Frostbite (#4 Destroyers Series)

by Holly Hook

  "You know, none of this is fair," Gary said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. It tickled and tingled as he did so. "You've never really gotten to be yourself in the past year. All you get to do is boring Elder Council meetings and tutoring. Someone our age shouldn't have to deal with that."

  She nodded, loving his touch on the back of her head. It made everything seem okay, even though it was far from it. He was right. Again. She was sixteen, going on seventeen this August. She had a great boyfriend she never got to spend time with and a father who only seemed to be concerned about how good of a leader she could be. Well, most of the time. Since Mobley, he'd been talking to her more.

  Gary's hand settled on her back, pulling her closer. She wanted to melt into him and into his world. He didn't have to worry about all the things she did. If he wanted, he could take off and go to the movies or crash on the couch and watch TV. She hadn't done anything like that since she and Leslie had gone to the theater together on her last birthday.

  "We shouldn't," she said as Gary's face drifted towards hers. Janelle hoped her eyes told him different. It was just the mask speaking, anyway.

  His hand settled on her bare skin on her elbow. He smiled, and it was the best thing she'd seen in a while from him. The last time they'd gotten to really make out was on the beach on Alara, right before the Outbreakers had kidnapped all the Tempests. That moment seemed like light years away.

  A big part of her very, very badly wanted to give in to Gary's smile, but the other part, the mask, was growing heavier every day and every second that Sophia and Andrina were on the loose. It was as if she was going goddess already, drawing farther and farther away from the people she loved.

  She couldn't let that happen.

  Janelle embraced Gary, planting her lips on his, taking in his smell and the moment before it was gone forever. He returned it, making her gasp for breath and claw at the back of his shirt, his Florida shirt that she'd bought for him while they were on the run, way back when she first learned she was a Tempest.

  Her cell phone rang, urgent and demanding.

  Janelle was tempted to let it ring. Again. And again. She could leave it behind and sink into Gary's embrace, but at last, she stiffened and reached for her phone.

  Next to her, Gary sighed in disappointment that she shared.

  Once again, her life would not leave her alone.

  Then again, what life? She had never asked for any of this.

  Like Gary said: it wasn't fair.

  "Hello?" Janelle injected her tired frustration into her voice.

  But Mel didn't seem to have noticed. "I think I have a lead on Sophia," he said. "You had better come back into the lobby and check it out."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Oh, god," Gary breathed before they had even made it all the way back through the rotating doors of the hospital.

  He had it right. Janelle craned her head to look around his black hair. The television was glowing into the room, and Mel stood with his back to them, facing it.

  Janelle recognized the image from the years she had spent living here.

  It was the airport, surrounded by the glowing reds and yellows of ambulances and fire trucks. Blues from police cars flashed at the camera, over the shoulder of a reporter trying to keep up a blank face. It wasn't working so well. The man kept glancing over his shoulder as if afraid something would creep up on him at any second.

  Flash Freeze Injures Dozens at Airport, Security Says.

  Mel waved the two of them over. Janelle rushed up to him. "Did this just come on?" she asked, eyeing the screen.

  Mel nodded, stony-faced. "I don’t see any reports of deaths yet, but that could change."

  Why hadn't she thought of this?

  Of course Sophia would have tried to find a way out of the area. A bus. A train. Or the airport. She'd wasted time, sending Kenna and the search party out into the woods to hunt for her. All Sophia would have had to do was hitchhike on the freeway.

  Janelle almost pushed him out of the way to get to the television. Not that it would make a difference. This must have happened no less than half an hour ago, while they were busy loafing around in the parking ramp. Waves of panic ran through her guts. Her stomach protested. "We need to send Kenna out there. I'll meet her--"

  Gary took her arm with enough force to make her start.

  "You're not going."

  "Yes, I am." What was his problem? Was his male pride hurt again?

  "You can't. Hyrokkin the demon probably just sent out a big signal to Andrina to come and find her. The second it gets cloudy or rains, she's there. I guarantee you."

