by Lena North
Table of Contents
Copyright
My thanks
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Epilogue
Continue reading – Reaper
Continue reading - Seaborn
Black Snow
Lena North
Copyright © 2017 by Lena North
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Cover design: Copyright © 2017 by FAB Publishing.
Illustrations on cover: Copyright © 2017 by Lena North
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Discover other titles by Lena North:
Birds of a Feather series:
Wilder
Sweet Water
Picture This
The Dreughan series:
Courage
Reason
Joy
47 Sweet Street
Sissa Raudulfsdatter:
Runes of Fate
My thanks
As always, to my family.
Prologue
I stood on the edge of the bluff, watching the endless ocean stretch out in front of me. The color of the sky deepened at the horizon, merging with the sea and making the world around me a bubble of soft blue light. The air that just seconds ago had burned like acid with my every breath suddenly seemed lighter, and knowing what was in front of me soothed my soul.
I’d found the secluded spot by chance, and when I saw how the smooth cliff stretched straight down from the top to the waves crashing into the mountainside far below, I’d known what I would do. What I would have to do.
My name is Snow. My father gave me that name out of endless love, for me and for the mountains surrounding the village where I was born. He gave me my last name too.
Black.
Sometimes I wonder if that is the color of my soul.
Everyone knows that my parents are dead. My father died in his beloved mountains because of me. He said that it wasn’t my fault, but I know. My mother died by the waters, and the hand that opened the small plastic bottle and emptied its contents might have been hers, but the reason she did it was me. I know this too because she said so, many times. I found her, just before she passed away, and she told me again.
“We’d still be happy if it weren't for you,” she slurred.
Then her eyes glazed over as if they were suddenly covered by a thin layer of milk, and she was gone.
Without Dante, I wouldn’t have made it. I knew how hard it was for him, and felt his pain burn through my bones, but I was just a devastated child, so I let my cousin hold me together until I found a way to exist without shattering into a million pieces of anguish. When the first wave of grief had passed, I carefully selected the parts of me needing him the most and buried the rest deep. He thought he could read my mind like he read everyone else’s, and I had always been good at letting him think so. The truth was and still is that I only allow him access to what I’m willing to share. I let him see the parts of me that are happy, and hide the black snake of anger and grief that sleeps coiled up in my belly. He knows nothing about the things I do when the world around me turns dark, and that snake raises its ugly head to make my insides churn and roil.
I mostly find relief in the water, and they think I’m sailing in my small dinghy, but I free dive until my lungs burn and my vision blurs, swim in the river where the current threatens to drag me down or climb the mountainsides on the shores south of Prosper. When I can’t be by the water, I sky dive or base jump from the skyscrapers in the city.
The closer I get to the razor-sharp edge between success and disaster, the more I know I’m alive, and I have no desire to live, but I won’t end it. Not now and not ever. Suicide is nothing but a selfish form of escape, and I’ve promised myself that no matter how dark my world turns, I’ll never do to others what my mother has done to me.
An accident, though… It would be unfortunate, but bearable for the ones around me.
I smiled as I turned around to look at the narrow path that I’d followed up to the bluff, and the fence with the sign announcing that it was private property and access was prohibited, scanning the area for signs of people. Good, I thought. No one was around to stop me.
“Bird?” I asked.
“Snow,” my friend answered immediately.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Let’s fly together,” the bird murmured.
I walked a few steps away from the edge and turned, took a deep breath and then another.
Then I ran.
As I jumped off the cliff, I stretched my arms out, and for a second it felt like I was floating in the air. Everything was empty, but I felt whole. For that fleeting moment, I felt complete. Then the bird shrieked, and I twisted my body around, diving straight into the cold water with adrenaline rushing through my veins. My osprey laughed, high-pitched and gleefully, as she dove next to me. When we slowed down, I turned my head and looked through the water at her. My face split up in a wild grin when our eyes met, and we shared a moment of pure, undiluted joy. If I could have laughed out loud, I would have.
Suddenly another, deeper sound rumbled through the water. I twisted around to see where it came from, worrying that it might be the undercurrents moving a rock or debris around, at the same time thinking that it sounded a little like laughter, but the only thing I could see was a few small fishes scurrying away.
“Come,” my bird cajoled. “Need air. Come.”
“Okay,” I replied, and we surfaced.
I was wringing the water out of my long, black ponytail when a soft sound of an overturned stone rattled behind me and I turned.
“Dante?” I whispered although I knew immediately that it wasn’t him.
