Hard Frost- Depths of Winter

by Thia Mackin

  “What you did was selfless and brave. If you were ever the type of person who could turn a blind eye to rape, the Goddess would not have blessed my life with you, Sarki Elayne Kinan. You bring joy and light to Triswon’s and my life.”

  I wrapped her tightly in a hug. “Good thing you two are stuck with me for eternity.”

  She squeezed me back. “Speaking of eternity, what do you have planned for your birthday?”

  A snort escaped as I sipped my ale. “Twenty-five years is hardly a droplet. However, things on Terra have been tense. Wolfman rumors linked to a serial killer in the Midwest. No paranormal would be so stupid. Being outed as murderers would start a witch hunt to put Salem to shame. Still, it makes things tense—especially at Azez Holding. So Rankar and I are going somewhere secluded for a couple days to play with the explosives I bought off Elizar Stone and spend some time together.”

  Eliecha frowned, touching her temple. My hands covered hers. “Hey. Do I need to send Hypnos for Triswon?”

  She leaned her cheek into our joined hands. “No, Snowflake. Just promise me to be careful until the Goddess tells me what is coming.”

  Nodding, I squeezed her fingers gently. “Promise.”

  Her smile didn’t reassure me as she shooed me out the door, letting me know she planned a nap as she waited for her husband to return. I walked her to her bedroom before calling Hypnos to urge Triswon to hurry. When he arrived to check on her, I headed home with a feeling of dread myself.

  The headline on the newspaper lying on the corner of the table screamed “CAN THEY CATCH THE IOWA SAVAGE BEFORE HE KILLS AGAIN?”

  I couldn’t help my grimace as I glanced away from the smiling family photos taken from the victims’ homes. Seventeen victims, five families, three months. If they didn’t catch the serial killer soon, the public would start lynching people. Worse, whispers from the Enlightened community—both on Terra and Elysii—suggested that the perpetrator might actually be paranormal. If so and the unEnlightened got their hands on the murderer first… we were all busted.

  Hypnos landed on the edge of the table, carefully moving to cover the pictures. ::No be sad.::

  A scratch under his chin lightened both our moods, though the front-page photo of the family lingered in the back of my mind. As I reheated the breakfast plate Rankar had left for me in the microwave, I wondered where my lover had snuck away to this morning. Barely six a.m. now, he must have left hours ago.

  The blue drakyn sent me an image of Rankar from Thanatos’s point of view, in a meeting with Alala, Fwen, and Belisario. ::Love you. Miss you. Sleepy.::

  The corner of my mouth quirked up before I could stop it. “Tell him ‘me too’.”

  ::Knows.:: Hypnos hopped to my shoulder, leaving me unclear whether he relayed the message or just assumed his bondmate knew. ::Run?::

  My stomach clenched at the thought. In fact, leaving the house at all caused the hairs on my neck to raise. My Gift tingled in the back of my head, but none of the doors opened to give me a vision. Instead, the urge to turn on the TV hit me—something I could not recall voluntarily doing in my adult life.

  Placing a hand on Hypnos’s back to keep him from falling, I sprinted to the den to turn on the television. A sports channel talk show greeted me. Flipping through the channels, I stopped when a ticker at the bottom repeated “Breaking news” over and over. I turned the volume up, but it wasn’t necessary. A homemade video took up the entire screen. Somewhere in Iowa, this neighborhood had hosted a block party. Someone shakily recorded the guests drinking, laughing, and waving at the camera… until a woman on the edge of the crowd screamed. Another woman joined in. The camera lens swung toward the sound… and a half-shifted Lykos chased a child into frame.

  The video paused, completely in focus. Then it shrank into the top right corner, and the news anchor—pale and shaky—began. However, the ringing in my ears covered all other sounds. My legs weakened, so I sat on the coffee table.

  Hypnos popped in, landing beside me. I hadn’t even notice him leave my shoulder. A Gate opened, and Rankar stepped through. His mouth moved, but the words sounded so distant—like he spoke a language I’d never encountered before. His head turned toward the TV screen, but he reacted differently.

  His hands gripped my shoulder. “Kinan.”

  I met his eyes, and he kissed my forehead.

