Doomsday Brethren, Book 04: Entice Me at Twilight

by Shayla Black

  “While you do, you have no argument with Lucan.”

  “He shouldn’t be here.” He tensed, clenched his fists. “Near Felicia.”

  Was Lucan really a threat to her? Bram didn’t behave as if he was. But why else would Hurstgrove be over protective? Did she matter to him because Mason cared for her? Or because she mattered to Hurstgrove in some way? That possibility shouldn’t excite her. He was everything she shouldn’t want. But as much as she tried to push the feeling away, it settled deep in her chest.

  Down that path lay dangerous heartbreak. She refused to suffer Deirdre’s torment.

  “Lucan is not yet stable enough for battle, and I must involve him or he truly will go mad. You know what losing Anka has done to him. Perhaps now you have a new appreciation for what he’s endured.”

  Suddenly, the blond man turned her way. When Felicia saw his pointed stare through the driver’s window, she whipped her gaze back to the deserted lane.

  Settling a hand on Hurstgrove’s shoulder, Bram murmured, “Here comes Lucan. Talk to him. You know what Marrok says about effectively fighting Mathias if we’re too busy fighting amongst ourselves.”

  Hurstgrove turned his dark eyes to her. His frustration and heat blasted her all the way to her toes.

  “I won’t leave her unprotected,” he insisted, arms over his chest.

  “I’m right here. We will draw more attention if you and Lucan brawl in the middle of the lane. Go bury the hatchet.”

  Hurstgrove growled something, then walked away.

  Felicia shoved the car door open and climbed out. Bram darted around the auto and blocked her.

  Planting a palm on his hard abdomen, she pushed him aside. “What the devil is going on?”

  “Good morning to you, too.” Bram smiled tightly. “Thank you ever so much for eavesdropping. I see your mood isn’t any better than his.”

  Felicia glared in return. “Nor is it likely to improve until I get some answers. I want to know what’s going on and when I can go home.”

  He stilled. “Duke hasn’t told you?”

  “Not a bloody thing.”

  “Damn it.” Bram stood tall in the foggy mist, looking tense, his gaze darting suspiciously all around. “Not here. Not now. Do you want clean clothes?” He held up the bag.

  Felicia snatched it from him. Black trousers, a warm sweater, trainers. Even a new pair of knickers.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Thank my sister. Sabelle is pure genius when clothing is involved. Want to change now?”

  Absolutely. Though the dress was heavy, its lace did nothing to block the biting wind. And since they’d stopped, black clouds had rolled in. Drizzle now fell, along with the temperatures. “Where?”

  “Backseat. I’ll turn away. Lucan and Duke are too far to see you. The windows are tinted. There’s no one else in sight.”

  Clean clothes sounded too good to resist. “All right. I … I’ll need help with my buttons.”

  At Bram’s nod, she turned. He sighed at the little row of satin buttons and set impersonal hands to them, never touching her skin. When he was halfway through, a scowling Hurstgrove approached at a furious gait, planting himself between her and Bram.

  “Problem?” Amusement laced Bram’s voice.

  “Get your bloody hands off her.”

  “How did you expect her to change into these clothes without help? I’m guessing, since some of these buttons are hanging by a thread, that you unbuttoned them last night?”

  Felicia’s face heated as she remembered what happened next.

  “Don’t touch her,” Hurstgrove thundered beside her.

  “I asked Bram to help,” she offered.

  Bram gave off a superior smirk. “Do you want him to finish or shall I?”

  She glanced between the two men. No contest. “You, please.”

  With a curse, His Grace retreated one very small step. His gaze burned her back as Bram bared it and she climbed into the car.

  Keeping her back to them, she changed in the cramped space, feeling instantly better equipped to handle whatever happened next. She folded her wedding dress into the bag and stepped out.

  “Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on now? Who exactly is this Mathias and why does he want me?” Felicia supplied.

  “It doesn’t matter. Let me handle this for you,” Hurstgrove insisted.

  Slamming his fist into the car, Bram cursed. “Are you mad? She needs to know.”

  His Grace looked as if he restrained a violent urge. “The more she knows the more dangerous it is.”