The man walked toward me with the bright afternoon sun at his back, and he had the same build as my tall, muscular cousin. All resemblance ended there, though. This man was closer to my age and had a mess of long dreadlocks tied back at the nape of his neck. His eyes were a clear, pale blue, and his skin a darker bronze than any tan Dante got in the summer. The grin he fired off at me was nothing like Dante’s polished smile.
“You can call me that if you want to,” he said lazily.
“Sorry, my mistake,” I said quickly, squirming a little because the way he looked at me made me uneasy.
I had a pair of short tights and an equally tight, black tank top but I might just as well have worn nothing at all. His eyes were intense, piercing as if he registered every strand of hair and even the tiniest birthmarks on my body. When his gaze finally locked with mine, it felt as if he saw straight into my brain. As if he could read my mind.
“That wa
s some dive you did,” he murmured.
I was about to protest and tell him that I hadn’t done anything when he turned away to look up toward the bluff.
“Want to do it again?” he asked.
I felt a smile curve my lips and answered without thinking.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Nick. Come on,” he said.
We made a few jumps and then we sat down to talk long into the evening.
That’s how it started.
“Snow, let’s go,” I heard someone say, and I jumped.
I’d been so lost in my memories that I’d forgotten that I wasn’t alone on the bluff. As I turned, I felt my mouth curve in a soft smile.
“Be careful,” Jamie said and stretched a hand out toward me. “You could fall over the edge, and I’d be far up shitola-creek with Jinx then.”
I smiled into his kind, gentle eyes, and followed him down the path, casting only a swift glance over my shoulder.
Then I sighed silently. I’d be back another day.
Chapter One
Blackmail
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I muttered as I took a step back and let the tall, imposing man into the small condo I sublet from Jiminella ‘Jinx’ Sweetwater, my cousin Dante’s fiancée. “It’s months until another attempt to convince me to work with you is due.”
“Well, hello to you too, honey,” Hawker Johns said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
“What do you want?” I asked, knowing that the man wouldn’t try to be on his best behavior unless he wanted me to do something.
“Hey there,” Miller interrupted sweetly and pushed past me to follow the leader of their covert group of vigilantes into my home.
“Et tu, Miller,” I murmured.
“Good to see you, Snow,” Mill grinned.
“Whatever,” I muttered and closed the door.
My bird had warned me that they were coming, so the climbing gear I’d been in the process of checking was stowed away. I wanted to get back to it, though, so I hoped I could get them to leave in as little time as possible.
It wasn’t that I disliked either of the men, quite the opposite. I’d rejected Hawker’s offer to join their group a couple of times each year since I was fifteen, but they were cool to be around, and if they hadn’t been a constant reminder of my parents, I would have jumped at the opportunity to work with them. Bringing Miller was a new move, and as I watched them calmly walk into my small living room, I wondered what tactic they’d use this time.
“How are things, Snow?” Hawker asked when we’d stared at each other in silence for a while.
“Cut it, Hawk,” I replied calmly. “You’re here because you want something from me. If it’s another offer to join your little army of badasses, then my answer is still no, and if it’s something else then spit it out.”
His face changed subtly, in a way that made me wonder if I’d somehow hurt him with my comment.
“Jesus,” he muttered, after a while. “Chip off the old block.”
Oh, hell no. The hurt I’d seen on Hawker's face was apparently from remembering his friend, but talking about my father wasn’t allowed, he knew that. I was about to open the door and ask them to leave when he straightened. I knew they anyway wouldn’t go until they were good and ready, and closed my mouth. His eyes changed, just as subtly as before. They were suddenly hard and determined.
“This time it isn’t an offer, Snow.”
“What?”
“Drugs are brought into the country via the Islands,” he said.
I kept glaring at him because this was in no way news to me. The Islands had been a backdoor into our country for a long time, and everyone knew it. They’d increased border patrols and trained a lot of the locals to work in law enforcement recently, and according to the papers, it had helped control the problem.
“You’re friendly with Jamieson,” Hawker said, changing the topic abruptly.
“Yes,” I said warily, wondering where he was going with that comment.
A while back they discovered that a man had fooled Hawker’s young niece into thinking that she had the kind of paranormal abilities which a handful of people in Norton was born with. When doing so, he’d fooled the girl into sharing a lot of information about the group around Hawker and the bond they all had with their birds. There had also been a connection to the horrible pseudo-scientific program Jiminella had been forced into as a child. The program had abused a group of teenagers who all had an intelligence so high they qualified as geniuses, but Jiminella had managed to close it down. The one they suspected could be the imposter was James Jamieson, a friend of Jiminella’s, who had also been in that program.
