Shadow and Ice (Gods of War)

by Gena Showalter

  Just then, he felt as if lava already charred his veins.

  Weeks before the fifth month check-in, Knox had trailed Zion to an island filled with golden temples and statues, where they’d fought so fiercely they’d triggered an event that had sunk most of the land underwater. Zion wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t return...or he was a fool if he didn’t return. What better safe house than the one other combatants believed you would avoid?

  Knox untangled from Vale, stood and tucked the covers over her. Releasing a soft sigh, she buried her face in the pillow he now envied.

  How badly the woman had scrambled his brain.

  With a curse, he forced himself to weapon-up. He cast a final, lingering glance at the bed...

  Want to return.

  {Remove Zion from the war. He grows in power.}

  Yes. Remove. Shadows acted as a shield, rising as Knox opened a rift to the other male’s hideaway. Warm air fragranced with coconut and wildflowers drifted into the bunker, resplendent but in no way comparable to Vale’s scent. Nothing compared.

  Body hidden within the gloom, Knox stepped through the rift. Sunshine caressed a white sand beach. Waves lapped and birds called, all at peace.

  Once the rift had closed, he trekked across the island. The only sign of human life? The footsteps he left behind.

  The longer he was away, the more he missed Vale, until it wrecked his concentration. He imagined her in bed, warm and soft as she welcomed him back, her nipples like little pearls, her legs spread in invitation, her core wet and glistening for him and him alone.

  {Concentrate!}

  Teeth grinding, he left the beach to hike into the jungle, careful to avoid any traps that might be hidden in the dense, dewy ground cover or trees. Insects buzzed, snakes slithered and monkeys swung on vines. He found no evidence of shelters or traps, but kept his revolver aimed.

  {Someone nears. Prepare.}

  Knox paused. There was a sudden swish of branches. Zion jumped from a tree, landing directly in front of him.

  Boom, boom, boom. He hammered at the gun’s trigger.

  Between each gunshot, he heard a ping of metal against metal as Zion deflected the bullets with his gloves. Birds squawked and flew away.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Knox.” The warrior held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of innocence. “I don’t want to fight you. I’m here to bargain.”

  Knox reloaded. “Funny. I have a bargain for you. Give me the girl, and I’ll let you live...today. Don’t, and your life ends in minutes.”

  “Forget the girl. She’s of no concern to you. I know your Vale has joined our war, and there are two representatives for this realm. The same thing happened during my first All War.”

  It was a well-kept secret, then. Or a lie. “Save your stories for someone else.” Cannot rely on another combatant’s word. No matter how badly he craved the information.

  Zion continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The High Council decided neither addition would be disqualified, that they would fight to the death just like the rest of us, since the prize—the right to rule the realm—was the same for everyone.”

  Made sense. A weight lifted from his shoulders, one he hadn’t known he’d carried. Vale would not be eliminated for being the second Terran to join the war.

  “If we hope to beat Erik,” Zion said, “we must work together. His net is wide, his reach long.”

  “I will never work with another combatant.” Vale was the sole exception, but even their alliance wouldn’t last long.

  “I had a similar reaction when Nola suggested it to me. Then I used my brain. You need someone to watch your back, and I need someone to watch mine. Think about it. My offer will expire when the next check-in ends.” With an amused smile, Zion punched a tree, pulverizing the bark, sending the upper half crashing toward Knox.

  Thorns snagged him, cutting, as he vaulted to freedom. By then, it was too late. The warrior had already rifted off the island.

  Knox could have given chase and tracked the essence of shadows, but he’d been parted from Vale long enough.

  A quick search ensured he was truly alone. He opened a rift, entered his home and waited. As soon as the doorway closed, he whirled around, frowned. The bunker had been decorated with colorful paper ribbons, a Congratulations banner hanging over the bed.

  “What is this?” he demanded.

  “Surprise!” Vale stepped toward him, grinned and spread her arms. “Welcome to our alliance celebration party.”