  “I can’t fight what I don’t understand!” she objected. “This is my life and—”

  “You’re not a warrior. I am.” He grabbed her arms tightly. “It’s my mission to protect you.”

  Felicia frowned. So he’d said. But why did he care?

  “You risk her more by keeping her in the dark,” Bram said solemnly. “She stands a better chance of survival if she understands who’s after her and why. She may not be able to fight, but fast thinking may mean the difference between life and death.”

  Hurstgrove sent Bram a snarling glare. He muttered a four-letter word that made her wince. “This isn’t your decision.”

  “When Mathias comes knocking again, it will be too late. Think about that.”

  Moments later, Lucan sidled up to them. He approached Felicia only long enough to hand her a fruit-filled pastry and coffee in a paper cup. And stare at her with a haunted blue gaze.

  “We’re done here,” Bram said. “Get to Ice’s caves quickly. Lucan will ride with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Hurstgrove objected.

  “Your exalted title leads you to believe you get to make the orders. You knew who was in charge when you joined us.”

  His Grace looked ready to tear someone’s head off. “This isn’t wise.”

  “She needs all the protection possible. I had a dream last night of Felicia. With Mathias. Very unpleasant.”

  Bram told the truth, and Felicia shivered. He’d dreamt something frightening about her and the man who wanted to kill her? If Mathias had destroyed a five-hundred-year-old chapel in a matter of moments, he’d have no trouble destroying her.

  Hurstgrove blanched as if he’d seen a ghost. If he’d been concerned before, now he was downright paranoid, his gaze dissecting every part of their surroundings, looking for hidden shadows.

  “Do your dreams ever come true?” she asked Bram.

  Bram met her stare directly. “Always.”

  Another unpleasant truth. Damn.

  “Then you have my cooperation.” Fear clutching her insides, Felicia grabbed Hurstgrove’s arm in one hand and Lucan’s in the other. “Let’s go.”

  By midday, Hurstgrove parked the car near the side of a hill. Just over the rise, the sounds of the crashing ocean carried on the wind. The brisk scent of salt and the winter chill stung Felicia’s nose.

  As she reached for the door handle, her stomach jumped. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the remote location, or Hurstgrove’s taciturn mood, but foreboding washed over Felicia. She suspected her life was about to change forever.

  Hurstgrove yanked the keys from the ignition but didn’t open the door. Instead, he clenched his jaw and jabbed her with a furious stare. “I don’t want this for you.”

  “Mathias isn’t going to rest until he’s found me, yes?”

  “He’s relentless.”

  “The sooner we deal with this, the sooner I’ll have my life back.”

  Hurstgrove shook his head. “What we’re about to tell you will shock you, and I wish I could spare you—”

  “But you can’t.” She resisted the urge to curl her fingers around his hard shoulders and absolve him of guilt. “I can handle it.”

  “You’re strong,” Lucan said from the cramped backseat. “Excellent. You’ll need it.”

  Together, they left the car, Hurstgrove standing close, his gaze raking the landscape around them with a watchfulness that made
her tense. Lucan crowded her other side, doing the same.

  Moments later, a group oozing testosterone emerged to the blustery day from the mouth of the cave, Bram at the front. How had he beaten them here? That mental transportation he’d alluded to at her wedding? Why hadn’t they used it with her?

  She also recognized Ice from her wedding, along with sword-wielding Marrok. With them were three other men she’d never seen: one with Lucan’s blue eyes but an easier mien; a big, dark-haired bloke with gray eyes like a storm cloud; and a smiling fellow with striking green eyes.

  “Who are they?” she whispered.

  “Let’s get inside where it’s safer, and I’ll explain.” Hurstgrove didn’t sound happy.

  Felicia approached the small crowd, and Ice led the group into the caves. Hurstgrove followed closely behind, ruffling her hair with his hot breath.

  The door shut behind them, and warmth enclosed her. The caves, while sparse, were surprisingly homey.

  “Some of us, you know. The others …” Bram pointed to the blue-eyed man beside him. “This is Caden MacTavish, Lucan’s younger brother. Tynan O’Shea.” He gestured to the stormy one, who stared stoically. “And half of the trouble twins, Ronan Wolvesey.” Mr. Green Eyes nodded. “Raiden, the other half, is out taking care of an urgent matter.”

