Frost and Flame

by Showalter, Gena

  What if something happened to her guys?

  Yes, they’d trained for war. Yes, they knew how to fight, how to survive a worst-case scenario. Yes, this needed to be done, or Erik’s army would make a play against them at the assembly. A play against Vale and Knox, too. But there were hundreds of soldiers in there, who’d trained just as staunchly.

  I’m starting to hate Erik. If he hadn’t targeted her friends, Nola would have pursued him as an ally. He was a fellow Earthling, after all. Born and raised here. But he’d continued to strike at them and had earned a top spot on her elimination list.

  Different sounds assaulted her ears. The pop, pop of gunfire, ebbing and flowing in waves. Screams erupted. Curses, too. Then grinding metal. Anyone nearby would consider the warehouse a haunted house. But she knew better.

  The battle had begun.

  I won’t vomit, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.

  A squeaky sound caught her attention. It came from inside the Dumpster. She tensed, blood heating, bones icing.

  Should she shout for Bane?

  Better not distract him. For all she knew, a rat had caused the noise.

  When the lid swung open, she pressed a hand over her mouth to silence a squeal. Breath misted in front of her face.

  Not a rat, and not a real trash receptacle—an escape hatch? A man in a black T-shirt and jeans climbed out, stepping into a ray of moonlight. Blood smeared his face and hands. He looked from the warehouse to the nearest street, most likely deciding whether to run or go back to help his friends.

  Palms dampening, she stumbled back and reached for her gun. The movement caught his notice, and he palmed and aimed a semiautomatic. While her hand shook, his remained steady.

  Where was Dark Nola when she needed her?

  Was this it? The end? Denial screamed inside her head. There was so much more she’d wanted to do. With Bane. With Vale. With her freaking people. She had beasts to awaken!

  Finally, Dark Nola stepped up to the plate and seized her tongue. “Put the gun away—before I make you eat it.”

  He bared his teeth. “I know you. You’re with them. The ones trying to overtake our planet.” That said, he pulled the trigger.

  Nola braced, expecting pain. Bane appeared out of nowhere, the bullet nailing him in the chest. As his body jerked, she screamed into the cold night.

  Took a bullet for me. Would die for me.

  As she reeled—a common occurrence in his presence—he clawed the shooter’s neck. Gut. Groin.

  So brutal. So savage. The man collapsed. Blood pooled around him...and she loved the sight. So pretty.

  Her mouth actually watered.

  “You think to hurt my woman?” Bane spit on the corpse.

  So fierce. So mine.

  Zion appeared next and assessed the situation with a visual sweep. “Good work.” He opened a portal and tossed the body inside, saying, “Partners.”

  Her adrenaline crashed, and her teeth chattered. “We can go now?”

  “We can.” Bane gathered her close.

  An alarm screeched to life.

  “We relocated their weapons,” he said. “Now, we only have a thousand more things to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  How to survive the big day

  FOR THE NEXT two weeks, Nola played house with her gorgeous barbarian protectors.

  Every morning, they switched hotels and often states. Sometimes they even switched countries. They preferred extended-stay locations with kitchens.

  While being on the move had already lost its appeal, Nola enjoyed cooking for her men. Whatever she made, they devoured. Especially casseroles. The rest of the day, Bane and Zion would hunt combatants, strategize and set traps.

  Erik would make trouble. He and his allies had a hankering for roasted beast.

  In the evening, Bane and Zion would train Nola tag-team style, teaching her how to fight with her fists, swords, daggers, guns and any innocent object that happened to be close at hand. Like pens, pillows and cups.

  All went smoothly, until Zion accidentally elbowed her in the chin, causing her to bite her own tongue. Blood had trickled from her mouth, and Bane had nearly shattered glass with his roar, almost transforming into Drogo right then and there.

  Calming him had involved kisses, stripping, sex and hours of snuggle time. The man who’d taken a bullet for her had a major jones for cuddling.

