The Midnight Witch (48 page)

How much must this be costing her? To incur the displeasure of the whole coven. To hear them question her suitability for her position of leader. She is risking so much for me.

“Times have changed,” Lilith says. “If the Lazarus Coven is to survive, we must change with it. Perhaps we have kept ourselves apart from the Outerworld for too long.”

“But still”—Victoria is unconvinced—“to break your vows, Morningstar. And to thrust this …
person
upon us without consultation … it is not in keeping with our laws. We do not use secrecy to set ourselves above others but to protect the coven and the Great Secret.”

“And how can my husband-to-be help protect me if he does not know the truth? Already he has been subjected to the power of the Dark Spirit of Edmund Willoughby.”

Another witch speaks her mind. “You should have considered that before choosing a non-witch as your partner. It is you who have put him in harm’s way. And now you weaken the strength of the coven by your actions.”

Others voice their agreement, so that soon many are calling out their fears, criticizing Lilith, demanding that some sort of action be taken.

Quietly, Druscilla holds up her hand for silence. The senior witch commands great respect, so that despite passions running high, everyone is soon quiet once more.

Druscilla steps closer to Bram. She raises her walking stick and prods him with it, as if testing to see if he is real. She prods him harder, and he realizes she is in fact testing his temper.

“What manner of man are you, Bram Cardale?” she asks.

“Perhaps you should better ask that question of somebody other than me.”

“Morningstar loves you.” Druscilla shrugs. “It seems to me we should trust her judgment.”

Victoria waves her arms in a gesture of exasperation. “The girl is in love, Druscilla. Her judgment is skewed by a handsome face and no doubt honeyed words.”

“You are speaking of our Head Witch!” Druscilla snaps, frowning fiercely at Victoria, before turning her glare on the rest of the company. “You would all do well to remember that. Morningstar is our rightful leader, the appointed head of our coven. She asks that we accept this man into our community.”

“A non-witch!” Victoria repeats.

“At present,” Druscilla concedes. “And perhaps he will remain so. Or perhaps not.”

Lilith moves to stand beside her mentor. “Druscilla, what are you thinking?”

“Many members of this coven were not born witches, though they apparently choose to forget that fact now. They were proposed by Lazarus witches, put forward, accepted, and inducted.”

“But never like this,” Victoria points out. “Our existence was never divulged to anyone without our consent. Morningstar has broken with tradition…”

“And so she might. It is her right to govern us
her
way. She trusts this man. And I confess”—she turns back to Bram and he experiences the powerful sensation that she is able to see into his very soul—“I find there is … something about him. Some raw material, some … spark. Well, young man. Would you be willing to be tested? To be scrutinized and challenged and, should you be deemed suitable, to be instructed in the ways of Lazarus?”

Bram gives a polite bow. “I am willing to do whatever is necessary for the woman I love, Druscilla. I promise.”

Lord Grimes hurries forward, breathlessly attempting to save his party and restore a happier mood. “A toast, ladies and gentlemen. Charge your glasses. There we are, that’s it.” He holds his own champagne flute high. “To Bram Cardale,” he calls out, “welcome!” And behind him a shaken band of witches echoes the toast, “Welcome!”

*   *   *

I have never watched a man sleep before. Bram looks even more beautiful than when he is awake. With the tension gone out of his face, he looks younger, less troubled. His hair is madly long now. I cannot imagine him with it shorn for the army. What a time he endured in Africa. He has spoken of it only a little, but enough that I can see how it hurts him to remember. One day he will tell me everything. As I have told him. I had not dared consider,
really
consider, how he might react to learning the whole truth about me, and to the idea of him eventually joining our coven and becoming a witch himself. If I had, my nerve would have deserted me, I am certain of it. For some time I had not even dared voice the notion to myself. But then, when I let the thought take hold, it seemed so right. He is so attuned to the world around him, so sensitive to the nature of the people he meets. Perhaps it is the artist in him that makes him—what was it Druscilla said?—“raw material” that might be nurtured into a witch one day. Or perhaps that extra something, that thing that sets him apart and can make for a lonely life, perhaps that is the magic that makes him able to produce art that moves people. How are we to tell which comes first, and which inspires the other? Either way, I am so happy to think he will come to enjoy the wonder of belonging to the coven, and the marvels of knowing and using magic. He will be receptive to the spirits—he has already demonstrated that. And I know he will, in time and with careful instruction, become a fine necromancer.