  “There you are, soldier-girl. I have to prepare Asez Holding, but I need you to warn Mom. Hypnos and Thanatos will make sure all the siblings know, and they’ll be descending on the household if they aren’t already.”

  My head tilted so my lips could meet his. “I’ll go to the ranch. Be careful, Ran.”

  His arms wrapped around me. “Gate into our bedroom upstairs. Don’t do anything to give yourself away. People will be watching for anything unusual now.”

  I squeezed him tighter. “I’ll be careful too. I love you.”

  “I love you, eirlys. I’ll come to the ranch as soon as I can.”

  We both Gated out at the same time. However, I hit the ground running on the other side. Opening the bedroom door, I yelled Karyn’s name as I descended the stairs at breakneck speed.

  “Kinan?” she called back, stepping into the entryway from the back room.

  Irrationally relieved that she was safe, I hugged her tightly. She didn’t hesitate to return it. “Ryn, we need to turn on the news. And Rankar is sending everyone here. Do you have your phone on you in case someone calls? Mycal may try to reach you.”

  She gently covered my mouth with her hand, getting an instant result. I paused, waiting. “Deep breath. Slow down. You just shifted through at least five languages. Someone is coming with news?”

  Speaking slowly and deliberately in English, I tried again. “Paranormals have been outed. Turn on the news.”

  Her grip stayed on my arm as she led me to the living area where we’d spent many nights. Unlike our usual routine, she chose a national news channel instead of her journal. Again, the video played, though this one continued further into the murderer going after the child and included sound. Someone at the party carried a weapon and took a shot. The noise startled both the person recording and the Lykos, who fled.

  “Well…” she whispered. “I should call Mycal.”

  Within minutes, most of the Sirach clan gathered in the kitchen. Faela, an obviously pregnant Tiernia, Alika, and her boyfriend sat at the table. Xander, Kismet, and I leaned against walls and countertops. The phone in the middle of the table had Asher on speakerphone. Only Mycal, Tier, and Rankar were missing, but Hypnos perched on my shoulder, sometimes relaying information from either Rankar or Thanatos. A pot of coffee and a kettle of tea made the smell in the kitchen confusing. Luckily, the whiskey available to add helped a little.

  Kismet took point once everyone settled in. “Xander, Faela, I’ll reinforce the wards here and at your house. Asher and Li, I want you two to work out a rotation so that there’s always someone on guard here; Dad won’t be able to send extra security without rousing suspicion we don’t need. Kinan, we need to inventory the weapons cache. Nia and Lucienn, stay with Mom in case she needs extra sets of hands. Meet back in the kitchen in an hour.”

  I headed upstairs to Mycal’s office, familiar with the organization of the armory after months of helping keep everything well-oiled and smoothly operating. Grabbing the notepad, I began with the largest caliber. Listing each weapon in the category, I then documented how many rounds were stocked for them.

  The .38 and 9mm ammunition needed supplementing, I noted. The low gun-to-ammunition ratio in those categories concerned me. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt to invest in a few additional magazines for preloading purposes.

  A knock at the doorway caused me to clear the Glock from my shoulder holster as I turned toward the noise. Hypnos leapt into the air, startled by the sudden movement. Rankar looked back at me. He patiently let me process the adrenaline dump, only moving forward once I reclipped the safety strap.

  “How are you doing, eirlys?�
�� he asked, wrapping his arms around me. Warmth enveloped me. For a moment, I tucked myself under his chin until my frantic heartbeat slowed.

  “I didn’t feel you come through the wards,” I admitted.

  “Because I came by truck. I have been pretty obviously visible the last few hours at Asez Holding, so I didn’t want to risk Gating when a short drive would keep me below the radar.” His grip shifted, and his palm slid down my spine then back up to my neck. “Talk to me, soldier-girl.”

  The shaky exhale escaped before I could swallow it. “This is the worst way we could be exposed. The potential fallout terrifies me. But that is nothing compared to the anxiety eating at my insides every time I think about what could happen to you or your family.”

  His fingers massaged the base of my skull, gently dispersing the tension lingering there. “Nothing will happen to my family because of your presence. If you concentrate, you’ll feel the wards strengthening. Even your meticulous cataloguing, your attention to the task, adds power to them. Xander, Faela, and Kismet are literally layering them thicker and thicker. Mom’s walking behind them, braiding their protections into hers so that it’s impossible to pick out a single thread of weakness. We define ‘stronger together.’ You and me, you and me and my family.”

