go, insisted that I fight the poison flowing through me, and fight to live. So I obeyed her and did exactly that. I’d fought harder than I’d ever fought for anything. And I’d been victorious.

  I don’t know how or why I managed to defeat death, or how I was able to come back after being struck with a dragon blood bullet. They were notorious for killing Netherworld creatures in seconds …

  I just chalked it up to a miracle and left it at that.

  “Yes, you did survive,” Bram agreed, turning to face me over his shoulder with a sad, little smile. “However, the memory of that evening still haunts me, and refuses to release my tortured mind from its clutches.”

  I was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds and minutes ticked by. I didn’t want to recall my own death, much less the impact it had on Bram. Conversations like those were futile. All they did was frustrate us both, and for very different reasons.

  “I never got the chance to thank you for everything you did for me, and for the ANC,” I told him. It was a subtle attempt to change the subject again.

  “Every action I have ever taken or not taken has only had one purpose,” he stated as he turned to face me. His eyes were narrowed into an angry and determined expression. “That purpose is to benefit myself at all costs.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I replied, shaking my head.

  Bram definitely strove to secure his own preservation, no doubt, but I found it hard to believe that every action he ever took was only to benefit himself. Not when he’d had such a huge hand to play in dethroning my father and in helping me, in general. And, truly, Bram had always been there for me. Not just in this most recent situation, but for as long as I’d known him. I’d always been able to count on him.

  “Believe what you will,” he announced loftily, “but my reasons remain the same. I am and always have been, purely motivated by my own self-interest.”

  “Then how do you justify your feelings for me?” I asked. I really preferred not to return to this touchy subject, but I saw no way around it, if I wanted to prove my point. “How do you rationalize your actions when they were specifically designed to help me?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever I did for you is no different. It, too, came from a place of selfishness and self-serving.”

  “How so?”

  “I wish to possess you,” he announced flatly, and his eyes bored into mine. “Yes, I can think of nothing else but being inside of you, although there is so much more to it than just that. I want to own you, to know I can take you whenever and wherever I choose. I want you to belong only to me.”

  My eyebrows arched of their own accord because I couldn’t say his response pleased me. Not at all. “I am not that type of woman. Nobody can or will ever own me,” I said flatly. “I belong to myself. End of story.”

  “I fully realize that,” he replied with a deep sigh before his attention fell to the floor. “Perhaps that is the foremost reason I desire you so much as I do.” When he looked up at me again, his fangs were slightly indenting his lower lip. “Very little in this world exists that I have wanted and not taken.”

  “Maybe it’s time for you to start getting used to disappointment?” I summed up with a hesitant smile and a quick shrug. I was hoping a little levity might lighten his somber mood.

  “I prefer the word Disappointment to be absent from my vocabulary,” he retorted with obvious irritation.

  “You can’t always get what you want, Bram,” I replied. “Just listen to The Rolling Stones ‘cause they wrote a song about it.”

  “Saying I have possessed anything I have ever wanted is not limited to material assets and wealth,” he continued as he started walking toward me. “Every woman I have ever chosen and wanted has
been mine, both in body and soul.”

  “And, yet, as soon as you get what you want, I’m sure you grow bored with it just as quickly.”

  “Yes,” he admitted immediately, nodding, despite a frown that appeared on his face. “That is the irony of life, do you not agree?”

  Wanting to finish this conversation so we could turn to other topics, I decided to try another angle. “Yeah, that’s ironic but maybe you’re looking at this all wrong?”

  He stopped approaching me and paused, looking surprised. “How so?”

  I shrugged. “I think it’s pretty simple. Your desire for me provides you with a quest, a mission of sorts, something to keep you occupied. And something you find challenging.”

  He nodded as he studied me. It seemed as if he were trying to remember every part of my face. “Please, go on.”

  “Just imagine if I did give in to you,” I proceeded, hoping my words wouldn’t create the opposite response from what I was going for. “Imagine if we consummated our undying love for one another.”

  “I have imagined that scenario countless times,” he answered, looking bored.

  “But you haven’t thought about it the way I want you to think about it,” I barked at him. “So stop interrupting me!” Taking a deep breath, I only hoped my words would have the effect on him I intended. “What if, after finally getting me, or possessing me, or whatever you called it, what if you grew bored with me? Then you no longer would have a quest, or a goal. The challenge would be over and done with. And where would that leave you?”

  “I could never grow bored with you,” he protested, shaking his head as if I’d suggested something completely absurd.

  “Just think about it for a minute, Bram,” I persisted, since I didn’t believe him for a second. “Everything is handed to you on a silver platter; you said so yourself.”

  “Nothing has been handed to me,” he corrected me. “But I always achieve that which I pursue, so yes, I see your point.”

  “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe your undying fascination with me has very little to do with me and everything to do with you not having me?” I inquired.

  He quietly pondered the question, and continued to stare at me, but I could tell the gears in his brain were turning. When he finally spoke, he seemed more resigned somehow, or tired even.

  “I do not have a ready response for you,” he said. “This is a question which requires much more thought and consideration. I must admit, however, I do see your point; and it is a very salient one.”

  “And on that note, can we end this conversation for the night?” I asked, sounding hopeful. “I think I’ve been more than patient with you, Bram.”

  He nodded. “That you have, my dear, that you have.”

  “Then do I have your consent to shelve this conversation for the time being?”

  “You do.”

  “And are you willing to answer my questions now?” I asked, praying for his affirmative reply.

  “Yes,” he said quietly before taking a seat in the chair he was occupying earlier. “But please, I request that you make haste. I must admit that my mind is elsewhere. You have planted a seed in my head that I find utterly fascinating, and now, I would like nothing more than to seek an answer.”

