Her.

Mathias had wisely waited to make his way to the challenge ring, likely lying in wait for her. If she hadn’t needed a few moments to repair her clothes before donning them … if she hadn’t needed a few moments to repair her emotions after Ice had refused to allow her to complete the Binding … if she had even believed that Mathias would risk harming her in Blackbourne’s house . . .

“No?” he taunted, darting to the bottom of the stairs to face her. “Then come spend a bit of time with my … close friend, Rhea.”

Rhea would only do his bidding, no doubt. Now that Mathias had her trapped between them, she had to defend herself and not allow him to use her safety against Ice.

Sabelle swallowed, cursing the fact no one was able to teleport in or around the house for the duration of the challenge. Now, she’d have to improvise a plan—quickly.

Swallowing hard, she summoned her courage. Each step toward Mathis spurred another tightening of the vise around her stomach, another rev for her heartbeat. Sabelle fisted her trembling hand behind her back, then opened it as she stood before the evil wizard. She had one chance, and she had to pray her abilities would not fail her now.

Cautiously, she reached out to Mathias. Her hand was just an inch from his and she eased closer . . .

Suddenly, she felt a jolt punch her in the chest. A spell clawed pain up and down her back, radiating down her legs, out her arms. Then her limbs froze. Her whole body followed, except for her lungs and heart. Mathias held her completely immobile. And he laughed.

“I know you’re half-siren, dear. Did you really think I would let your touch sway me from my purpose? Very sorry, but no. I must kill Ice and you will help me. Now be a dear and spend some time with Rhea,” Mathias drawled. “I insist.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ICE SCANNED BLACKBOURNE’S WINTER-RAVAGED gardens. The spindle-branched trees devoid of leaves scarcely registered. Bram holding the sword and the empty challenge ring blazed across the front of his brain.

“Where is Mathias?” He approached the Doomsday Brethren’s leader.

Bram looked him up and down, then growled, “You couldn’t possibly muster that blinding energy on your own. Where the hell is my sister?”

Resisting the urge to hang his head or apologize, Ice met Bram’s blue gaze dead-on. “I love Sabelle, and I’ve made my intentions very clear.”

Bram gritted this teeth. “Was it necessary to flaunt her so publicly?”

“She insisted on coming to me and brushed aside my refusal. You know your sister can be quite determined.”

Glaring at Ice for a long, uncomfortable moment, Bram finally cursed. “Don’t touch Sabelle again.”

“She is a grown witch,” Ice argued. “She’s no longer a five-year-old in need of your guidance. She loves you. But I know Sabelle, and you should as well. She is going to make her own choices, and anything you or I say will sway her little.”

Staring at the winter-brown grass, Bram clenched his jaw so tightly, Ice wondered if it would break.

“Until you win this Council seat, this conversation is over. Then if she truly chooses you . . .” With a curse, Bram thrust the sword at him. “Take this. What the devil do you intend to do with it, anyway?”

“I think I’ve found the means to keep Mathias from this Council seat. It may even kill him.”

That changed Bram’s posture. “Truly?”

“The black cloud passing through me gave me an idea . . .”

“Yes. How did you fight that off?”

Ice shrugged, choosing his words carefully. “Somehow, it did not choose me.”

“Because you aren’t susceptible to the dark? That’s what Mathias intimated.”

Because he didn’t live for ambition or greed, didn’t covet anyone else’s mate, didn’t kill for sport … had nothing in his soul that could be used to tempt him to do evil. Bram, on the other hand, had always been ruthlessly ambitious, but since being smothered by the black cloud he hadn’t hidden it well. At all. Now it ruled nearly his every thought and deed.

Rather than admit that and start an argument, Ice looked about Blackbourne’s gardens. “Mathias has not returned from the break?”

“No,” Bram confirmed. “And he’s got less than two minutes or he forfeits the match.”

Ice’s blood ran cold. Mathias was still inside the house … as was Sabelle. Two minutes wasn’t long, but when faced with an agent of death, it was an eternity. There was but one reason Mathias would not appear in the challenge ring: He had abducted Sabelle.