  I leaned back, looking into his eyes. “And we are both going to be extra careful.”

  He grinned. “Yes, we are.” Closing the distance between us, he placed a quick kiss on my lips. “I love you, Kinan.”

  “I love you too.”

  Triswon sank onto the bench across from me, not even glancing at the dessert sitting untouched by my plate. The bags under his eyes made him appear a decade older than usual, and his hair stood on end like he’d forgotten to brush it for a few days. I glanced at the ceiling then back at him.

  “How is she?” My words came out as a whisper. The pall over the tavern left the room in near silence as the diners ate. This had lasted since Eliecha locked herself in her workroom two days ago. For forty-eight hours, she had refused entry to her beloved husband and to me. However, as though her Gift were reversed, melancholy saturated the air.

  He grimaced at the table, not lifting his head. “She’s a strong woman, Snowflake. Her Gifts create a perfect storm of sight, emotion, and caring—and sometimes the hurricane hits her so furiously that she needs time to determine the proper precautions to maneuver through it.”

  I swallowed, never more relieved that the Goddess left me with a much shallower version of Prophecy. “Has this happened before?”

  His forehead rested against his hand, and his knuckles turned white as he squeezed. “1939. She locked herself in our bedroom at the Sithen. By the time I punched through her wards, her visions had become so intense I carried her to the healer as she seized nonstop in my arms. He drugged her in lieu of binding her Gifts, but she lived in a haze of Gift-suppressing and mind-altering drugs until 1945.”

  My stomach gurgled a warning, and I pushed the plate far away. “The World War.”

  He nodded. “My Elie, she couldn’t understand why the Tuatha de did nothing. So powerful, but in some ways as bad as the humans perpetrating the horrors. For six years, she did not know her own name nor mine. When she saw my face, she would smile so sweetly and hum. When I tried to wake her, the seizures began again. It was the worst time of my life, and I cannot relive it.”

  Already, the government spoke of opening internment camps like they used to imprison the Japanese. They claimed the sites were temporary, until they understood more about the creatures living among them. As Senator Michael Simmons, Mycal risked his life daily speaking out against such action. Twice, the Sirach ranch had been attacked by reactionary mobs who disapproved of the senator’s message of acceptance. Twice, the wards had alerted us to them before they crossed the fence line, allowing us to contact police in time to prevent any injuries.

  Determined, I gripped Triswon’s hands and pulled them down so he looked me in the eyes. “This time, we stand or fall together. Already, the Tuatha de Danaan in power take stances to try to protect other demon breeds who have nowhere to run. We aren’t retreating back to the Sithens and sanctuary… not without the rest.”

  Footsteps on the stairs caused us both to stand. Eliecha stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Her bloodshot eyes still leaked tears, and her face swelled to near unrecognizability from the effects of her grief. “Sarki Elayne Kinan,” she whispered, the words sounding damaged as they crawled past a throat raw from screaming. “You will stand firm until you break. Your broken shards kill your enemies but cut your allies. Flames destroy you, but fire mends you. Death protects you as it hunts you. You will lose everything you treasure to find that which exceeds value.”

  Sprinting to her side, I carefully touched my hand to hers. “Elie? Are you with us?”

  She blinked owlishly, her gaze touching on Triswon then me and back. “You both look terrible.”

  Triswon ducked down to wrap his arms around her waist, lifting her up in the air. Her dainty squeal relieved some of the tension in the room, though her prophecy popped around in the back of my mind… Not even touching the information Triswon had relayed.

  “My Elie, you look as beautiful as our wedding date! I’ve missed you terribly.”

  She patted his hair, trying to smooth the mess closer to his head. “I didn’t mean to worry you, love, but the information was too much to process without blocking out everything else. Now, I’ve Seen all the Goddess deems to show me, and I’ve studied the part we are to play.”

  Slowly, he lowered her until her feet touched the ground. She reached out and drew me into their hug. “Many battles stand before us before we march to war, but Snowflake speaks truth. We shall stand or fall together this time.”

  Tiptoeing, Eliecha kissed us both on the forehead. Unfortunately, no amount of concentration helped me decipher which of her words were prophetic metaphor and which were simply prophecy.