  Their relationship continued to evolve, Bane smiling and laughing more, despite the ticking countdown clock, and it always sent her heart soaring higher. Every day, he became a little more protective, a lot fiercer and a megaton more passionate. She loved sleeping in the security of his arms, and he delighted in whispering sweeter everythings in her ear.

  Your strength amazes me.

  Your courage humbles me.

  Your beauty maddens me.

  Now, fear aggravated her nerves. Today, the clock zeroed out, a new one beginning. In less than three hours, the Assembly of Combatants would begin. Tick, tick, tick. Bane had already begun to prepare.

  “No one took the Mark of Disgrace,” she said, pacing in front of him. Not even Vale.

  Just her name elicited a pang of homesickness. Nola missed her sister so danged much. What she wouldn’t give to hug her. To cry with her. To talk and laugh with her. To discuss everything that had happened and the hardships of dating an All War combatant. To cook her favorite meal, the way Nola had been cooking for Bane and Zion.

  “You can’t end the war after the meeting,” she finished.

  “I know,” he replied, and to her amazement, he didn’t sound the tiniest bit upset. He sat at the desk, sharpening a sword—a weapon she was forbidden to touch. It was responsible for his shoulder wound. He glided some kind of rock over the edge of the blade. Up and down.

  “You won’t perform the Blood Rite until the war ends, which means your vengeance must wait.”

  “I know,” he repeated, still not upset.

  Dang him. Why the heck wasn’t he stressing? Something she couldn’t stop doing! As their romance had blossomed, so had her sense of foreboding. Never, in all her life, had she gotten to keep something she lo—cared about. She’d lost her parents, Carrie and even Vale, at least for a little while. Why would Bane be any different? One day, she would lose him, too.

  “Tell me again what you’ll be doing while I’m away,” he said. Up and down. Up and down.

  “Besides worry?” For their last few hours together—he’ll come back, he’ll come back—they’d locked themselves in the master bedroom of their newest penthouse suite. A gorgeous room with windowed walls and a massive bed.

  “You shouldn’t worry for your man.” Up and down. Sloooowly. Rhythmically. “I’ll be strong for us.”

  Us. One word, two letters, infinite shivers. Pacing, pacing, she said, “I’ll stay where you put me, talk to no one, trust no one and do nothing.”

  “Very good.”

  He would be portaling her into a different hotel room, in a different state. The combatants would be too busy to attack her and anyone Erik had hired wouldn’t know where to look or how to reach her. “Your turn,” she said. “Remind me about what you’ll be doing.”

  “Besides survive?” Up, down.

  “Obviously.” Their futures depended on the outcome of this stupid assembly.

  “I will protect Vale and work with Zion to win a weapon. Preferably a ring owned by Colt.”

  Nola had listened in every time Bane and Zion had discussed the war or tweaked their master plan. Most recently, they’d decided to target a warrior named Colt.

  Apparently, Colt owned a ring able to break into hundreds of tiny bots that could burrow under other people’s skin, allowing him to track and/or kill them with ease.

  If Bane controlled the ring, he would be unstoppable! Bonus: he could use the bots to shred
Aveline’s internal organs.

  “Why hasn’t Colt already pegged you guys with a bot?” she wondered aloud.

  “He hides from the war, never engages in battle.”

  “So why was he chosen as a representative?”

  “Perhaps he’s the bravest among his kind? Sovereigns rarely share their reasons.”

  Or Colt had a secret ability no one knew about? Her stomach twisted into knots. “I hate this!”

  On her next pass by the desk, Bane set his tools aside, pushed the weapons back, then looped an arm around her to haul her closer. He lifted her onto the desk, trapping her knees on either side of him.

  She wore a shirt and panties, nothing else. Correction: soaked panties. Her nipples puckered as her core heated and ached.

  He’d trained her body to react to his slightest touch.

  “Will you miss me?” He traced his fingers up her bare thighs, gripped her hips and drew lazy circles on her belly with the pads of his thumbs.

  Miss him? Only with every fiber of my being. “There’s a slight chance I...might.”

