Page 25 of An Oath at Midnight

I lifted a hand, warning him to stay back. “I can’t do this.” The words escaped before I knew they were coming, but I didn’t try to take them back, because I meant it. “I can’t wait around at home for you, scared out of my mind, not knowing if you’ll ever come back. You’ve checked out. You’re my best friend, and I’m losing you.” I was shaking, my emotions rioting through me. “You were mine. I was yours. We were inseparable, now we’re—”

One moment I was standing there, the next he was in front of me, lifting me off my feet and planting me back in bed.

“Stop,” he bit out and loomed over me. “You haven’t lost me. You will never lose me.” His nostrils flared, his big body shaking. “I need you to trust me, Magnolia. I need…I need you to tell me you know I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever. I’d fucking die before I purposely caused you even a moment of pain.” One of his big, rough-skinned hands took hold of my jaw, his coal-black eyes on mine. “I would tell you everything, fuck…everything, if I were able to, but I can’t. I want to tell you what I’m doing, where I’m—”

He made a choking sound.

“Bram.”

He gasped for breath. “I would…I’d—” He choked again, then again tried to speak, and it was like some invisible force had him in a choke hold and was squeezing.

I slammed my hand over his mouth. “Stop. Stop trying to talk.”

Oh goddess. He couldn’t tell me, not because he didn’t want to but because he was physically unable to. “You’re being gagged by a silencing oath, aren’t you?”

He said nothing. But he didn’t deny it. He just continued to stare deep into my eyes, silently asking me to see the truth as his breathing slowly evened out. He was bound so tightly that he’d choke, most likely to death, if he even tried to tell me. Which meant whoever he was answering to was extremely powerful. Silencing oaths were rarely used. They were forbidden by everyone—except those in the highest of high-level positions.

“You really can’t tell me, can you?”

He continued to hold my gaze, saying nothing.

No. He couldn’t.

* * *

“Magnolia,” Bram’s voice was low, insistent.

My hair was brushed back from my face, and I struggled to open my eyes.

“Mags. Wake up.”

My mind was fuzzy, then everything snapped back into focus—the murders, what happened with Willow, what I’d learned about Bram—and my eyes flew open. I groggily tried to sit up. “What’s wrong?”

I expected it to be morning, or that I’d slept in. But it was still dark outside, the moon high in the sky.

“I have to go,” Bram said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Something’s come up.”

Disappointment washed through me. It still hurt, but at least now I knew he’d tell me where he was going if he could. “When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow. This shouldn’t take long,” he said.

I nodded and covered his hand still lingering at the side of my face. “Be safe. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He was watching me, his body incredibly still.

His gaze dipped to my lips.

I found it hard to breathe all of a sudden, and tension stretched out between us. The kind that I tried to pretend didn’t exist, the kind that had panic firing through me. I quickly looked down, breaking eye contact, while my heart hammered behind my ribs, so hard and fast, I felt dizzy.

He slid his hand from under mine and stood. “Go back to sleep,” he said as if nothing had just happened, as if he hadn’t felt that tension as well.

I nodded, but there was no chance of me going back to sleep now.

He planted a kiss on the top of my head and walked out, and I lay there for a while, listening to the leaves rustling. But it was hot, and my mind was all over the place. Places I didn’t want it to go. So I got up, wandered into the living room, and turned on the TV.

Not that I paid much attention to what was on. Goddess, where was Wills now? Was she already in Hell? Or had Warrick taken her somewhere else? Who and what had called Bram away in the middle of the night? Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact he could fly and I couldn’t, I would’ve followed him by now.

My mind was so busy, it took me a moment to realize my voice wasn’t the only one in my head.