  "If she's even interested." Janelle pulled out of his grip and walked to the window. Puffy clouds rolled above, but for now, there were no signs of storms. "Hyrokkin has such a bad temper that Andrina probably won't want anything to do with her. Even the gods didn't want to confront her, remember?"

  A black-clad figure appeared in the window's reflection, next to hers. "Gary's right, Ma'am. It's too dangerous for you to go personally. I recommend you stay here with Leslie and Paul. We should send Kenna in your place. She won't be nearly as endangered as any of us would be."

  Janelle couldn't deny the logic. He and Gary both had a point. If she went, Andrina could take her captive and wait for Paul to gain the power to give her his breath. Only Kenna could resist both Andrina and Hyrokkin, even if she wasn't the best one to face Andrina's attacks. "Okay," she said, pulling out her phone. "Kenna gets her chance. I hate to send her in there by herself."

  Gary drew her close before she could make the call, kissing her so hard that she could sense the stares of the receptionists on them both, aching for the past that they had no idea that she didn't have.

  * * * * *

  Leslie noticed how out of breath Janelle seemed when she came through the door to Paul's room.

  "I have a feeling Paul might be discharged soon," she said, leaning over to tie her shoe at the end of the bed. She must have bad news, because it seemed to take her a long time to get it tied, like she was delaying it. "They're going to need to make room."

  "Make room?" Paul sputtered next to her. "You mean--"

  "Hyrokkin just attacked the airport."

  Leslie sat upright from the hospital bed, stomach lurching. She watched as Janelle stuffed something in her pocket. "It was on the news? Turn it back on."

  Janelle let out a breath, like she was relieved about something, but Leslie couldn't imagine what. There was nothing relieving about the airport getting attacked.

  "We're sending Kenna," Janelle continued, flipping through the channels until she got to the local one. It was on a commercial break. Something about people dropping everything and heading to some furniture sale. "Gary and Mel think Andrina might show up there. It does look like a stunt Hyrokkin might be pulling."

  Leslie's TracPhone was vibrating in her pocket.

  Her heart leapt, and for a second, she forgot all about what was playing out on the television in front of them.

  "Maybe your mom's calling you," Paul said. His eyebrows rose in hope.

  "She's the only one I gave this number to. Besides you and Janelle," she added quickly. Her heart thudded as she pulled the phone from her pocket. It couldn't be anyone else.

  Even Janelle stopped talking and watching the TV. "Pick it up," she urged.

  But it was a text, like the countless ones she'd gotten from her mother before. Usually it was to stop at the store and pick up some snack foods because Brett was coming over.

  But it wasn't one of those. Not this time.

  She held it up to the light. Worried. Come home. We'll talk. So much stuff going on. Brett dropped me off.. Be there by 3. I can't wait too long. Love, Mom.

  Love, Mom.

  Paul blinked at her, asking permission to look. Leslie nodded. Tears filled her eyes, but they weren't the same kind that had been there two days ago during her confrontation. This was different.

  Her mother didn't hate her after all.<
br />
  Paul put his chin on her shoulder, reading. "So she did come around." There was disbelief in his voice. "I think you should go. Sounds like she's scared about the news. I don't blame her, of course. Do you want us to come with you?"

  Leslie would have liked that very much, but it was already one in the afternoon, and she wasn’t sure what time today Paul would get to leave. It might not be until this evening for all she knew, and this opportunity would be gone by then.

  Even if this was just a meeting to say goodbye--and it seemed like it might be--it was better than parting on the bad terms they had yesterday. It might be like Paul's last meeting with his father and his uncle. She could tell by her boyfriend's gaze that he was thinking the same thing, too. He understood. It was a personal moment she needed to go and have for some closure.

  "I think I need to go by myself," Leslie said. "Can Mel drive me?"

  "I'm sure he can." Janelle dug in her pockets again, producing a green bill. "Give him this tip when you head down there. He's been driving a lot lately. Tell him I sent you." A smile warmed Janelle's features. "I think you're pretty safe to go there at the moment. The airport's going to be sucking up everyone's attention. But just in case, would you like me to come with you? I can sit in the car if it would be too awkward for me to come in."

