Shadow and Ice (Gods of War)

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Shadow and Ice (Gods of War) Page 6

by Gena Showalter


  “Enough,” he snapped. “Be still.”

  And accept her fate like a good little victim? Never! “I’m just getting started.” She bucked, slamming the back of her head against his chin. Another elbow, then another, his breath gushing out.

  When he snaked an arm around her neck and squeezed, the hysteria and panic conquered more ground. She dug her nails in his forearm and clawed, but he merely squeezed harder, cutting off her airway.

  “Bastard,” she rasped. “Let...go...now!”

  “Are you ready to behave?”

  I’m ready to peel off your face!

  The tunnel began to quake, the cracks burrowing deeper, stretching farther. As the entire structure neared collapse, stars winked through her vision.

  “I mean it. Calm down, female,” Knox said.

  Must escape. Fight...harder!

  “I can’t get unstuck,” Nola cried.

  He moved his grip to Vale’s waist, allowing her to breathe. Sucking in a mouthful of air, she faced him. It was too dark to make out his features, or the position of his body, but she did her best to ram her fist into his goodie bags. Success!

  He grunted, then snarled. She braced for retaliation, even as she attempted to ram his goodie bags again. But...

  He never struck back, only blocked the second blow before hurling himself against her. The abrupt motion pushed her into Nola, and their group of three began sliding once again.

  “What’s happening?” Her sister’s petrified voice ricocheted through the tunnel.

  “You will not harm the females,” another male snarled.

  Vale tasted the citrusy tang of orange. Zion. He’d made a hasty introduction during the battle royal. He was as tall and muscled as Knox, with dark hair, black eyes, pale skin that appeared to have actual jewels embedded in select places, and a pair of spiked metal gloves. He too exuded untold savagery and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of carnality. More than once, he’d used his body to protect both Vale and Nola, taking blows meant for them.

  What if he had saved them in the cave just so he could hurt them later?

  Better question: How were these once-frozen guys alive?

  Knox and Zion threatened each other. She knew they threatened each other in a foreign language. The menace and aggression they were throwing off gave them away.

  As the two wrestled, she wiggled free of Knox’s hold. Never had freedom been so sweet. Up ahead, she caught sight of a glimmering green light. The exit neared. Relieved, she leaned into Nola to increase their speed, and put more distance between her and the brutes.

  When they spilled out of the tunnel, Vale landed on top of her sister with a thud. Nola had grabbed the backpack filled with blankets and medicine, and it cushioned the blow somewhat.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she said when the girl hissed in pain. No time to waste. Grabbing Nola by the coat, Vale rolled her out of the way just as Knox and Zion exited with even less grace than she had displayed.

  As quickly as possible, she took stock. Night had arrived, northern lights streaking the sky with brilliant bursts of emerald and amethyst. So vivid. So cold! She lumbered to her feet, the whole world shaking, cracks spreading across the cavern walls.

  Zion crouched, then slammed a gloved fist into the ground. More shaking. Massive crevices branched from the spot he’d punched.

  Vale watched, horrified, as Knox fell through the widest opening, disappearing from view. Only, he must have grabbed hold of a groove on the way down because he swung his body up, up, legs first. And there must have been blades hidden in the toe of his boots; with a swipe of his leg, he disemboweled Zion.

  She gasped, nearly vomited.

  Little whimpers rose from Nola. “We have to stop them. They’re going to kill each other.”

  “If we stick around, they’re going to kill us. Come on!” Heart banging against her ribs, Vale jerked her sister upright and claimed the backpack.

  As she ran, arms pumping, feet surely winged, northern lights highlighted a smooth path, but icy wind burned her eyes. Frick! She’d left her goggles behind. And her scarf. Nola was missing a glove.

  At this rate, subzero temperatures would kill them before the men had a chance. Men who were...what? Ancient barbarians? How long had they been frozen? Why had they been frozen?

  Had she and Nola somehow unleashed a horde of evil?

  And how were the warriors frozen in the first place, without suffering any permanent damage?