  “Hello,” Felicia said to the small cluster of men, then turned to Bram. “Now, tell me everything I need to know.”

  Before he could say a word, four women filed in. A classically beautiful brunette with stunning indigo eyes introduced herself as Olivia. Next, Felicia met Sydney, a plucky redhead who exuded intelligence. Then Kari, who swung long, pale curls over her shoulder as the diamond in her navel twinkled in the lamplight. Finally, Ice approached another blonde, this one so dazzlingly gorgeous, Felicia’s jaw dropped.

  The woman threw herself into Ice’s arms, and he enclosed her in an embrace. His kiss was so gentle, Felicia could hardly believe it had come from such a fierce male.

  When he lifted his head, Ice smiled. “My princess.”

  This must be Sabelle. Feeling as if she’d just witnessed something intimate, Felicia looked away.

  Until Sabelle approached Duke and hugged him. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”

  Hurstgrove kissed her on the forehead, his touch brotherly. “Thank you for your concern.”

  He wasn’t moved by the woman’s beauty at all? Felicia frowned. Of the two of them, Sabelle was by far the more stunning. Hurstgrove didn’t seem to notice.

  Sydney crossed the room and gave him a mock sigh. “Still can’t get rid of you, I see.”

  Hurstgrove smiled wryly. “You’re stuck with me.”

  “A pest to the end. Why am I not surprised?”

  Their camaraderie shafted Felicia with a bolt of envy. Hurstgrove liked these women, respected them. The fact she’d never once exchanged an easy word with him chafed her. He wanted her but didn’t like her? Or only wanted her because Mason did?

  She shoved the ugly thought aside.

  A moment later, Caden approached the sassy redhead and tilted her face to his for a lingering kiss.

  “You’re a flirt,” he accused softly, brushing a kiss over her lips.

  “Mmm. If flirting gets me treatment like this, I’ll do it more often.”

  “Perhaps I need to take you over my knee, firecracker,” he whispered.

  Felicia doubted anyone else in the room could hear them. But standing right beside them, she couldn’t miss their by-play.

  The brunette made her way over to Marrok and looked at him as if he was her moon, sun, and stars all in one. He returned the silent sentiment—along with a good dose of heat. They whispered to each other. Felicia couldn’t hear, but their devotion was obvious. In fact, it was all around her. She’d never spent time with couples actually in love. Alexei hadn’t loved Deirdre. Her adoptive parents hadn’t been in love, either.

  Part of Felicia envied their closeness, which made no sense. She didn’t want love, didn’t want to lose herself as her sister had … and yet, there was something so compelling about the obvious commitment these couples shared.

  Hurstgrove settled his hand on her waist, above her hip. She jumped at his touch, and swung her gaze over her shoulder. Desire glowed in his eyes.

  Sabelle approached her cautiously, then shot a stunned glance to Hurstgrove. “Wow. I can’t believe you actually found—”

  Hurstgrove shook his head and sent the woman a warning glare.

  Felicia wanted to scream. “What are you hiding from me? What is going on?”

  “This one speaks her mind,” Kari drawled. “A woman I can relate to.”

  The other women snickered.

  “You guys better start talking,” Olivia said with a smug smile.

  “Quickly.” Felicia tried to keep the impatience from her voice. “I’ve already discerned that you’re not human.”

  Smiles all around the room fell instantly. The air seemed to stop.

  “How long have you known?” Bram demanded, jaw nearly scraping his toes.

  She bit her lip. “Since he abducted me.”

  “Hence the twenty questions in the car last night.” Hurstgrove winced.

  “How did you guess?” Bram snapped.

  “Little clues,” she said noncommittally.

  Felicia had long regarded her built-in lie detector as one of her defenses. The only person she’d ever confessed its existence to was dead. She wasn’t giving up the truth to a roomful of people she hardly knew.

  “So what are you?” she demanded.

  “I’m human,” Sydney offered softly. “So is Kari.”

  “As am I,” said Marrok.