  A smile teased his mouth—another one to add to my collection—softening the rugged plains of his face. “I will miss you very much,” he said, his eyelids going heavy. “And you don’t have to worry about my well-being, dove, not even a little. Knowing you’re waiting for me, your body hungry for mine, I’ll let nothing prevent me from returning to you.”

  And there’s another sweet everything. When he said things like that, she fell a little harder. If this kept up, care would soon deepen into love. Are you sure it hasn’t already?

  Wait. The truth behind his words registered. “You’re going to wind me up before you hit the road, aren’t you?”

  He moved his gaze up, lingering on her feminine core, then her breasts, before meeting her eyes. A wicked gleam lit those golden depths as he toyed with the elastic band on her panties. “I’m going to wind you up so desperately you’ll be ravenous for weeks to come.”

  * * *

  FINALLY. THE ASSEMBLY OF COMBATANTS had arrived.

  Bane and Zion decided to arrive separately, with Bane going first. Leaving Nola had proved more difficult than ever, the urge to return to her unrelenting. The woman had bewitched and transfixed him, and he had no regrets.

  However, beneath affection and arousal was an endless pit of fear. He’d once swore he would never need another person, ever. But he needed Nola like a thirsty man needed water. She made his world better. If anything happened to her...

  His claws lengthened. Without her presence, the beast became frenzied, prowling and growling with more vigor.

  Hurry, hurry. Get this over with. Bane had portaled near the remains of the prison. What used to be the remains, anyway. Someone had cleared the area. Probably the Enforcer, Seven.

  Frigid winds blustered, shards of frost pricking his cheeks. In the middle of an ice valley, invisible walls of energy formed a wide circle. Already a handful of combatants waited inside it. In a hooded black robe, face obscured by shadows, Seven stood off to the side. Like a grim reaper of legend, he carried a scythe.

  Enforcers were forbidden from interacting with combatants outside the assemblies and ceremonies like the Mark of Disgrace—Enforcers weren’t allowed to interact with anyone, period. They were tools used by the High Council, never allowed to live lives of their own. Or have names. They were given number designations, one through ten, and there were hundreds of thousands of each number. The higher the number, the more vicious the individual.

  Head high, Bane approached. As he stepped past those energy walls, tingles ran the length of his body, and his goggles ceased working. Nothing with a mystical component worked until the meeting’s conclusion.

  “Look at the little beasty-boy,” Ronan called. “Word is a Terran female has removed his balls.”

  “Who said he came to Terra with balls?” Petra retorted.

  They taunted with words rather than lashing out, fighting forbidden immediately before or during an assembly. The only time a combatant didn’t have to worry about being ambushed or tricked.

  The pair had caused the RV crash, putting Nola’s life in jeopardy. One day, they would pay. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t let himself kill them tonight. Circumstances hadn’t changed. Until he decided to end the war, he had to make sure plenty of combatants survived each battle.

  As the other combatants issued taunts of their own, Bane tuned them out, letting his thoughts drift back to Nola. No better time to reflect.

  For two weeks, they’d lived together. When he’d dared to sleep, he’d gotten to hold her. He’d made love to her in a thousand different ways, cuddled her and talked for hours. She’d cooked meals that had made his taste buds weep with joy.

  If Nola was his reason to live, Aveline was his reason to rage. The queen had called him repeatedly. Afraid she would order him to harm Nola, he hadn’t responded. But...

  He thought he sensed the queen nearby. Which had to be a mistake. Surely! No way Aveline would risk the wrath of the High Council or Bane’s disqualification by coming to Terra before a winner was declared.

  No way? Please. She’d do it in a heartbeat. Anything to feed her need for more power. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. If she had come to Terra, he would have to perform Nola’s Blood Rite right away, regardless of the war. He couldn’t allow Aveline to awaken the Terran beasts. They would hunt and kill Nola, and he wouldn’t be able to stop them.