  Don’t look back. The perfect slogan for today’s adventures.

  Vale swallowed a maniacal laugh. A business slogan, here and now? Well, why not? The habit had developed in college, when a professor had walked into the room and said, “Have a new motto or slogan ready to go each morning. Sell me on the reason you deserve an A, or fail the entire course.” In times of stress, she reverted to her old ways.

  Possible slogan for Knox: Him fatale.

  Or maybe: Ready to lay, eager to slay.

  “Don’t understand...what’s happening,” Nola said between huffing breaths.

  “Hide first, answers second,” Vale replied. “Tell me you’re feeling okay.”

  “Hurting, tired, cold. Heartbeat...warped.”

  Fury crackled, an undeniable fire in her veins, and yet it failed to heat her up. Or her sister, apparently. Nola’s teeth chattered, and she shivered so violently she nearly tripped.

  A hard weight suddenly collided with Vale, two intractable bands wrapping around her waist. With a gasp, she careened forward, losing her grip on Nola. Warm breath on her nape, a face-plant imminent. At the last second, her captor switched their positions, absorbing the bulk of impact himself.

  He grunted, imbuing her mouth with the taste of honeyed whiskey. Knox!

  Despite his actions, impact jarred her, air exploding from her burning lungs, bones almost shattering. Her brain rattled against her skull and opened a floodgate, allowing dizziness to rush in.

  She groaned as Knox hauled her up, tossed her over his shoulder and took off in a mad sprint.

  Those intractable arms held her in a vise-grip, squeezing tight enough to bruise. “Let me go!” Where was Nola? “You have to let me go.”

  “Vale!” her sister shouted. Then, at a lower volume, she cried, “Wh-what are you d-doing? S-stop, please.”

  “Be quiet, girl. You’ll give our position away.” Zion’s voice boomed through the mountains—giving their position away.

  He had Nola. Must have recovered from his disembowelment, then.

  Desperate times, desperate measures. Vale kicked and squirmed with no regard for her own well-being, and finally managed to throw herself from Knox’s shoulder. After everything she’d already endured, landing hurt. Landing hurt bad. Ignoring the avalanche of pain, she crawled to her feet and darted in the opposite direction.

  When she spotted Nola trapped within Zion’s arms as he raced away, she quickened her pace to give chase.

  “Stop! Please! You don’t understand. She’s sick. She needs her medicine.”

  A few years ago, when Nola’s fibromyalgia had flared, she’d become too weak to crawl out of bed. Her doctor prescribed opioid pain pills. Those little white pills had been a blessing and a curse, offering her a somewhat normal life while also making her dependent on each new dose. She could go twelve hours before withdrawal symptoms started. Profuse sweating. Full body aches. Thunderous heartbeat. And they only worsened, until she prayed for death. Vale couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her go through that kind of agony.

  “Come get Knox,” she shouted at Zion. “I’ll help you kill him, if that’s what you want, honest.”

  The guy never even slowed. Argh! Why abscond with Nola at all? Unless he wanted a woman for a very specific reason...?

  “No!” The ice invaded Vale’s soul. “Please, take me instead.”

  Nola flailed, tears freezing and
glistening on her cheeks. Though she reached over his shoulder, desperate to make contact with Vale, the merciless Zion continued on.

  “I’m coming...for you.” Running, running. Every breath a painful chore, the frigid air stinging her nostrils and chilling her lungs. “Right behind...won’t let him—umph!”

  A hard weight slammed into her, throwing her down. Not again! Knox rotated faster, cursing her when they landed.

  He flipped her over, restrained her with his muscled strength, and scowled at her with the kind of malevolence that would send an entire army fleeing.

  “Enough, female.”

  Their gazes met, something hot and electric arching between them. She went still. He went still. For a moment, the clock seemed to stop, the rest of the world fading from her awareness. All she saw? His eyes. They weren’t just bluer than any ocean, they were deeper, too. A woman could cannonball into those babies and drown—with a smile.

  Knox’s warmth enveloped her, until she was shockingly close to overheating. Beads of sweat even popped up on her brow.