And now here he lies in my bed, naked and warm. When we left the garden party I knew that this is where I would bring him. I wanted him to know me completely. I needed to know
myself
completely. We did not speak, all the way here in the cab. By the time we arrived it was dark. I had Terence bring us some champagne and smoked salmon and then dismissed him for the night so that Bram and I could be properly alone. We sipped our drinks and ate our food at the small table in my bedroom in near silence. We both knew what we wanted, what was going to happen. The anticipation was delicious! Every inch of my body tingled at the thought of him touching me. By the time he stood up, stepped round the table to me, and pulled me to my feet, I ached with desire for him. I had never allowed myself to be so free.

And yet I was reminded, even then, of my other allegiances. The spirits were drawn to my heightened state and started whispering in my ear. I was furious. How dare they! Am I never to be allowed any privacy? I sent them away, refusing to listen or to speak with them. I warned them that if they did not respect my right to a private life as a woman, they would lose my friendship and service as a witch forever. Either they believed me, or they felt suitably uncomfortable at invading my personal life, I cannot know which. In any case, they departed, so that I could give myself to Bram, body, heart, and soul.

As if sensing he is being watched, Bram stirs. He stretches his strong arms, and his eyelids flutter open. He offers me a slow smile.

“Don’t you know it is considered the height of rudeness to stare?” he asks.

“I seem to remember coming under your scrutiny for hours at a time, day after day. For weeks, in fact.”

“That was different. You were posing for an artist, not sleeping while somebody gazed at you.”

“Somebody?”

He laughs quietly, slipping his arm around my waist to pull me to him. The sensation of his skin against my own again is every bit as thrilling as the first time I experienced it.

“A very lovely body,” he murmurs into my hair.

At once I feel a longing for him coursing through me. He is so strong, and yet touches me with such tenderness. He smells of life and vigor and desire and my thoughts start to spin away as he kisses my throat, my shoulder, my breast.

When at last we lie wrapped in each other’s arms again, letting the breeze from the open balcony doors cool our damp skin, I know that I was right, this time, to follow my heart. Father always taught me to trust to my mind, to judgment born of thought, of reason, of knowledge. He would allow the use of a witch’s instinct, yes, but a woman’s yearning? The compulsion to love? To adore and be adored? Never. And yet it is right for me to be guided by this. For now I have an ally in life. Someone who cares about me above everything and accepts me for what I am, even if that is beyond his true understanding. Whatever lies ahead, I will not face it alone. Gradually I will help him to see that what it is I do is not so frightening, not so disturbing. He will be my safe haven. When I am adrift in the stormy seas of magic and the spirit world, it will be Bram who calls me home.

Moonlight falls through the open curtains. Slipping from under the tangled sheet I pull my cream silk night-robe around me, tying it at the waist.

“Come along.” I reach out my hand and Bram takes it. “It is a beautiful night, let’s not miss it.” He follows wordlessly until I become suddenly shy at his nakedness. “Perhaps you had better put your trousers on first,” I say, feeling I should look away but not wanting to. My own lustfulness makes me blush.

“Why? Can we be overlooked up there in your aerie?”

“That’s just what Charlotte called it.”

He smiles. “Well, if there’s any danger of her showing up I’d better do as you say.”

I find watching him slip into his narrow-fitting trousers almost as erotic as watching him slip out of them. He leaves his broad, smooth chest bare. My own desire both shocks and thrills me. I walk briskly to the lift, letting Bram jog to catch up. He slides shut the iron door of the cage and we ascend to the roof.

It is indeed the most glorious night. The stars are outshone by the lustrous pearly moon that glows directly above us. Below, the city slumbers, with only night workers and a few revelers moving about, subdued in the lamp light. Humans are not by nature nocturnal, but witches often are, and of course necromancers do their best work drawing on the energy of the night. Will I ever be able to make Bram see the beauty of it all? To welcome midnight as joyously as others welcome dawn? I think I will. I think he will suit the strange new life that awaits him.