  A party. For him. That was a first. “Why would you do this?”

  “Because foxy Knoxie deserves a party with his doxy. Translation—sometimes a boy’s just gotta have fun.”

  “I...thank you.” Rubbing his aching chest, he raked his gaze over her. She’d changed into the clothes she’d picked up after escaping authorities. A black shirt with a deep V neck and a pair of camo pants.

  “You like what you see?” Her gaze roved over him, her lids growing heavy. “So do I. So where’d you go?” she asked.

  “Hunting Zion.” To tell her the rest or not?

  Tell, he decided. There was no reason to keep it from her.

  “I was going to bring back Nola, but I failed.” The last word was snarled. Failure was unacceptable, always.

  “Thank you for trying.” Eyes wide, hand flattened over her heart, she whispered, “That means more than I can articulate.”

  “I will get her back for you.”

  His ferocity must have appealed to her. She shivered, awareness sizzling in her gaze. “Dude. I think we just discovered the secret to my seduction. Do. Something. Nice.”

  She stepped into him. He stepped into her. Then she leaped into his arms, coiling her arms and legs around him, and he held on tight to his prize.

  Their lips and tongues collided, and a loud thud registered. The revolver. He realized he’d dropped it, and tensed.

  Vale had hoped to distract and disarm him? Perhaps. And he wanted to care, he did, but she tasted too good, and he relaxed into her, kissing her back, his rock-hard shaft like a heat-seeking missile, finding the cradle between her legs. He’d craved this every second of his absence—had craved her. Now, he was swept up in a wave of blistering arousal, all sense eradicated.

  They strained together, her nails cutting into his shoulders. The pheromone...

  He jerked up his head, severing the kiss. “Why don’t I scent the pheromone?”

  “I’m controlling it...barely. Now kiss me. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

  His desire was kindling, and hers was the match. Burning up, inside and out, he obeyed, kissing her harder, faster. His most primal instincts insisted he push her past the edge of control and drag the pheromone from her. Keep it from him? No! One way or another, she could cede every fiber of her being to him. He would own her...as she owned him.

  He waited for panic to cool his ardor. No way would he ever willingly submit to a woman’s claim. One second, two. Nothing. Still waiting... Not even a blip. The fire raged on, undisturbed.

  “More,” he snarled.

  “Please!”

  Vale nipped and bit his lower lip as he stalked forward, fell onto the bed and pinned her beneath him. Animal sounds rumbled in his chest when he tunneled his hands underneath her shirt to knead and tease her breasts, and madden them both.

  “Let me see these beauties,” he said, and tore off her shirt and bra. “So pink and pretty.”

  She arched her back, offering her body in supplication, and no competitor’s surrender had ever been so sweet. But she wasn’t a competitor to him right now. She was a woman, he was a man. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Frenzied, he yanked his shirt overhead and tossed the material aside. Skin met skin, and he drew in a reverent breath. Sublime.

  He sucked one of her nipples and pinched the other, until both were pleasure-sw
ollen. The uninhibited and fervent way she responded to him would be forever etched in his mind, the mental file titled Best Moments of My Life.

  Sliding her hands down his sides, she said, “Let’s make us both a little more comfortable.”

  She clasped the hilt of a dagger and again, he was too aroused to care. If she wanted to stab him, he’d let her, as long as she continued kissing and touching him. But she simply dragged the blade from the sheath at his waist and tossed it to the floor.

  Soon she’d disarmed him and as a reward for his cooperation, she opened the fly of his pants and wrapped her fingers around his aching shaft.

  A strangled sound left him. If this kept up, he would blow. He needed to slow things down, to savor. Then she squeezed, wrenching another strangled sound from him, and all thoughts of slowing down vanished.

  “I want this,” she said, her tone beseeching.

  “And I want to give it to you.” There was a reason he’d decided to wait to penetrate her, he had only to remember it. Think, think.