  “Let. Me. Go,” she repeated, the breathlessness of her tone embarrassing her.

  He shifted, every point of contact coming alive, rousing the most delicious prickles. Her breasts ached, and the apex of her thighs began to throb.

  Her mind didn’t like the man, but her body loved him. Her body needed him. No, no. Ridiculous! Her wrongly wired senses had confused dismay with desire, that was all.

  His scowl grew darker. “Stop running from me. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

  “Wrong. You’re making things worse for me.” She tried to ignore the fresh infusion of honeyed whiskey in her mouth...and failed. Mmm. So good.

  Would he taste just as good? Or better?

  Whoa. Wake-up call! She wanted to kiss a murderer? No!

  The world-fade reversed, everything coming back into focus. Darkness, light. Chaos. The heat evaporated, making her feel battered by frigid wind. Her mind replayed the brawl, the plethora of severed body parts. The chase. Her sister—Vale sucked in a breath.

  Save Nola, whatever the cost.

  Without cataloging her intent, she punched Knox once, twice. Dang it. He had a face like concrete, and her knuckles quickly cracked and swelled. But he leaned back, out of striking distance, allowing her to wiggle free, like before.

  She popped to her feet and glared at him. “I’m going after my sister. Help me or get out of the way.”

  “Going to try to trade my life for hers again?”

  “If that’s what it takes, yes. I love her. I don’t even like you.” Go!

  One step around him, that was as far as she got. From his position on the ground, he was able to grab her ankle and sweep her off her feet. Literally! And, because he didn’t absorb the worst of the impact, she cut her tongue on her teeth. A copper tang eclipsed the honeyed whiskey.

  As fast as lightning, he loomed over her. Black lines branched from his eyelids, quickly shadowing both of his sockets. The transformation like something out of a horror movie.

  “Zion will protect her,” he said. “Probably.”

  Probably? Not good enough. “He’s a killer, just like you.” The second Vale’s head stopped spinning, she tried to knee Knox’s testicles into his throat.

  He caught her ankle and held on tight, a dark god lovingly stroked by the glow of the northern lights. “Attack my manhood a third time, female, and I’ll assume you work with vikings.” His timbre smoldered with barely suppressed rage, and yet, it was also as cold and hard as steel. “I yearn to torture vikings.”

  He couldn’t mean the ancient warriors...could he? No, of course not. Judging by his odd accent, English wasn’t his first language. He’d meant something else, surely.

  Even still, tendrils of fear slipped down her spine. “Stop calling me female.” She wrenched free and vaulted up. “And stop stopping me! My sister needs her medicine, okay, which means I need to rescue her.”

  “I was able to observe Zion for five months as we fought in this All War. She’ll be safe with him.”

  All War?

  “I’ve never seen him harm a female,” Knox continued. “Even an other-realm assassin with every intention of killing him.”

  Other-realm? “How can I get this through your thick skull? Nola. Needs. Her. Medicine.” Unwilling to wait for his response, she faked left, darted right.

  Knox caught her; of course he caught her. In a blink, he had her draped over his shoulder, clearly his favorite position, and carted her off.

  She fought him until the cold turned her blood to sludge and sapped her strength. Soon, she couldn’t move, could only shiver.

  “So cold...” Too cold. “Please...follow...Zion.”

  “I’m taking you to safety. Female. You’re welcome.”

  She gnashed her teeth. Pretend to be reasonable. “Win my sister...from Zion...safety...wealthy family pay...millions.” Translation: Vale would write him a hot check. “Will do anything...you want.”

  “You’ll do anything I want, anyway.”

  Okay, she clearly wasn’t getting anywhere with him. She needed to think this through. If Zion truly was a good guy and wouldn’t hurt a woman—a sentiment Knox didn’t share, obviously—Nola was better off with him. Could Vale trust Knox’s gold stamp of approval, though? He was a murderer, so lying wasn’t too far outside his wheelhouse.

  “Don’t care about...your realms or All War,” she finally said. “Only care about...sister.”