  "That would be fine." Friends to the end.

  Leslie kissed Paul goodbye and practically raced Janelle to the elevators. Soon, she'd leave her fight with her mother behind her. Even if her mother chose to go her own way, this might be for the best.

  "What are we going to do about the airport?" she asked as the elevator descended.

  "I can't go." Janelle tapped the buttons in front of her. Leslie could tell she was falling back into that muddy memory of nearly being turned to Andrina's side. "Well, it makes sense, I guess. It would be too dangerous."

  Leslie slapped her on the arm. "And you went to Yellowstone when I was practically dragging you back. While you knew it might blow up. And don't forget Mobley."

  "I didn't mean to go to Mobley. Thomas Curt's sons kind of dragged me into the car in the middle of the crowd. I have to tell him to leave the campsite when we get back there, by the way. I don't care if Andrina dumped him and he doesn't have a place to live. I don't want him hanging around any of us."

  "Agreed."

  "And we need to move again soon." Janelle patted her pocket. "Tell your mother she's welcome to come with us if she wants. I won't mind having her."

  It was a lie, but her best friend was making the offer for her. Leslie would do the same for Janelle in a heartbeat. "No way she'll go for that." Leslie was just glad if they could part without hating each other. Her mother wasn't going to move in with a bunch of Tempests even if she got over the whole Outbreaker thing.

  But this was better than nothing.

  Janelle tipped Mel before they got into the car, which seemed to lift his mood. "Go buy yourself something later," she told him, settling into the back beside Leslie. "I don't think we'll be at Leslie's for very long. Three's when her mother has to leave again. She must have come back to get some more of her stuff."

  That made sense. Her mother wouldn't want to part with her collection of jewelry, for one thing. Or the margarita mix. Leslie hadn't seen her packing either one when she'd left. Whatever the reason, it felt as if a dark cloud inside of her had cleared up. Of course her mother still loved her. She was just freaked out when the bomb dropped like any normal person would be.

  Though freaked out more than most.

  Mel remembered the drive through the subdivision to Leslie's house, except for the pothole. They rolled over that again. Leslie almost bit her tongue as she grabbed the seat. Nervous tingles rushed under her skin, but this time, it was a good nervous. She exchanged smiles with Janelle. Even a bit of sunlight filtered through the hazy sky above for a second.

  They pulled into Leslie's driveway, and she could spot the television on inside. It was on some soap opera. Something her mother liked. The outline of a cardboard box peeked over the windowsill of the front window. Packing, her mom must be. It seemed that Brett had dropped her off, because her car wasn't in the driveway. Smart. It was best to keep a low profile right now.

  "I'll stay out here," Mel said, reaching for a crossword puzzle on the passenger seat. Its folds and wrinkles told Leslie that he'd spent a lot of time on it. Not that she blamed him. "Just be out soon. I don't think it's a good idea to sit here for long."

  "Andrina's paying attention to the airport, I'm sure," Leslie said, pushing open the door. "Come on."

  Janelle glanced down the street as if something had hit her. "You know what? I'll wait in the car. I have to think about a few things."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah. Your mom might not want to see me again."

  Leslie turned as Janelle climbed back into the car, leaving the back door open. Her friend fiddled with something in her pocket, but she didn't stop to watch. "Mom?" she asked, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold.

  The television played out the soap opera, barely audible. Her mother was nowhere to be seen on the couch, although her indent was still there on the left side. Boxes lined the edges of the walls, and the closet was wide open, empty of its shoes and accessories. Her mother had been packing a lot over the past couple of days, maybe making several trips in the process. That was good. If something happened here, at least she wouldn't lose everything that she owned.

  Thuds rang from down the hall. Of course. Her mom would be gathering up all her clothes. That made sense. "Mom. I'm here," she said, bolting down the hall and turning the corner to her room.

  "So it worked."

  Leslie froze in the doorway.

  Thomas Curt stood there in place of her mother.

