Frost and Flame

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Frost and Flame Page 33

by Showalter, Gena


  Her palms sweat, and her stomach protested. Still she nodded. He palmed a dagger and then...he began to move around the circle, performing jumps, spins and crouches—slashing each man’s neck. Blood gushed from their wounds, pooling at her feet.

  Violence no longer fazed her; the sight and scent of death no longer sickened her. Instead, it helped combat her nervousness, and she began to hum with anticipation and delight.

  Instinct kicked in—he’d been right about that—and she knew what she had to do next.

  Bane arched a brow, waiting for her to act.

  She peeked at Zion. He’d taken Bane’s warning to heart, and hadn’t turned around. Very well. Trembling, she followed her inner promptings and stripped bare-butt naked, removing everything but the gauntlets. Cool air stroked her skin as she eased to her knees.

  Unconcerned about disease, she wet her hands in the pool of blood, and smeared crimson under her eyes, over her heart and across her belly. Droplets slid down, down, streaking the rest of her, blistering her flesh.

  Bane continued jumping and spinning, his movements graceful yet powerful. Hypnotic. The air crackled, lightning flashing.

  Dizziness invaded, screwing with her equilibrium, but she straightened and moved in a similar fashion. As she danced, the blood attracted the lightning. She absorbed the energy, until her cells crackled, too. Strength infiltrated her muscles...bones...marrow. Glorious strength. And she knew. Those lightning strikes were happening inside her mind, not around her.

  Her beasts were awakening!

  More. All! Weak? No longer. Never again would someone hurt her or her loved ones. Never again would someone threaten her life or family without suffering for it. Never again would someone make her do something she didn’t want to do.

  From a distance, she heard a beastly roar, soft but gaining traction. Then she heard another. And another. The sweetest music, sung by thousands of warriors come to life at last.

  Connection. Nola felt them, spirit, soul and body, a link forming. Like the one she shared with Bane, but weaker; the beasts fed her strength, and she knew, knew, she would never again experience withdrawal, would never have to deal with another disease. The past was the past, dead and gone, a new future forged.

  Abruptly, Bane went still. His head was tilted back, streaks of red forking across his throat. When the red bled his eyes, he slipped past the circle of corpses to cup her cheeks and fit his mouth over hers. An action he’d performed many times in the past, trading passion for passion. Now, a river of heat poured down her throat. Too hot, too hot! The pain!

  She screamed against his mouth, but she didn’t retreat, not even when pain graduated into agony, the worst she’d ever experienced. Cannot stop. Stopping equals death.

  Smoke wafted between them, and she breathed it in, letting tendrils fill her lungs. Heating...burning...boiling...melting. Power.

  Just as flames erupted over Nola, no part of her left unscathed, Bane leaped back. The blood smeared on her skin courtesy of the slain soldiers acted as some kind of life-giving fuel, providing another dose of strength. Strength she desperately needed as flames overtook her.

  Not just burning...old Nola was dying, a new Nola soon to be born. Let it happen. Don’t resist. Once this was done, she would have everything she’d ever wanted. A man who loved her. A family. A kingdom to rule.

  When her body was nothing more than a pile of ash, her spirit—mist—remained in the circle. The pain faded, her world dark and cold. One heartbeat. Two. Three.

  —Come back to me, love.—

  Bane’s voice invaded her mind, clearer and louder than ever before.

  Determined, she kicked and clawed, tying to fight her way out of the void. A fleck of light beckoned, and she fought harder. Just a little more...

  Tingles erupted in her torso, quickly spreading to her limbs. For a moment, her senses got scrambled. She tasted fire, smelled sounds, heard a drumbeat of emotion and felt the soft brush of colors against her flesh.

  As the light brightened, the kinks ironed out and her body was remade. Realization struck: her mind hadn’t just linked with her warriors. Her mind had also linked to a hive of past queens. Their knowledge, anyway. So much to soak up! And she could. She had time now.