Tossing the sword at Bram again, Ice set off at a dead run for the house. Suddenly, Bram was by his side, the sword left leaning against the challenge ring’s invisible walls.

“Go back to the challenge ring or you’ll forfeit,” Bram ordered.

“If it means letting Mathias hurting Sabelle, I don’t bloody care!”

“She’s my sister. I’ll find her!”

“And the mate of my heart. If Emma were here, would you let Mathias anywhere near her?”

“Bastard.”

Ice wasn’t certain if Bram meant him or Mathias, and he didn’t much care. He reached the back door first and threw it open. Just as he prepared to charge in, Mathias walked out.

“Going somewhere?” he asked. “The challenge will resume shortly, yes? or are you admitting defeat?”

Narrowing his eyes at the ruthless wizard, Ice glared. “Why are you late?”

“One minute!” Blackbourne called.

“I’m not.” Mathias smiled. “Just keeping Rhea occupied for as long as possible.”

A vision of Mathias unleashing his malevolent passion on that witch nearly made Ice sick. He chomped at the bit to ask Mathias if he’d seen or harmed Sabelle, but didn’t want to give the villain any ideas in the event Sabelle was merely resting or taking her time getting dressed. It seemed unlike her not to watch this upcoming phase of the match, but perhaps refusing to allow her to complete the vows hurt her more than he’d believed.

“A word with you, Rykard, before we begin again,” Mathias asked with perfect politeness that made Ice want to grind his teeth.

“We have nothing to say.”

Mathias grabbed his arm. “Actually, we do.”

Bram glared at Mathias. “What the devil do you want?”

“To talk to Rykard alone, wizard to wizard.”

Something was wrong here, Ice suspected. Very wrong. And it had to do with Sabelle. The certainty dug an icy claw into his gut. He swallowed fear, shrugged off Mathias’s touch, then turned to Bram. A long look passed between them. Whatever their feuds, Sabelle was vital to them both. In that silent exchange, Bram agreed to search for her while Ice dealt with Mathias.

As Bram darted into the stately manor, Ice watched, dread raking poison-dipped talons into his gut.

He turned back to Mathias. “We’re alone now. Say it and be done.”

“Back to the challenge ring, if you please.”

Ice understood the urge to murder all over again, but restrained it for Sabelle’s sake as he crawled inside the ring. He grabbed the sword, comforted by its weight in his hands.

Mathias sent a sideways glance at the human weapon and dropped to a mumble suffused with evil glee. “I assume you have feelings for that lovely little siren you’ve Called to, and if you’d like to see her alive again, you’ll forfeit the match as soon as Blackbourne resumes it.”

Ice froze, then violence defrosted his system with the urge to kill. He raised the sword threateningly. “What the fuck did you do with her?”

“Nothing.” He smiled. “Yet. Should you wish to keep it that way, you will bow out of this challenge. If not”—he shrugged—“let’s say Gailene enjoyed my company far more than Ms. Rion will.”

Visions of Gailene’s body, twisted and broken, besieged him, and Ice forced the visions away. He could not think about the past if he wanted to have a future.

Clutching the sword, Ice’s fingers crushed the handle. Veins bulged in his arms. His temper surged until he heard nothing more than pounding in his ears. He restrained the urge to kill Mathias—barely. He only did because he had to know what the bastard had done to Sabelle. “She’s still here at Blackbourne’s house, since no one can teleport out. And if you managed, you would be disqualified.”

“Stop guessing like a fool and agree. You have less than thirty seconds to decide her fate. If you don’t answer me before Blackbourne resumes the challenge, she dies before you can ever leave the ring to save her—and before Bram can rescue her.”

Which meant Rhea was holding Sabelle prisoner in the house and probably had instructions to kill her upon Mathias’s signal.

Oh dear God, had Bram been able to find Sabelle? How would he save her?

Ice wished to hell he could send Bram some mental message, but neither of them had been gifted with that magic. Instead, he surreptitiously reached for the phone at his waist to call Bram. Mathias’s hissed warning stopped him cold.

“Don’t be stupid. Do you forfeit? Decide now.”