  Chapter 24

  The wards vibrated across my skin, and I sat bolt upright in the bed. Looking around, I oriented myself. Karyn and Mycal vacationed overseas. Rankar worked a double shift due to the heightened security at Asez Holding. Two internment camps had formally opened yesterday, and a family member of a guard had been snatched from her work. Asher and I played babysitter here at the Sirach ranch. With five failed attacks on the ranch stretching the protections to the limit, the family refused to take any chances.

  Inhaling slowly, I tried to calm my racing heart. However, the breath brought the faintest whiff of smoke. Hurriedly pulling on pants and my boots, I grabbed my shoulder holster but didn’t bother with the sword belt. Asher’s bedroom was on the opposite side of the house. Near the stairs, I yelled his name.

  “Be careful!” he shouted back, already awake. Likely, the wards had alerted him to the danger also. Thank the Goddess.

  Unlocking the front door, I threw it open and paused to assess the situation. Smoke rose from the main barn, but no flames were visible yet. Whoever or whatever caused the fire had not lingered to see the consequences. The horses in the barn already sounded the alarm.

  I jumped the gate before my mind told my legs to move. Eight horses from Asez, Pantheon, and the three ranch horses had greeted me this morning. Plus, Trouble and Cliff typically slept inside. What kind of asshole attacks innocent animals?

  The flames licked up the outside of the barn on the side opposite the house, I noticed as I approached the door. Once I opened the door and let oxygen inside, it would double. However, smoke inhalation would kill the horses and dogs long before the fire if I waited.

  A silent prayer to the Goddess and I opened the side door. Immediately, smoke rolled out. My lungs spasmed, and a voice reminded me that I didn’t need oxygen to live. Holding my breath, I stepped into building and stopped at the first stall. More than sight, memory of the barn’s layout and which stalls held horses helped me. The metal latch seared my palm even as my lungs burned for a deep breath, and I stripped off my shirt to slide the loc
k. A quick glance showed me a blanket hanging over an empty stall. Shoving it in the water bucket, I saturated it before throwing it over the gelding’s head.

  Grabbing his headstall, I urged him to the far end of the stable. His hesitation slowed us. Using my wrapped hand, I slid the bolt on the door and threw it open. Behind me, the fire celebrated the oxygen even as I inhaled deeply myself. “Trouble! Cliff! Come!” I yelled, running across the open ground to the corral. With a slap to his hindquarters, I pulled off the blanket and sent the gelding inside. I shut the corral and sprinted back, taking another breath before entering.

  The silhouette of Asher and two horses moving toward the open door behind me warned me to sidestep. The horse in the stall stretched his neck toward me in a familiar gesture. Pantheon! My hand touched his nose before rushing to open the stall. Unable to speak without inhaling, I held tight to his halter while opening the door of the stall two down. Surprisingly, he didn’t try to bully the ranch horse as I led the two into the night air. Asher passed me at a run, his face and shirt covered in soot.

  The five horses in the corral neighed to the seven still inside screaming in pain as cinders and fire burned their hides. Now, flames licked at the roof. The infusion of oxygen and the bales of hay and straw in the loft created an inferno. We were running out of time.

  Asher carried one of the Great Pyrenees and the other ran beside him as he headed outside. Another prayer to the Goddess for the wellbeing of the dogs as I tucked my head against the heat and entered again. In the distance, sirens blared as vehicles approached. Fire trucks, hopefully.

  This time, as I led two horses to the corral, Asher knelt on the ground beside Cliff performing CPR. The fire trucks had silenced the noise; however, the men rushed to hook up the hoses to the tanker. Another had an oxygen tank and dropped to his knees beside Asher.

  As I stepped inside, a panicked horse rushed past me, no one holding his harness. Hopefully, someone could grab him before he ran back inside to the once-comfortable stall. Unable to see beyond my hand, I counted the stalls by touch and moved around the opened, empty ones. This time, when I stepped out of the stable, I nearly collapsed as the desert, night air washed over my burning skin. One of the ranch hands took the two horses from my hands, leading them toward the corral. Turning, I mentally counted. Two more inside, and their screams as the cinders hit their hides raised the hairs on my arms.