  Knox thought for a moment, then nodded as if he’d just made a monumental decision. “I have questions about Terra, you have answers. Give me the information I seek. In exchange, I’ll let you go—maybe—and you can hunt for your sister on your own.”

  Maybe? Maybe wasn’t good enough. Until she ditched him, though, she had to play along, and buy herself a little time. T-minus eleven hours before Nola became desperate for another dose of her pills. In the meantime...

  Be the coffee bean. Change the water.

  “All right. Yes,” she said. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know about, um, Terra. Yep. Good ole Terra.” It was the Latin word for “earth,” but might—probably—mean something else to him. “My favorite...” Person? Place? Thing?

  “Realm,” he offered with a frown.

  “Yep. Realm. Of course.” Her next full-body shiver nearly knocked Knox off his feet. “Too cold to think.”

  “Be careful, female.” His deep baritone held a low, seductive growl of menace that was more potent than—

  Whoa! Seductive menace? Who am I? Menace was never sexy.

  “If you lie to me,” he said, “or betray me in any way, you will become my enemy. My enemies die painfully—and always.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AS KNOX SPRINTED across the frozen tundra, he summoned a thick cover of shadows. In seconds, total blackness shrouded him, hiding him—and Vale—from the view of others.

  “Can’t see,” she said, her teeth chattering. “So dark.”

  “You don’t need to see.” The urge to return to the prison and pick off survivors besieged him, but somehow his desire to save the little Terran proved stronger.

  One second ticked into a minute, more and more of her strength draining, until she stopped fighting entirely. She even lost her grip on her bag.

  Earlier she’d mentioned medicine contained inside it. He doubled back, grabbed the pack and hefted a strap over his shoulder. She offered him no thanks. The feisty mortal had grown quiet. Too quiet. At this rate, she would freeze to death before he got her to safety.

  Rifters at the ready? He glanced at his right hand. Three rings made of a crystal-metal hybrid adorned his first, second and third fingers, stretching from nail bed to middle knuckle.

  A single clink caused the Rifters to vibrate. Then, when you waved them through the air, they mystically
cut a doorway to somewhere else on Terra. You had to imagine where you wanted to go, so you could only visit places you’d been before, or seen in pictures.

  On his left hand he wore a bejeweled ring that acted as a type of projector for the rice-sized device injected in his knuckle—the key to communicating with Ansel.

  Every combatant owned a transmitter and a set of Rifters just like his.

  Though Knox was too close to the combat zone for comfort, he pictured the bunker, his safe house. Then he picked a spot with his gaze about a hundred yards ahead, clinked the Rifters together, and waved the vibrating pieces through the air. In the spot he’d selected, two layers of air peeled away from each other, as if they’d ruptured, and an entrance to the underground paradise appeared.

  The rift would remain open for sixty seconds. No more, no less. To prevent others from seeing inside the home—and rifting inside later—he summoned shadows, the darkness rising to shield the doorway.

  The bunker was a masterpiece of technology earned from one of his previous All War victories, able to update automatically, self-clean, self-sustain and produce what he needed, when he needed it. The very reason he’d chosen the bunker as his weapon for this war. He’d known he could steal swords, daggers and guns from other warriors. Could—and had.

  Minutes after arriving on Terra, he’d beheaded Legend of Honoria and claimed possession of his brass knuckle daggers. Mere minutes after that, he’d removed Jagger of Leiddiad’s heart and won a revolver. Holster the gun, and it would mystically reload. An alcove and closet were filled with other weapons he’d taken from vikings and villagers. Shadows kept everything hidden and safe.

  Vale groaned, and he quickened his stride. Almost there...

  Knox entered the bunker, pleased to find everything intact, as expected. To the right, a small table with different maps, just as he’d left it. To the left, a waterfall cascaded into a large, stone-rimmed tub that resembled a natural cenote. Just ahead, a soft bed positioned underneath a canopy of fruit trees.

  If the other warriors ever discovered the riches here, he would become even more of a target.

 

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