  As new taunts rang out, Bane cleared his mind of any debris. More combatants had arrived. In ten minutes, roll call would begin. They were missing Zion, Knox, Vale, Colt and Carrick, a prince who owned a dagger able to turn blood into lava.

  Scratch that. Carrick arrived next.

  Where were Knox and Vale? Bane knew how badly Nola desired information about her sister, and he couldn’t wait to be her hero. If something had happened to the couple—

  Bane expelled a relieved breath as Knox entered the circle, Vale only a few feet behind him. The two didn’t touch, or glance at each other, but they didn’t move away, either.

  Physically, Vale hadn’t changed. She had the same black-and-white hair, slender build and tough yet ethereal beauty as before. But she carried herself far differently, confidence wafting from her. She’d even altered the way she walked, adopting a sensual, challenge-issuing swagger.

  In one of their late-night cuddle sessions, Nola told him how Vale had helped her during every illness, ensuring she ate, helping her get to the bathroom and giving her a reason to go on. Now, Bane felt beholden to the other woman.

  “I didn’t realize this was bring-your-whore-to-work day,” Carrick called.

  Knox bristled, but said nothing, silently fuming.

  Vale spread her arms and said, “What makes you think we’re sleeping together? And news flash. Whore isn’t exactly an insult to my way of thinking. You just implied I like sex and money. Guess what? I do. Oh, and good news. This whore is trolling for customers. Tonight is the grand opening of Vale’s Little House of Slays, and you’re all invited. I give good beheadings, free of charge.”

  Bane almost smiled. In many ways, Vale reminded him of Nola. Spirited, witty and unwilling to let anyone gain the upper hand.

  The trash talk amped up, but Bane lost track. Colt had just strode into the circle, his head down.

  Anticipation battered the dam of Bane’s control, unleashing a tide of impatience.

  Finally, Zion arrived, and Bane gave him the barest nod. The male had been a surprisingly good ally, keeping his end of their bargain. In every recent battle, they’d guarded each other’s back, often bleeding for each other. Bane even liked him.

  Another frosty wind kicked up, whistling in spurts. Carrick said, “You’re the one who ran off with the other human, isn’t that right, Zion? Didn’t you get the memo? You were supposed to bring her here for our enjoyment.”
r />   Bane dropped his chin to his sternum, his narrowed gaze fixing on the lava maker. He’ll pay for that.

  Zion crossed his arms over his chest, preparing to deliver his bomb. “Sorry I couldn’t oblige. As soon as I was done with her...I killed her.”

  Shockwaves crashed over the others. Though Vale had received a text telling her not to believe anything Zion said, she paled, emanating horror. Tears filled her eyes and splashed down her cheeks.

  For a moment, Bane wondered how he would have reacted if the news were true. Losing Nola...

  He beat his fists into his skull, ripped at his hair and fell to his knees. Throwing back his head, he roared to the sky. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, bright lights beginning to glow in the sky.

  A debate rang out, some warriors believing Zion, some doubting him. Seven paid no heed to anyone, gliding to the center of the circle to lodge his scythe in the ice.

  The assembly had officially begun.

  In fifteen minutes, Seven would finish with roll call, and a bloodbath would erupt.

  Erik glided forward, the Rod in hand. Frost glinted in his beard. Though he’d once spoken ancient Norse, he used Nola’s language today. “This is your chance, your only chance, to join my cause. While you were trapped, I used my freedom to my advantage. The measures I’ve taken to ensure victory are vast. I’ve done things you can’t imagine. Things you can’t protect yourself against.”

  “And yet, we remain alive,” someone said, and chuckles abounded.

  Bane believed the bastard planned to gain the trust of as many combatants as possible, and kill them when they least expected it. The viking had no king to command him, no reason to stop the war; but he had every reason to win it.

  With a humorless smile, Erik added, “If you want to live here the rest of your days, if you hate your realm for forcing you to fight and threatening your loved ones, you will cease killing and ensure a winner is never declared. If you want to win the war so your realm can enslave mine, I will come for you, and I will defeat you.”

  A debate rang out, Bane uninterested in listening.