  “Then, I won’t keep you waiting,” I replied before taking a seat across from him on the couch. As soon as my butt landed on the rich brocade upholstery, I began my interrogation. “Why did you order Jax to abduct me from Headquarters?”

  “Because I needed you.”

  “You needed me for what?”

  He eyed me for a couple of seconds and then glanced up at the portrait of me. He studied the painting for a good while before facing me again. Without a word, he stood up and seemed to be totally out of his element, somehow. He seemed like he was uncomfortable. I’d never seen him like this before, so naturally, it gave me cause for pause.

  “As you are already aware, the Netherworld is in a state of flux,” he said while knitting his fingers together behind his back. He started pacing forward and reminded me of Sherlock Holmes. All that was missing were the funny hat and a pipe.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “The ANC prefers one of their own to take the position as leader, of course,” he went on, crossing his arms over his chest. “But the potions rings have other ambitions.”

  “I know all of that,” I interrupted, eager for him to cut to the chase and get to the parts I didn’t know.

  “Jax?” he asked, and I just nodded. Bram smiled and shook his head. Staring at the floor, he continued, “Jax has the unfortunate problem of talking too much.”

  “Anyway,” I prodded, anxious to get back to the point, “where do you stand in all of this?” A split second later, I guessed the answer to my question. “You, yourself, prefer to assume my father’s role as Head of the Netherworld, don’t you?”

  “No, I do not,” he protested immediately.

  I narrowed my eyes and studied him. “Do I have ‘idiot’ stamped on my forehead?” I asked, shaking my head as my irritation turned to anger. “I thought we had enough respect for each other to tell the truth, Bram.”

  “I am telling you the truth,” he insisted. “I have no interest in becoming the new Head of the Netherworld. I dwell in the shadows, far from the limelight.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” I asked, shaking my head because his reply didn’t make sense. Well, only insofar as he liked to stay away from prying eyes. Bram was always a loner. And an ultimate mystery. It seemed his hand was in everything, but never obviously or specifically. And he always covered his tracks. It wasn’t so much that he preferred to remain in the shadows as he was the shadows.

  TWELVE

  “I have never aspired to be in the public eye,” Bram admitted. “I have always enjoyed positions of supreme power, but they were primarily behind the scenes, and never before an audience.” He paused and took a deep breath, which was all for show. Then he smiled at me in that way of his that made me feel like the mouse to his cat. “I choose to be the puppeteer, never the puppet.”

  “That’s all fine and good, Bram, but it doesn’t explain anything,” I argued with him, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but suddenly the temperature seemed to be increasing in Bram’s drawing room. No fire burned in the hearth and I imagined the central heat wasn’t turned on, seeing how little it mattered to Bram. I guessed it was just me. Maybe my conversation with Bram was causing my blood to boil …

  “What does it fail to explain, my pet?”

  “It doesn’t explain why you want to take over all the portals connecting the Earth to the Netherworld. If you truly had no interest in assuming my father’s role as Head of the Netherworld, what purpose could you possibly have in trying to secure all the portals? It doesn’t make any sense.” I paused for a second or two, but when Bram didn’t respond, I continued. I already had a pretty good idea what his answer was. “On the face of it, it looks like the purpose would be to ensure that Caressa never gets to take her rightful place as Head of the Netherworld.”

  “I fear I have no alternative,” Bram answered with a sigh, indicating he was bored with the conversation.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” I railed at him, angry that he had the gall to give me such a lame response. I’d thought he and I were beyond this by now. “Bram, the day you have ‘no other choices’ will be the day I find ogres attractive.”

  “Now who is being dramatic?” he said, a smirk on his lips. “And I trust at present you do not find ogres attractive. May I ask your opinion of vampires?”

  “Vampires are fine and good, as long as they’re telling me the truth,” I snapped, spearing him with a determined expression. “And when they aren’t being honest with me, they’re better off dead.”

  Throwing his head back, he chuckled while I continued to eye him impatiently. Lucky for him that he was finding this conversation so amusing, because I couldn’t say I was. Frustrating and infuriating, mayb
e, but hardly amusing.

  “I do love it when you tease me with your sharp tongue,” he answered after he stopped laughing. Then he took a few steps toward me, narrowing his eyes and his fangs lengthened.

  “It’s all completely unintentional,” I replied in a bored tone.

  “All the better,” he responded with his eyes glued onto mine. “There is nothing more enticing than prey who never realizes she is being watched, stalked and hunted.”

  “I hardly consider myself your prey, Bram,” I said with a frown before inspecting my fingernails.

  “You are fae,” he retorted with a shrug, “and I am vampire.”

  “So what?”

  “You are the deer to my wolf.”

  I glanced at him, knitting my eyebrows together with skepticism to let him know I wasn’t amused and, furthermore, that I also didn’t agree with his comparison of me to a deer. “I am not now, nor will I ever be, anyone’s prey.”

  “Perhaps you could prove your theory,” he replied, his eyes dancing with excitement. “How do you suppose you would fare against me in hand-to-hand combat, my pet?”

  I shrugged. “Pretty well. I have magic.”

  “And I possess extreme speed, tremendous strength, and the magic inherent in my eyes,” he answered loftily. “Were our skills put to the test, I believe you would be outdone, captured and, ultimately, at my mercy.”

  “Well, here’s to hoping we never find ourselves in that situation,” I replied glumly.

  “There is nothing more tantalizing than a chase,” Bram replied, ignoring my previous comment. “And I can think of nothing more rousing than the thrill of chasing you.”

  “Speaking of the chase,” I started, as I stood up, feeling exasperated. “Why don’t we cut right to it?” His scowl was his only response, so I continued. “You and I have always been honest with one another—and that’s the only part of our … bizarre friendship that I’ve always appreciated.”