  She’d done it, she’d survived! Nola wiggled her fingers and toes, experimenting with motion. No problems arose. Even the coldness vanished from her awareness, the blood gone. Instead, glowing, swirling designs—runes—etched her skin, like tiny rivers of molten gold. When the glow dimmed, a faint outline of the runes remained. So pretty.

  Bane stood outside the circle, his shoulders squared, his spine straight, his legs braced apart. Concern and relief dominated his features. Love sparkled over their connection...a connection now strengthening, just like her. Knew he loved me.

  He knelt before her, bowing his head. “All hail Queen Nola.”

  Queen Nola. Queen. Finally! Must guard my title at all cost.

  All cost?

  Deep down she knew instinct would drive other princesses to try to steal her position. Knew they would use her love for Bane, Vale and Zion against her. Might be better to cut all ties and—

  No! She cast the thoughts out of her head. Love was strength. Love was power. Let the other royals try to challenge her. They would not succeed.

  “Rise,” she said, and frowned. Her voice...her words had weight now, every single one like an armed soldier on a mission. They left her with a purpose, and they would fight to see it done.

  Bane obeyed with a growing smile. “You did it, love.” Bending down, he picked up the dress he’d obtained for her. He closed the distance and slipped the material over her head. “You survived.”

  “Something isn’t right,” Zion announced, disrupting the moment. “I sense something. Someone. A woman. And I can’t stop her approach, no matter how hard I try.”

  How had Nola forgotten the other man’s presence?

  “Is she a combatant?” Bane asked.

  She frowned and rubbed her chest. “Wait. I sense it, too. A tingle of awareness.” Not a combatant, then.

  Bane cursed. “Aveline,” he snarled.

  Between one blink and the next, a blonde woman teleported between them. And oh, yes. It was Aveline. She scanned the tunnel, taking everything in, then kicked Nola in the stomach and grinned evilly at Bane. “Hello, warrior. Did you miss me?”

  * * *

  BANE RELEASED A curt oath. “Aveline.”

  She’d plaited her golden hair into a crown and opted to wear a scarlet dress with mesh inserts to protect her vital organs. Rubies adorned her neck and wrists.

  Looking like a live wire of fury, Nola scrambled to her feet, her gauntlets glinting in the torchlight. “You murdered my mother, murdered Bane’s wife. You made a mistake, coming here. Today you die.”

  Aveline flicked her a brief glance and dismissed her as unimportant. “Tsk-tsk,” she said, peering at Bane. “Someone has been a naughty boy. Instead of killing the princess, you made her a queen.”

  Drawing a sword, Zion moved toward Bane to offer aid.

  Aveline pointed a finger at the dark-haired warrior. “Stay where you are. Do not move.”

  The power that laced her words... Though Zion strained to take a step forward, as evidenced by the vein bulging in his forehead, he remained in place.

  Bane and Aveline circled each other, Nola seemingly forgotten. As strong as Aveline was, she had no fear of a newly made queen. “How did you find me?” he asked. Think! Best course of action?

  “I can find you anywhere, anytime, darling. I am your queen, after all, despite what you’ve done this day. Once, I was your lover.” Aveline gave him another slow smile. “I suspected you had betrayed me, so I came to do your job for you. A quick in-and-out job. No one will ever know what transpired, for I will be the only one to leave this...” She scanned the tunnels and grimace
d. “Hovel.”

  “You are not my queen,” he snarled. “Not any longer. I rue the day we were ever lovers.”

  “Then you’re right.” Two daggers slid out from under her sleeves, her fingers wrapping around the hilts. “I’m not your queen. I’m your executioner.”

  * * *

  NOLA STUMBLED BACK as Bane and Aveline crashed together in a tangle of violence. Aveline’s speed and grace surprised her.

  Should she interfere? This was what Bane had wanted all along. The vengeance he’d craved from the beginning.

  He blocked the queen’s parries with mind-scrambling aggressiveness. Fierce and ferocious. But when he’d go to deliver a parry of his own, he would stop just short of contact.

  Nola clutched her stomach, confused. Now that she’d earned her full power, he should be able to harm the other royal, right? Or, did he secretly not want to harm his childhood sweetheart?

