Found by Frost: Wings, Wands and Soul Bonds Book 1

by Bolryder, Terry

  I creep along the rooftop, unseen by either the woman or the man as they turn and walk down a nearby alley.

  She’s not paying attention, looking down at her phone as she follows the route to where her ride will pick her up on the other side of the alley.

  She’ll never make it there if I don’t move soon.

  I lower myself over the side of the wall, then drop quietly to the ground right in front of the man who stops and stares at me with wild eyes.

  He glares over my shoulder as his prey disappears into a cab that pulls up in front of her.

  Then he quickly slides his hand, which was holding a knife, into the pocket of his long coat.

  He lets out a huff of frustration and turns to leave, but I grab him by the back of his coat, stopping him.

  He whirls, trying to jerk out of my hold but only managing to lose his coat.

  He lunges toward me, aiming a punch at my face, but I dodge to the side easily. I have fought much faster foes than him.

  I pull out my phone as I continue to dodge his clumsy punches. I scroll to his profile and begin to read his offenses, still ducking side to side as his face gets only redder and more frustrated.

  Finally, when I decide I’m wasting time, I turn and shove him hard in the chest with one hand, sending him flying back into a metal garbage can, which catches him as it falls over.

  He stares up at me in shock, trying to push garbage away as I approach.

  I know he’s surprised. He has half a foot of height on me and a lot of muscle. Whereas I’m a not-very-tall girl who likes her pizza.

  That doesn’t change the fact that I’m incredibly strong.

  I stomp a foot on his pant leg to hold him in place, then crouch to look him in the eyes as he tries to scrabble backward.

  Cowards like this only want to fight those who can’t fight back.

  I sigh as I read his offenses out loud to him again. His uncle is a prominent judge, so they keep letting him out on low bail to reoffend.

  His eyes are crazy as he watches me, not caring about the victims I’m listing, but only about his own skin.

  “You know, I really hate rapists,” I say, tucking my phone back into my pocket.

  His eyes narrow cruelly as his lips curve up in a smirk. “The police know I’m innocent. They’ll let me out again and again.” His eyes roam over me. “Not my type, but maybe I’ll visit you next.”

  “Ooh, promises promises, big boy,” I say, reaching forward to grab him by the collar, jerking him in close.

  My knee moves over his groin, and though he struggles, he’s finally realizing he’ll never be able to get away from me. “How does it feel to be the one who is powerless?” I murmur against his ear as he lets out a little whimper.

  “Let me go,” he says. “I’ll pay you. I’ll get you a job. My uncle knows everyone.”

  I press down a little harder on his balls, and his face goes white in the dim moonlight bouncing off the walls of the alley. “He doesn’t know me.”

  “Let me go. Shit, what are you doing?” He’s genuinely panicked now. He knows I’m going to take something from him. Something he can’t get back.

  He knows he’s powerless to stop me. Like the women he attacked were powerless to stop him.

  And he knows, when he looks into my merciless eyes, that I’m not going to stop. Just like he won’t.

  I slam my knee down, and he lets out an ear-piercing shriek as I stand to move away from him.

  I stride down the alley, grateful that with my full-face black ski mask, he only saw my eyes. I glance back just once to see him rolling on the ground, flailing and screaming.

  People are flooding into the alley, wanting to see what’s wrong.

  I pull out my phone, scrolling through the pictures of his victims. The women brave enough to try to protest, to get him put away, only to see him put back out on the street.

  I wish I could tell them they are safe now, but the truth is there are more men like him out here.

  But I’m here too. And as long as I have strength, I’ll be here, watching out.

  I pull my hood up over my head and hail a cab, ready to disappear into the night before anyone suspects a thing.

  But just as I’m about to get into the car, I feel an odd sensation like someone’s watching me.

  I glance up at the roof, wondering if I see something moving in the darkness. But by the time I blink, it’s gone, making me wonder if I was just imagining the whole thing.

  As I sit down in the cab, I still feel a little uneasy.

  Because the face my mind conjured in the darkness, when I thought someone was watching me from the rooftop, was Brett’s, and he seemed angry.

  Yes, I definitely must be imagining things if I thought I saw something like that.

  6

  Brett (Boreas)

  As I stride down the street toward Avery’s place of work, I’m still furious about last night.

  I decided to follow her when she went out, just in case a chaos prince decided to do the same.

  I can’t even tell her I’m furious because she doesn’t know I was following her. She doesn’t know I was watching as she took such incredible risks.

  Though I can’t disagree with her motivations, I don’t want her to get in trouble with human police.

  I’m still stunned from hearing her read off the list of crimes that man had committed. How was he still out walking around? In my kingdom, he’d have been put down like a mad dog before he even finished his first attack—or sent to the chaos realm.

  Then again, humans can’t sense chaos like fae can.

  Now that I think about it, I really can’t blame Avery for her actions, but I don’t want her alone in the dark.

  Not with a chaos prince out there hunting her. Looking to harvest her magic and leave her a shell of herself.