  Felicia’s gaze raked over the others. They were the only humans here? Must be; no one else said a word. She let out a deep breath.

  “After my quaint game of dodge-the-question with Hurstgrove, I know that you’re not vampires, lupines, demons, zombies, or elves.”

  “Simon,” he growled. Again.

  “Correct,” Bram said cautiously.

  Now they were getting somewhere. “In fact, I’m fairly certain that you’re magical.”

  “Smart girl,” Ice groused.

  “Smarter than I realized.” Hurstgrove sent her a long, measuring glance.

  She pressed on. “I assume Mathias is magical? And why have I never seen any of you perform magic?”

  Bram and Hurstgrove exchanged another glance. The blond man backed farther into the cavernous room and sat on the aged greenish couch. The others followed suit, each choosing a place to sit in the craggy stone room filled with hodge-podge furniture. His Grace rubbed his palms on his trousers and approached her. He took her hand in his.

  A thousand volts of pure sexual energy shot up her arm. She jerked away.

  Everyone watched.

  “You needn’t break it to me gently as if someone has died. Just tell me.”

  He nodded, his dark hair falling across his dark eyes. “Sydney, Kari, and Marrok aside, we’re witches and wizards. The wizards comprise the Doomsday Brethren, who fight Mathias and his Anarki army. He hides behind a cloak of helping magickind’s lower class, the Deprived. But it’s crap. He steals souls to build his army and kills innocents for their life force, all to overtake magickind. God help us—human and magical alike—if that happens.”

  Felicia took in Hurstgrove’s words, heart racing. Every word he’d said was pure truth.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to the obvious question, but couldn’t afford to bury her head in the sand. “Why does he want me?”

  Hurstgrove hesitated, then looked to Sabelle. “What did you find?”

  “I’m still checking a few things … but Raiden recently uncovered a family tree that gives me every reason to believe your deduction is accurate.” The beautiful witch looked at him with apology.

  “Thank you, Sabelle. Keep digging and let me know—”

  “What deduction?” Felicia demanded. “Don’t talk around me like I’m a child. T
his is my life.”

  He cursed under his breath. “As far as we can tell, you’re an Untouchable. Someone who completely dampens all magic near them.”

  Again, the truth. And this explained why he’d never performed magic around her. “You tried to …”

  “Use magic?” he prompted. “Yes, I did. Bram did, as well.”

  “And I,” Lucan admitted.

  “Last night, while we guarded the house you slept in, I tried a few spells,” Ronan admitted. “She’s completely effective for a bit more than two hundred meters. Impressive.”

  Ice whistled, clearly astonished.

  Hurstgrove glared at Ice, then approached her in the silence. “Untouchables are born only every thousand years to a very specific bloodline, and since you’re adopted …”

  “The timing is right,” Sabelle supplied, rising from Ice’s lap. “As is the location. Her effect on your signature and the description of her ability is spot on. I’m trying to determine her birth parents now.”

  Felicia froze at those words. “They didn’t want me; I don’t want them.”

  Sabelle held up her hands, placating. “I understand. We just want to be certain you’re actually the Untouchable, and not merely a human with a few unusual abilities. Though as long as Mathias believes you are, the facts may be irrelevant.”

  It was all honest truth, even if lies would have been more believable. The whole thing should have been impossible. Everything felt surreal, like a misadventure happening to someone else. Felicia couldn’t wrap her head around it. Panic began to creep in.

  “Why would Mathias want someone like me to suppress his magic? Does he view me as a … weapon? Does he seek to use me against all of you?”

  Hurstgrove paused. “Ever heard of Morganna le Fay?”

  She nodded. “King Arthur’s half sister, according to lore. A witch, yes?”

  “Aye,” Marrok piped in. “A more evil bitch has never roamed the earth.”

  Hurstgrove leaned in. “He became a tad bitter when she cursed him to immortality and took away his ability to … well, it’s not important. Mathias needs you to enter Morganna’s tomb. He seeks to resurrect her and control her power to further his terrible cause.”

  “Why does he need me to bring this dead witch back to life?”

  Bram and Hurstgrove shared another glance—and she didn’t like their secrecy one bit.