  Oh, he wanted to harm her, all right. His frustration was palpable, his fury growing by leaps and bounds.

  Why, why, why did he stop, then?

  Answers downloaded straight into Nola’s brain. He couldn’t harm her. Her instincts had been right. Only a queen could kill another queen.

  The inability to cause harm would be his downfall. Aveline landed blow after furious blow.

  Nola had to take over. “Bane,” she shouted, about to unleash her first command as a queen. Well, the first command he wouldn’t want to obey. He might resent her for it—no way; he’d changed—but he would live.

  Blood and sweat soaked him. Cuts and bruises littered his entire body. His reflexes were slowing.

  Before she could state the rest of her command, Aveline pressed her advantage, working her way behind Bane. She swooped down and slicked her blade across his Achilles tendons.

  As he dropped to his knees, facing Nola, the other queen tossed one of the blades.

  Too late to duck. The metal embedded in Nola’s heart. Nola dropped, the pain excruciating. Every time the organ beat, the wound grew longer, wider, tearing through ventricles. Her lungs filled to the brim with blood, drowning her. Can’t breathe. Need to breathe.

  A cloak of darkness creeped through her mind. But she still had a bird’s-eye view as Aveline fit her palms against Bane’s cheeks.

  “Be sure to watch,” the other queen told her. “This is the fate that will befall you, as well.”

  Little lines of black spread over Bane’s features, a truly gruesome sight. We’re losing, and Aveline is winning.

  Tears welled as Nola met Bane’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed. Weakness marched through her, gaining new ground by the minute.

  “I’m sorry,” he mouthed back, and her injured heart squeezed.

  What are you doing? Giving up? You are a queen! A leader of dragons, your word is law. You are mighty. Go save your mansel in distress.

  Yes. Yes! She wasn’t dead. Bane wasn’t dead, either, but he would be—soon. Unless she acted. A battle plan formed, courtesy of the hive mind. Actually, courtesy of one queen in particular. Jayne... Nola’s ancestor. They were related. Some of Jayne’s descendants had survived.

  What Jayne wanted her to do...it was a risky, terrible, awful, devastating, utterly insane plan. Nola wanted to cry and vomit and spend a few thousand years thinking about every aspect first. If anything went wrong...

  Don’t let anything go wrong.

  Fighting past the deluge of pain—her specialty—she crawled closer to Bane. She had to leave the blade embedded in her chest, lest she bleed out before she completed her mission. Almost there...

  Aveline laughed. “You can’t stop me, girl.”

  No wonder Bane had hated queens. The arrogance. The smugness. The hunger for power that ate away at Aveline’s humanity.

  A fiery dagger lay in the circle of flames, next to Bane’s feet. Nola knew she’d have only one shot at this. Hoping to distract Aveline with her words, keeping the other woman’s attention off her actions, she said, “I’m going to—” sneakily clasp the hilt of the dagger “—kill...”

  Still laughing, Aveline flittered to the side, out of Nola’s strike zone, without releasing her hold on Bane. “You’re going to kill me? When you can’t even reach me? Tsk-tsk. But go ahead. Please try. This will be fun—for me.”

  Nola looked to Bane. His gaze remained on her. Black lines forked his eyes. He was dying.

  “Love you,” he mouthed this time.

  He loves me! The confession gave Nola the strength she needed to struggle to her knees.

  Took everything she had to remain upright. “Forgive me,” she whispered—and plunged the dagger into his heart.

  He threw back his head and roared, the flames spreading through him, visible beneath the surface of his skin. His fell over, face-first, hitting the ground with a heavy thud, his eyes staring at nothing.

  Nola whimpered. Her beautiful golden god was dead. Killed by her hand. Just as Zion had predicted. The blade she held? Soaked with her lover’s blood.

  Aveline took another step to the side, putting more distance between them. She wasn’t laughing anymore. “Why?” she demanded.

  Nola allowed a smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll never remember this happened.”