  I’m not going to tell the others about this, not yet. I’m going to approach her, cautiously, and see if I can get her to see sense.

  No one gave us rules for how to deal with beacons. What we can say or not. So I’m free to use whatever measures necessary.

  At least that’s how I see it.

  A badly painted sign with a cartoonish dragon on it hangs down in front of the store where Avery works. The dragon is holding a board game and smiling, and I bite back a chuckle while thinking of any real dragon’s face if he saw this.

  “What’s so funny?” Avery’s sharp voice startles me as she opens the door to glare at me, making my smile immediately drop.

  She’s beautiful. From her furrowed brow to her honest eyes to the little dimple in her chin that gets deeper when she’s thinking. Her lips are pursed but, even then, utterly kissable.

  Maybe I need that third suppressor after all.

  I take deep breaths as I sit down at one of the tables while she tells me she needs to help someone and will be right back.

  She’s wearing a casual, long-sleeved tee over jeans, her hair in a messy bun, but what she’s wearing doesn’t matter. Her magic calls to me.

  I glance at a nearby table where some ill-groomed humans are glaring at me over the tiny figures on the huge table game they are playing.

  “What are you looking at?” One of them sneers, and I shrug and turn back to face nothing in particular. My eyes can’t help wandering back to Avery, though.

  “My dragon takes out your mage,” one of the guys says, knocking aside another piece.

  I turn, staring at them sardonically. “You know, it would be the other way around. A mage would always beat a dragon.”

  “No.” The man pushes his oversized glasses up his nose. “Shut up, pretty boy. A dragon could just eat a mage.”

  I grin. “Not if a spell turned him into an ice block first.”

  They just stare at me even harder, and I’m not sure what’s so odd to them.

  Then Avery walks back into the room. Their eyes go to her and they nudge each other lasciviously, and I don’t care what they think of me anymore.

  “Du
de, we should ask her out again,” one mutters to the other.

  “Yeah. She says she doesn’t date customers, but we’re different, right?”

  “Right,” the first says. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

  They snicker, and I doubt she’s missing much where they are concerned.

  I wish they’d seen her yesterday in the alley. I’m glad she’s aware of her fae strength at least. Because she has the genuine allure most of our kind do, despite her attempts not to draw any attention.

  She glances at me, then them, with a look of exasperation. “Guys, you need to buy something if you’re going to stay here.”

  One of them shakes his head. “We’ll leave when we finish our game.”

  She lets out a sigh and gestures for me to follow her to a table on the other side of the store where they shouldn’t be able to hear us.

  Both men look disappointed, and I hear one mutter about me being a ‘Chad’, but after a withering glare from me, they meekly go back to their game.

  I sit down across from Avery, and she leans back in her chair, looking tired.

  “Why are you here?” She glares at me, and her long lashes over her gorgeous dark-brown eyes make it hard to remember what I was thinking.

  I decide on the straightforward approach. “I saw you last night.”

  She does a good job of appearing to remain calm, though I can see a tightness at the side of her jaw that wasn’t there before. She glances at her customers just to make sure they’re still avidly involved in their game, which they are.

  She turns back to me, tenting her hands in front of her on the table as she leans forward. “What did you see?”

  Her tone is calm, but the sparks in her eyes are anything but.

  A tingle of anticipation surges through me. My soul match is strong.

  “Enough,” I say firmly. “Enough to know you are different.”

  Her face falls just for a second, and I regret what I said immediately.

  “I didn’t mean in a bad way,” I say quickly. I lean in conspiratorially. “I’m like you.”

  Her eyes widen as she leans back. “Bullshit,” she says, glancing over me.

  I put my arm on the table, elbow down and hand raised. “I’ll prove it.” I’ve seen humans use this primitive tactic to test strength.

  She raises an eyebrow. “Why would I arm-wrestle you? You’re a guy. You’ll win. What will it prove?”

  I keep my hand out. “But you could beat any other guy, couldn’t you?” I keep my voice low. “Any normal guy.”

  She stares at my hand almost as if she’s tempted. Then she sits back, shaking her head. “Even if you did see me last night, so what? My life is none of your business, as I keep trying to tell you.”

  I take a deep breath for patience. I’m supposed to be home, protecting my kingdom, making sure everyone is safe and happy.

  Not here, trying to convince an errant fae princess not to take risks.

  But it is my job to protect her from chaos.

  “You’re strong,” I say, finally relaxing in my chair when it’s clear she won’t let me prove my strength through arm wrestling. “You know that you’re strong. But you need to stop going out alone at night, because you just might meet something stronger than you are.”

  She scoffs, and I wonder if she truly hasn’t met any paranormals in her exploits.

  Then again, she’d be so much stronger than most of them that she might not even realize the difference between fighting a wolf shifter or a human if they’re both in human form.

  But she hasn’t had to face a fae yet.

  “They are out there,” I say quietly, glancing at the men to make sure they’re still arguing about mages and dragons. “Things that can best you. At least you as you currently are.”

