A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7) (21 page)

“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, maybe, 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.”

“I appreciate many more aspects, it seems, than you do,” he ground out, frowning at me all the while as if my comment rubbed him the wrong way.

“Regardless, the only way this rocky … relationship can work is by both of us maintaining trust,” I said. I walked around the couch and gripped the back of it, stretching my arms out as I pulled against it. Just dealing with Bram had put a kink between my shoulders.

“Do we have a
relationship
, Sweet?” The source of my neck pain asked, his serpentine smile especially flirtatious and, as such, especially irritating. “I admit, I appreciate hearing you refer to it as such.”

“Relationship, friendship, alliance or a hostage situation … call it what you will,” I replied with a shrug. Standing up straight, I didn’t miss the jolt of tension still cramping my neck and shoulders. “But whatever you decide to term it is irrelevant, the only way we can continue working together is if you’re honest and straight with me,” I insisted. “That’s how I am with you. We both have certain expectations and obligations for each other that we must continue to meet. Otherwise, whatever connection we share will fall apart. We’re skating on extremely thin ice as it is.”

“I have cast away all of my expectations of you. You constantly disappoint me,” he replied. Arching his eyebrows dramatically, he walked closer until he was only a few paces from me. He clasped his hands in front of him, as though he were preparing to take a casual stroll. With the backdrop of his drawing room, and the way he was dressed, he looked like some brooding, romantic hero. I had half a mind to start calling him as Heathcliff. Bramcliff …

“That conversation has nothing to do with this one,” I replied. The last thing I wanted to do was open up another discussion on his unrequited feelings for me. I doubted I could survive it.

Bram nodded after gazing at me for a few seconds. He thrust his hands into his pants pockets and took a few steps closer, but paused when he was less than three feet away. “I need your help, Sweet,” he said in a soft voice, one that seemed more natural in a way, less guarded and more candid. Or maybe it was his expression … Whatever it was lacked the artifice I was so accustomed to hearing from him.

“You need my help?” I repeated, eyeing him skeptically. “That’s why you ordered Jax to kidnap me?”

“Yes,” he admitted with a single nod before cocking his head to the side. He added, almost as an afterthought, “And I was worried about your safety.”

“Why?” I asked while shaking my head. I wanted him to know I wasn’t following him. I still wasn’t sure I even bought the whole “keeping me safe” thing. It seemed a little too convenient, especially if he wanted something from me. “If you’re the one behind the takeover of Splendor Headquarters, why be worried about me at all? There’s no reason since you’re the one calling the shots.”

“Ah … that it were so easy,” he admitted, dropping his attention to the dark wood floors, which were mostly covered by expensive rugs. Sighing theatrically, his shoulders sagged slightly, like he had to support the weight of the world.

“What’s going on, Bram?” I asked, not accustomed to seeing him like this. What was worse, I didn’t like it. I was used to the self-centered, egomaniac who was self-assured to the point of cockiness. Then the thought occurred to me that maybe his
woe-is-me
act was just that, an act. Maybe Bram was just trying to manipulate me into feeling sorry for him just so I’d agree to help him. Yep, that was probably closer to the truth.

Rat bastard …

“Bram, you need to explain everything to me—all of it in detail,” I said after another few seconds, during which time he continued to stare, as if he were zoned out on the floor.

He brought his attention back to my face and nodded as though he realized the truth had to come out sooner rather than later. “It is not my preference that Caressa be outed as Head of the Netherworld,” he started. “I believe the ANC must maintain a foothold in the Netherworld government in order to secure and enforce the natural balance of things.”

“Then why are you doing this?” I demanded angrily. It didn’t add up. I also sincerely wished he’d stop feeding me information piece by piece and just spit all of it out at once. But, of course, that wasn’t Bram’s way.

“Because I was backed into a corner, I had no other alternative,” he said, sounding strangely tired, as if this nasty business was really putting him through the wringer.

“Explain.”