  The color drained from the other woman’s face. She charged toward Nola, then. Too late. Nola had already smeared Bane’s blood on her hands. She closed her eyes and retreated into her head, fixating on the moments before the Blood Rite.

  The foundation beneath her feet vanished. Light-headed. Dizzy. Traveling back in time...

  When a new foundation appeared, she fluttered open her lids. There he was. Bane. Nola raced to him and threw her arms around him, sobbing, “You’re alive!”

  “Of course I am.” He enfolded her with his muscular arms, and she realized she was tangible. That Future Nola had merged with Past Nola. Meaning, they’d been mistaken about the nuts and bolts of the ability.

  This? She liked better. It was the equivalent of pressing a redo button.

  Zion stood off to the side, watching the proceedings. Which meant Bane hadn’t instructed him to turn his back yet.

  Should she have gone back further? Probably. But this was a first attempt, and she was learning as she went. Besides, she’d been tired, weak and injured.

  “What’s wrong, love?” Bane asked.

  “Aveline came,” she rushed out. “You weren’t able to land a blow. She was able to get you to your knees and drain you with her death touch, so I murdered you with a fiery dagger, just like Zion’s vision. I’m sorry! But I used your death to time travel and reset. I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Zion, she commanded you to remain motionless, and you were helpless to obey.”

  Both males absorbed the news, looking like they could barely contain their dismay and fury.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Bane said, caressing Nola’s cheek.

  “Don’t be sorry,” she replied, aching for him. “You’re the one who died in agony by my hand.”

  “Let us blame the one who is truly responsible. Aveline.”

  “Agreed.” Though she wanted to hold on to him forever, she let go. “We don’t have much time. I didn’t go back very far.” And now Nola was in her pre-Blood Rite body. They had to do the ceremony again. The pain...

  Minimal in the big scheme of things.

  “This time, we have an advantage,” he said. “Get in the circle.”

  He performed the ceremony again, every motion and word the same. Only, they both demonstrated more stress and strain. No matter. They remained aware and ready for Aveline’s arrival.

  Must win this time. Must win. Instinct said, You can’t go back to the same moment twice.

  Nola arose from the ashes, more determined than ever. They wasted no time with chatter. She donned the dress and palmed two daggers. He helped her.

  “I n
eed you to stand over there with Zion,” she said, pointing to the far wall. “Trust me to do this, Bane. Please. I will be the hand of your vengeance, I swear it.”

  “Your life is all that matters to me,” he replied fiercely. “Whatever happens, survive or kill me again to travel back.”

  Go back to a time even farther back? Risking this future? If anything changed farther back, they might not reach this moment a second—third—time. No, Aveline had to die this round.

  He waited until she’d responded with a curt nod, then stalked to Zion’s side, as requested.

  Nola steeled her resolve and—

  Aveline teleported into the tunnel, just as before. Before the other woman had time to gain her bearings, Nola blocked out their audience, released a war cry and lunged at her opponent.

  Using the skills Bane and Zion taught her, she treated Aveline’s thigh as a step stool, swung a leg around her shoulders and hooked a knee over her throat. Then, Nola dropped her upper half forward, swinging down and flipping Aveline to her back.

  The second the other woman crash-landed, losing her breath, Nola was on top of her, whaling. The gauntlets protected her knuckles from Aveline’s teeth, while the claws shredded her flesh. Knew I’d need them.

  Aveline tried to buck her off and flunked. F-, bitch.

  Hold up. No, Aveline hadn’t bucked. She’d maneuvered her legs up. Now, she crisscrossed those legs around Nola and thrust her to the ground. Immediately Aveline rose up, reversing their positions. With her knees pinning Nola’s shoulders, she whaled on Nola.

  Stars flashed through her vision, and nausea churned in her stomach. Adrenaline surged, helping to obstruct the awful sensations. When Aveline’s next series of punches rang her bell, one of Nola’s eyes swelled shut. Dizziness consumed her, but so did another idea.

  As a queen, she had more power than she’d had as a princess. To teleport, she had only to think where she wanted to be.

 

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