I hadn’t cared so much about Hawker and his activities. I did, however, care about Dante and Jiminella, more than anything, so before Dante could stop me, I contacted Jamie. When I told him that I was now living in Prosper City and needed someone to show me around, he’d immediately volunteered. Fifteen minutes into our first dinner I’d excused myself and texted Dante from the restroom that there was no way this gentle, funny man was behind any of the bad things that had happened. Suspecting that the kind, and rather geeky, doctor was some sort of criminal mastermind, responsible for kidnapping and attacking Mary and Miller, friends from the village I’d been born in, was ridiculous. To imagine him plotting to kill Jinx was borderline insane.
I’d continued seeing Jamie now and then because I liked him, and he made me laugh. Not many did, at least not genuinely, although I’d perfected my happy giggle to the point where no one seemed to suspect that it was an act.
“We think Jamieson’s family is involved. Perhaps he is too,” Hawker said.
“Wh –”
“They have too much money.”
“But –”
“And we don’t know where it’s coming from,” Hawker concluded.
“You need to shut up,” I said coolly.
There was no way Jamie would be involved in smuggling drugs. No way.
“I know, Snow,” Miller sighed, reading my face accurately. “I didn’t believe it at first either. But the matriarch of his family has built a very nice house this year, and she has a good-sized retirement fund. The family members are mostly fishermen, like everyone else out there, and they rent out a few rooms to the tourists. So…” He paused and looked at me with eyes that were gentle, but very determined. “With everything else that’s been swirling around Jamieson, we need to look into it.”
“You do that,” I said dismissively.
“Can’t,” Hawker muttered sourly. “Someone needs to go there.”
“So, go,” I snapped.
“Can’t,” Hawker repeated. “None of us would ever vacation on the Islands, and everyone, including Jamieson, knows it. They’d cotton on to our investigation before we even put our feet on the tarmac.”
The beat of my pulse suddenly started to thump in my ears, and my shoulders tensed. I realized why they were there, casually leaning against my kitchen counter but watching me gravely.
“I’m not going,” I said, trying to stop them from asking me something I’d anyway refuse to do.
“It’s not a request, Snow,” Hawker growled, repeating his earlier words. “You’ll have to do this.”
“No.”
“Snow,” Miller said gently. “Oz would have –”
“Do not talk to me about what my father would have wanted, Miller,” I snapped.
They looked at me in silence for a long time, and a strange mood entered the room. Then Miller raised his hand and squeezed Hawker’s shoulder as if he was giving him his support. My belly hurt, partly from the comment Mill had made about my father, although mostly because I’d started to feel cornered in a way I did not like.
“I know what you do,” Hawker said calmly.
“What?”
“Don’t act stupid, Snow,” he said impatiently. “Climbing? Diving? Base jumping?”
It was a
struggle to keep my face blank and my voice free of emotions.
“Really?” I asked haughtily, which only made Hawker’s face harden.
Then he took two steps forward and leaned down to snag something off the carpet under my coffee table. Without a word, he held it up, and I clenched my jaws to keep from cursing loudly.
It was a red D-shaped carabiner, with little other use than for rock climbing. He flicked the spring, and the click seemed to echo through my small home.
“Really,” he confirmed. “We’ve known for years, Snow.”
“Is that so?” I murmured evasively.
“Do you think d’Augustine would appreciate hearing about it?” he rumbled.
What in the hell? He’d tell Dante?
My mind started spinning with various options for how I would explain everything to my cousin. Dante would be angry, although not so much about the fact that I’d done the things I’d done, I suspected. He’d be very hurt by the fact that I’d kept it from him, though.
“I don’t –”
“And I know who you sleep with,” Hawker continued, ignoring my feeble protest.
I blinked. Then I understood what he was talking about.
Nick.
I wasn’t sleeping with Nick, not in the way Hawker thought, but we’d shared a tent several times and had slept on my boat a few nights. He’d been to my condo many times too, and often late at night.
“Do you think d’Augustine would appreciate hearing about that?” Hawker asked again.
No, I did not think Dante would appreciate hearing that.
Then Hawker hit me with his final blow.
“Do you think Jinx would be happy hearing about it?”
I blinked. Why would Jiminella care about who I slept with, or not?
“When she’s under the impression you’re dating her buddy, Jamieson?” Hawker added.
I wasn’t dating Jamie, or, maybe I was in a way, but we were friends. We hadn’t kissed or anything, so it wasn’t exactly dating in my mind, but I knew Jiminella would disagree with me on that. She’d be incredibly hurt by Hawker’s words, true or not, which meant Dante would be even more upset. My cousin rarely got angry, but I could see how this whole situation would make him explode.