  He recalled the pheromone...a desire for control...

  Control was overrated.

  She released his length—No!—and pushed him to his back. Though he’d never allowed a woman to top him, suspecting the position would leave him vulnerable, he was mesmerized by Vale’s innate sexuality, and offered no protest. She rose over him and straddled his hips, her breasts bouncing, locks of her hair playing peekaboo with those pretty pink nipples.

  “I hated waking up without you,” she admitted. As he watched, enraptured, she traced her little tongue over her palm and each finger. “I was shocked by how much I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” He’d never slept beside a woman, had never wanted to. Until Vale. She stirred all the wrong desires in him—or finally all the right ones. “Couldn’t return to you fast enough.”

  Relish sparkled in her eyes and a salacious smile tilted one corner of her mouth. She wrapped that damp hand around his shaft a second time and squeezed harder.

  The rest of his thoughts fled, his mind a blank slate. With a bestial roar, he tore open the waist of her pants, shoved his hand under her panties and thrust two fingers deep inside her—groaned. She was hotter than flame, tighter than a fist and so perfectly wet.

  Crying out, she arched her hips, sending his fingers deeper; her inner walls clenched to hold him inside. Then. That moment. Her lush, erotic scent filled his nose and lungs and fogged his head.

  “Sex?” she beseeched, riding his fingers, moving faster and faster, while pumping his erection up and down.

  Pressure built in his body. Pleasure seared him. So close to the edge. How much better would it be with his shaft buried in her heat?

  Too intense to survive, surely. Must finish in her hand. He shouldn’t null and void such a monumental decision while lost in the throes.

  “Your climax,” he said. “I want it. Give it to me.”

  The second he circled his thumb around her clitoris and pressed down, she erupted, screaming his name, her inner walls constricting.

  Though her body went lax, she tightened her grip on him. Between panting breaths, she said, “Now give me yours.”

  There was no denying her. He erupted, his testicles drawing up, his next roar one of pure, undiluted satisfaction.

  When he’d emptied himself, his valina collapsed on top of him, not seeming to care about the mess they’d made. Their hearts raced in unison, a long while passing before either of them calmed.

  She nuzzled the hollow of his neck. “Next time you go hunting for Z, I’d love to go with you.”

  “I’ll take you. If you’re ready.” Or not. Parting with her, even for a moment, held no appeal.

  She didn’t miss a beat. “Then let’s get me ready.”

  “Yes. Let’s.” His gaze slid over her, primitive male possessiveness overtaking him once again. “But first, we bathe.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  FRESH AND CLEAN, newly satisfied and clothed in workout wear, Vale stretched in preparation of the upcoming combat lesson. Now that her sexual hunger had abated, her mind was able to motivate elsewhere, and replayed the dream she’d had while Knox pursued Nola.

  In it, Celeste had sat before a crackling firepit, a shirtless Gunnar beside her, his chest littered with angry gashes, souvenirs from a battle with Ronan and Petra.

  “Watch me,” Gunnar had said, and held the sword hilt against his forehead, the metal extending over his torso.

  Celeste had said, “Perhaps you shouldn’t do this. The repercussions...”

  “I’ve already paid the price,” he’d replied. “Now I will reap the reward.” The sword had begun to liquefy, silver droplets adhering to his skin.

  He’d screamed in pain, and Vale had lurched upright, quaking, reaching for Knox—only to find the bed empty, the sheets cold. Her mind had become a hamster wheel, spinning, spinning. What had pained Gunnar so horribly? What kind of reward was that? What were the repercussions Celeste had mentioned?

  Eventually, worry for Knox’s safety had driven Vale out of bed. She’d decided to use the supplies she’d purchased at the party store to decorate the bunker for a surprise party. And thank goodness she had! For the rest of her life, she would remember the look he’d given her. One of shock and awe, soul-deep gratitude and agonized hope. A look she’d seen in her own reflection the first time Carrie had given her a hug.