“Those in the potions rings are very nervous about Caressa replacing your father,” he finally divulged. “As you may recall, your father had a name and a particular
affinity
for running illegal organizations.”

“My father was a backhanded, double-faced, son of a bitch,” I interjected. My hands began fisting at my sides and my lips tightened whenever I thought about my father. My physical reaction was always the same. I hated the man when he lived, and I hated his memory now. “He was probably as crooked as they come.”

“We both agree your father was what he was,” Bram concurred, “and we both saw the reasons he had to be removed from office. Let us, for the moment, abandon our perspectives, my dear, and try to adopt those of the leaders of the potions rings.”

“They probably loved my father,” I admitted with a scowl before walking over to the couch and taking a seat. I folded one of my legs underneath me and focused on Bram, hoping this conversation would pick up its pace.

“Love, perhaps, is not the right word,” Bram corrected me, as he nodded all the same. “Your father was very much feared, and I can say without any equivocation, he was a most respected man.”

“Anyone who respected my father was a complete fool.”

“The point, my dear, beautiful fairy, is this: your father was a man in
their
court. His own personal interests were well aligned and tied to theirs.”

“Right, because he was profiting from the illegal potions market!” I railed angrily. My knee started to hurt so I stood up, only to sit down again, planting both of my feet firmly on the floor. “Yes, he was a hypocrite and a traitor since he also sat behind an ANC desk.”

“Caressa, as you are well aware, is not one of them,” Bram said, nodding his agreement. “To the exporters, as I affectionately refer to them,” he started before I interrupted him.

“You mean as you affectionately refer to yourself?” I crossed my arms over my chest because I was growing even angrier when I reminded myself of how deep Bram’s betrayal really ran.

“I am not
them
,” he replied curtly with a simple smile that suggested he really believed his words.

“You’re the head of the largest street potions organization,” I argued, my eyebrows furrowed in irritation. There was no way he could ever convince me he was innocent in all of this. “How can you deny being one of them? You’re their freaking ring leader!”

“That may be true,” he admitted while shaking his head. “But I am not cut from the same cloth. As I told you earlier, I am the puppeteer; and they are all mere puppets. None of them see the larger picture. They only see the things I allow them to view.”

“You’re one and the same, Bram,” I interrupted and considered him with a frown that said his overinflated ego wasn’t exactly charming. “You say
ta-may-to
and I say
tah-mah-to,
” I quipped.

“I do not view it the same way you do,” he argued.

“Regardless, I’d rather you got back to the point.”

“As you wish,” he answered with another frown. As he approached the far end of the room, I suddenly noticed a white statue. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed it before, considering how tall it was—probably the same height as I was. Romanesque in style, it was in the shape of a naked woman. Her hair was done in a chignon, piled on top of her head, although quite a few tendrils framed her face. Carrying a jug over one of her shapely shoulders, she didn’t wear any clothes and her feet were bare.

Bram just stood there as if transfixed by the sight of her, his eyes following the contours of her body.

“Bram!” I yelled, clapping my hands a few times to get his attention. “What is it with you and naked artifacts?”

“I cannot deny my appreciation for the human female body,” he answered, but then thought better of it when he added: “or the female fae body,” and offered me a wink. “The female is the essence of pure beauty,” he remarked. Shifting his head, he followed the curvaceous lines of the exquisite statue. “Every curve, every junction, every valley and every peak are the epitome of pristine perfection.”

“Well, excuse me, but we
were
having a conversation, you know?” I was becoming increasingly convinced that Bram must be suffering from ADHD.

Sparing a glance over his shoulder at me, and showing little interest, he curtly nodded with a sigh. “As I was saying, the exporters do not consider Caressa their friend,” he said, turning to fully face me and looking slightly despondent over that fact.

“Because she will insist that the laws be upheld,” I deduced. Jutting my chin into the air, like I usually did when I felt self-righteous, I added, “Just like I would.”