  She sucks in her cheeks, chewing one of them as she stares out the window at the street. Then she shakes her head and puts her arm on the table. “Fine. Prove that you’re like me, and maybe I’ll listen.”

  I put my arm up, and when our hands clasp together, light bursts through my body, raging and hot. I close my eyes to focus and feel her hand shake slightly as she starts to apply strength to the hold.

  I allow her to win at first, letting her push my hand down to her side of the table. I feel her strength and yes—I’m ashamed to admit it—enjoy her touch a little longer.

  She’s strong and I’m impressed by her, but now I need her to see that she isn’t the top of the food chain anymore.

  I quickly pull her hand back up, and as she watches me with eyes that are widening by the second, I push her hand down until it touches the tabletop.

  We both stay there for a frozen moment, staring at each other as her lips part slightly and her eyes dart to my mouth.

  For a moment, I almost think she can feel our connection. Her eyes are almost glazed.

  Then she snaps out of it, jerking her hand back. “You’re a man. That doesn’t prove anything,” she says. Though, her eyes say otherwise.

  “You know it does,” I say. “I can show you so much more about yourself. Just do me a favor and stop going out at night. Before you meet stronger than you.”

  She frowns. “Like you, stalker?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Maybe. Since I can’t let you get hurt.”

  The customers are calling her for something, and she gives them a wave before walking behind me to lean over me, putting her mouth next to my ear.

  Her lips brush my skin, and it’s the most heavenly, confusing feeling as my body reacts instantly to her touch.

  “I trust no one,” she whispers softly. “I need no one. And I don’t care what I am or where I come from, so just stay out of my way.”

  Then she goes to help the customers and waves her hand at me as if I need to disappear.

  I’ve said all I can, and she clearly isn’t going to cooperate.

  I sigh and get up to leave, but this isn’t over.

  She’s my soul match and she’s in danger, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her, whether she wants my protection or not.

  I swear it on my life.

  7

  Avery

  My hand still tingles from where he touched me.

  My brain still can’t comprehend that he pushed my hand down.

  No one that I have ever met since I was very little has ever been stronger than me.

  A part of me can’t stop thinking about it. Another part no longer feels safe in this world.

  I tell myself I must have been nervous. He’s so handsome I can barely stand to look at him, and his touch lights up nerve endings that feel like they are coming to life for the very first time.

  Yes, that’s it. I probably lost my strength from pure arousal.

  I frown because that’s not reassuring.

  Why did he say he was like me?

  Why was he warning me away from others who might be stronger? He knows nothing about me. We ate pizza together once and have had a few awkward run-ins.

  Plus, he’s the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to.

  But that’s all.

  I try not to think about it later that night as I’m getting ready to go out, checking and sheathing my daggers.

  I rarely have to use them, so even if I were to meet someone stronger than I am now, I’m fairly confident my weapons could make up the difference.

  As I zip up my jacket and step over to my window, I feel a chill of apprehension and remember Brett’s face, cool with warning.

  But he doesn’t get to tell me what to do. No one does.

  I’ve been alone for so long.

  I open my window and pull myself onto the ledge just in case stalker Brett is watching my hallway or something. I slide the window shut, not worried someone will break into a second-floor apartment with nothing to steal.

  I glance around, making sure no one is watching, and then drop to the ground, bending my knees almost to the concrete to absorb the pressure.

  It doesn’t hurt at all.
>
  I shove a hand in my pocket as I stand, pulling out my phone to look at the description of the man I’m going after.

  It’s a man who set a homeless man on fire and got away with it due to a lack of witnesses.

  Since he got away, I know he’ll be in the same part of town, hoping to do it again.

  I walk faster than other people, but not so fast it would draw attention.

  The night air is cold, and when I breathe out, it creates clouds that I break when I walk through them.

  I take a few buses to reach my destination, a sketchy part of town filled with strip clubs and bars on one side and pawn shops on the other.

  Women walk the street, approaching the men coming out of the clubs.

  I hope they stay safe tonight.

  I wait until I feel what I’m looking for.

  There it is, that black thread of…something…that helps me find what I’m looking for.

  I follow it, trying not to draw attention as I turn down one street then another, and the night slowly gets darker and colder.

  I’m nearly to an abandoned office building when someone walks out of the shadows and into the light of the lone streetlamp flickering far overhead.

  He’s wearing a low-brimmed hat, and his hands are in the pockets of his nearly floor-length coat.

  When he tips up his head, all I can see are sparkling black eyes. “Looking for me?”

  The black thread I’m used to following—that I sense with something other than my eyes but know I’m not imagining—turns into a giant cloud around him. It spreads out into the night, blacker than the deepest darkness.

  It feels sickly, as if tendrils are reaching toward me.

  I’ve never seen anyone with more than a tiny stream emanating from their heart.

  Whereas this man, under this coat, in his very being, seems to be made of it.

  Yet he’s human, at least in form.

  It never occurred to me that a human could be this evil. What the actual hell has he done?

  This whole thing feels like a trap.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. I wanted to see how strong your chaos-sensing powers are.”