We have not been seated on the smooth walnut bench more than ten minutes when I am startled by the sound of the lift being called back down.

“Who can be using it?” I cannot keep the anxiety from my voice.

“Perhaps Terence needs to speak with you.”

“He would call up on the telephone. He is far too discreet to intrude.”

We both stand and watch the lift return. The ornate ironwork of the cage obscures the figure within, until the doors open, and onto the rooftop steps Nicholas Stricklend. I instinctively stand in front of Bram, but he moves forward and places a protective arm about me. Terence arrives breathlessly at the top of the spiral staircase that services the other side of the roof garden.

“I am so sorry, Lady Lilith. He would not be stopped.”

“Don’t worry, Terence. It’s not your fault.”

The butler hesitates, sensing something is amiss. He retreats to the top of the stairway but lingers there.

Bram addresses our unwelcome visitor. “Who are you? And what do you mean by forcing your way up here uninvited?”

“My name, as your hostess very well knows, is Nicholas Stricklend.”

“Stricklend!”

“Ah. I see Lady Lilith has told you all about me. How illuminating. She must trust you completely, Mr. Cardale. It is Mr. Cardale, is it not? Or have I been embarrassingly misinformed?”

Anger surges through me. I know what he is about. I know why this fiend has come here.

One of my Cavaliers chatters urgently in my ear.

We tried to stop him, mistress, but he used his demon spirits to bar our way.

I force myself to sound strong. “How dare you come into my home! I will never give you what you want, surely you realize that.”

Stricklend sighs. “I am aware it will be difficult for you, Morningstar. May I call you that? I feel we can converse more honestly as witches, don’t you?”

“You have no right to call yourself witch,
sorcerer
. And I have no wish to converse with you at all. Leave my home at once!”

“Alas, I cannot.” He begins to move toward us. Bram tightens his grip on me. I hold my ground. “The Sentinels have waited long centuries to regain what was taken from us. What is rightfully ours. The decision was made that we would wait no longer. The time has come to restore the Elixir to its rightful masters. And that time has come because of me.”

“Many Sentinels have existed before you, Stricklend,” I tell him, “and I have no doubt many of them thought themselves up to the task you have set yourself. There are accounts of attempts to uncover the Great Secret. Every Lazarus witch learns of them during their instruction. None of these misguided efforts to steal the Elixir from us was successful. They all failed. As will you!”

“I will not leave without what I have come for, make no mistake about that.”

Beside me Bram shakes his head. “You are quite mad.”

“Really?” Stricklend is unimpressed. “If you consider me so, then I can only wonder what you think of the accomplished necromancer you now have in your embrace. She raised her own brother from his coffin, did she tell you that? I must say I admire your broad-mindedness, Mr. Cardale. Perhaps it is your … artistic nature that allows you to view your beloved’s darker habits so charitably.”

I am about to reply and I can feel Bram clench his fist, but before either of us can respond we are thrown to the ground. The force of Stricklend’s spell is astonishing, and it catches us both off guard. I am still fighting for breath as I stagger to my feet. What I see next freezes me to the spot with fear. Stricklend has used his strong magic to fling Bram up into the air and now has him suspended, helpless, twenty feet above the roof garden. In an instant he has conveyed him farther away from me, so that now he is beyond the balcony wall. If he were to drop now, if Stricklend were to let him drop, he would plummet ten floors to the street behind the apartment building.

“Bram, keep still!” I shout at him. He listens to me and ceases his futile, dangerous struggling.

“It is a simple trade,” Stricklend says, “you give me what I want, and I will give you back your lover. If not…” To underline his point he lets Bram drop suddenly six feet before stopping him again.

Behind me Terence shouts and rushes toward Stricklend. I try to warn him, to stop him, but in an instant the Sentinel has sent a spell at the poor, frail man, so that he crumples to the ground and lies silent. I feel my stomach turn over. My Cavaliers offer their assistance.