All Ice could do was pray Bram found Sabelle soon. Until then … he was trapped. Goddamned fucking trapped.

But nothing mattered more than Sabelle’s safety.

He closed his eyes. Agreeing meant that he not only forfeited a Council seat, but also gave up both mating with Sa-belle and avenging his beloved sister so she could finally rest peacefully after two long centuries. But Gailene would not have wanted Ice to risk another for her memory. She would have been pleased to see him in love.

Little good it did him. He’d foolishly left Sabelle upstairs, believing Mathias would use the opportunity to schmooze Blackbourne and further his political aspirations, not abduct a fellow Councilman’s sister under their collective noses.

How naive he’d been.

He’d pay for his foolishness for the rest of his life. But Ice didn’t deserve Sabelle if he couldn’t win this battle, and he’d forfeit again ten times over if it meant saving her life.

Please, God, let her be safe. Even if she hated him for not protecting her. Even if Bram refused to allow him to ever speak to her again. Just knowing she was alive and well would be enough for him.

Ice didn’t hesitate. “I’ll forfeit.”

“Very good,” Mathias lauded softly. “Very good, indeed. After you’ve conceded the challenge to me, I will leave with Rhea and Ms. Rion. I need one other item from you before I return your beloved: the Doomsday Diary. At midnight, you will meet me at Hyde Park with the diary. I will exchange the book for Sabelle.”

Those words hit Ice like a flight into a brick wall. This is what Mathias had sought all along, not a seat of power he had to share with six others, but the ultimate power to destroy or enslave magickind at will.

Bloody hell.

Had Mathias discovered the means to use the Doomsday Diary?

The evil wizard knew from imprisoning Caden’s mate, Sydney, and stealing the book that only a female could write in the Doomsday Diary. Rhea, Mathias’s whore, had held the book once and placed on it the bloody inconvenient tracking spell that had nearly gotten Ice and Sabelle killed after Mathias invaded Bram’s house. But, if Rhea knew how to use it, why hadn’t she? The wizard was many things, but not stupid. He must know that he needed a very powerful witch to manipulate the book and perform the awesome feats Mathias demanded.

What witch was more powerful than Merlin’s granddaughter?

“You’re both here,” Blackbourne noted, his gaze bouncing between them as he stepped into the challenge ring. “Excellent.”

Suddenly, Ice knew two things: one, Mathias would press Sabelle to use the diary to fulfill his twisted ambitions to rule and enslave magickind by force, and when she refused, he would kill her. Painfully. Two, he could never allow Mathias that chance. He prayed that Sabelle had used that clever mind of hers to break free or Bram had rescued her before Mathias could signal Rhea to begin Sabelle’s doom.

“We are,” Mathias confirmed. “Is it time?”

“The challenge has officially resumed!” Blackbourne confirmed.

“First, Rykard has something to say.”

Gripping the sword tightly with one hand, willing his fury down until the right moment, Ice addressed Black-bourne. “Indeed, I do.”

The older wizard frowned down his long, thin nose. “What is it, Rykard?”

“Excuse me, sir.” Ice whirled to Mathias. “Fuck off.”

With a battle cry, Ice lifted his wand with one hand. Mathias’s eyes widened in disbelief. He swore and raised his own wand. One chance. One distraction. One opportunity to stop Mathias and his evil plan for Sabelle, maybe even kill the rotten bastard. He had to make it work.

Before Mathias could cast whatever nasty spell lay at the tip of his wand, Ice raised his other hand, which held the sword coated in his incorruptible blood.

Faster than the blink of an eye thanks to Marrok’s grueling training, Ice skewered Mathias in the gut. He plunged deep, turned the blade, ripped it out. “That’s for Gailene, you fucking madman. You brutally stripped her innocence and stole her life. So I’m going to slice you into little pieces, spit in the open holes, and let you rot until the maggots claim you.” Ice then shoved the sword into Mathias again and, with a hard flick of his wrist, sliced open Mathias’s abdomen. “And that’s for threatening Sabelle. You’d best not lay a finger on her, or there won’t be a death painful enough for you.”