  “You ready?” Knox asked.

  “Here’s hoping.” She shook the dream out of her head and faced off with him in the center of the bunker.

  He held out Celeste’s sword.

  Vale’s cheeks flushed with surprised pleasure. Humbled, she accepted the offering. The hilt fit her grip, as if made for her alone.

  “Thank you, Knox.” She angled her wrist and twirled the blade, entranced as the silver glinted. But the more she twirled, the more the sword’s weight screwed with her balance and reflexes, until she nearly gutted her tutor. Oops. “Sorry, sorry.”

  His expression had blanked. “Do you have memories of Celeste’s training?” His tone had changed, too, sharpening.

  What the heck? “Some, but I’m not sure those lessons will translate to practical application.”

  “We’ll find out.”

  He was going to make her sweat bullets, wasn’t he?

  They worked with the weapon, and though she tried, tried and tried again, she flunked poison activation.

  “Dang it!” she said, and stomped her foot. “What am I doing wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Activation is supposed to be automatic. Your touch should be all that’s needed.”

  Frick! “I get it. Other combatants absorb the power to activate their victim’s weapon, not memories or innate abilities. I absorb memories and innate abilities, but not the power to activate my victim’s weapons. I should have guessed. With synesthesia, there’s always a catch.”

  He thought for a moment, nodded. “You might not be able to poison your opponents, but you can still remove their limbs. Let’s continue your training.”

  For the next eternity, he pushed her harder than she’d ever been pushed. She’d expected hands-on training from a guy like him, but oh, wow, he had no mercy. Sweat bullets? How about grenades?

  Somewhere between trying not to die from overexertion and wanting to die, she realized a disturbing truth. This was the way Knox had trained as a child, the poor darling.

  Next he worked with her on hand-to-hand combat. How to make a proper fist. When to swing, when to block and when to dodge. How to use her lighter weight and smaller frame to her advantage, and what to do if someone grabbed her from behind or pinned her to a bed.

  He was all business, never once making a pass at her. “You’re weak,” he said, taking her to the floor—again. His expression said I’m disappointed in you.

  She thought she mi
ght prefer a dagger through the heart. “I don’t require a reminder. What I need is a time-out,” she said. Muscles she hadn’t known she had ached.

  “In battle, there are no time-outs.”

  “Too bad. If I don’t get one, I won’t be able to walk for a month.” Or ever.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. “Look past your exhaustion.”

  Argh! “Give me a break, or I’m never making out with you again.” A baseless threat. Probably.

  “Attempting to control me with sex?”

  “Yes!”

  He blinked with a little amusement and a lot of amazement. “You may rest for one hour, but you’ll spend every minute crafting our plan of action, as promised.”

  Our, he’d said. Not my. “Agreed.”

  She lumbered to the table and plopped onto a chair, her limbs trembling with relief. She keyed up the laptop and, curious, did a news search on Colorado. The first article she read left her stomach churning.

  “A car crashed into the coffee shop we visited,” she said.

  “And?”

  “And witnesses say the truck came out of nowhere.”

  “Ah. A combatant opened a rift with the intention of injuring Ronan and Petra. More and more such incidents will occur in the coming months.” He sat beside her and pressed his thigh against hers, as if he couldn’t bear a lack of contact.

  She understood. He was quickly becoming her favorite addiction.

  Gotta do a better job of guarding against his allure, dummy! Their relationship wasn’t a happily-ever-after in the making, and she had best remember that.

  “I’d bet my savings Erik is responsible. He knows the world better than anyone else.” The second article she teed up mentioned the dead bodies found in the Rockies, and how authorities were on the lookout for Valerina London, a person of interest. Stomach cramp. They’d included her picture.

  She was officially a wanted woman. And not the way she’d always hoped.

  “What’s wrong?” He nudged her shoulder and almost...smiled? “Besides your lack of stamina, I mean.”