  He frowned with regret as his gaze fell on her, almost as if he was sorry that it was him and not her mother standing here. Shirts lay everywhere and none of them were in boxes. He had only been throwing them around, making all this noise to lure her back here.

  Her mother wasn't even here. It was all a lie. Leslie was willing to bet that if she looked, her phone number would still be sitting on the kitchen table, forgotten.

  With horror she realized that Thomas Curt had broken in and seen it. Then to disguise himself, he'd sent a text instead of a call.

  "What do you want?" Anger and hatred rose inside of her, and it wasn't all directed at him. Leslie wanted to run back out of the house, slamming and breaking every door in the process. She wanted to run down the street, past the rental car and away from here forever. Her mother hadn't come back. She was still out with Brett somewhere, probably eating a fancy lunch at some sit-down place where you had to dress up and put a napkin on your lap. "Where is my mom?"

  Thomas Curt held up a hand. He kept the other in his pocket. "I don't know. I saw her leave with some boxes this morning, and she didn't come back. At work, maybe?"

  It was Sunday. She didn't have work. The thought only turned the red inside of her into purple.

  "But you sent that text," Leslie said. She didn't back down. It didn't even matter that Thomas Curt had lured her here. He was an Outbreaker, but so was she now. He didn't have any power over her any longer. He couldn't threaten to have her turned. And she wasn't mature yet. As far as he knew, she was useless to him. "What are you doing here? Get out of my house!"

  He shook his head and kept his hand up. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I'm…not acting of my own accord. I'm sure that's something you understand."

  All the anger inside her flattened like road kill.

  Yes, she did.

  Thomas Curt was under Andrina's influence, too. The look on his face told her that it wasn't his choice. None of this was his choice. Pain ridged the corners of his eyes. The woman who had betrayed him in the worst way possible was now using him as a puppet, and he had no way to cut the strings.

  "Then Andrina wanted me to come here," she finished for him, backing towards the hall. Her tough voice was melting away, rev
ealing the terror underneath. "When did she give you that command, huh?" If it was at the campsite, she had to know. It was one thing she could tell Janelle about.

  "She called me about an hour and a half ago. Right after the airport was attacked."

  "She called you? And you picked up the phone?" The anger returned. Leslie wanted to throttle him right there. She searched for something to throw, but there was nothing but a stray shoe on the floor. It flew past the side of his head as she heaved it at him. "You talked to her?"

  Thomas Curt straightened up, not even looking at the shoe on the floor behind him. He said nothing, but Leslie knew what it meant. How long had he and Andrina been together? Judging from the misery in his slouch, more than a short while.

  "A few times in the past week," he admitted, sheepish. "I didn't know the hazards."

  Janelle had been right. She should have never let Eric and her father bring him to the campsite. He might have already let its location slip. If they didn't move right away, they were all in danger.

  Leslie had to warn her right this second.

  But a click made her stop in the doorway, mid-step.

  Thomas Curt had a pistol pointed directly at her. He trembled as he shook his head. "I'm sorry. Truly, I am. But you have to stay here for a while."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sophia's world had turned gray.

  Distant.

  Cold.

  Filled with milling bodies and shouting.

  She blinked.

  Focused.

  She was in the airport, in the main lobby. The last Sophia remembered, she was coming out of the bathroom behind her. Hyrokkin had taken over again, making her walk right into the milling crowd of people. Sophia remembered nothing after that, except the most terrible cold sweeping over her and rushing through every cell of her being.

  And screaming. It pierced through her memory as she took in the scene playing out in front of her.

  Sluggish bodies littered the floor everywhere. Men in suits. Families. Old people. They all shivered as the surrounding paramedics--an army in their white shirts and radios--helped them onto stretchers and wheeled them out the doors that had been propped open at the entrance. Blankets unfolded. Radios beeped. Hands gesticulated. Police ran around, gloved and hurried. Warm spring air washed in, bringing with it the taste of approaching rain. It drifted over the lobby. The place looked more like an assembly to practice an emergency drill than an actual scene from real life.