Kissed by Ice

by Shéa MacLoed

  I had a feeling I was going to need all the luck I could get.

  # # #

  The door to Inigo's room was partially open, and I heard the murmur of voices from inside. Peering around the door frame, I saw a woman sitting on a chair next to the bed talking to Inigo. It was Tanith, my friend Cordelia's sister, and the one they called the Dragon Child. She actually had Inigo smiling. Relief flooded me. It was going to be okay.

  I rapped softly on the door before stepping into the room. I grinned widely. "You're looking better."

  His smile disappeared so fast that for a moment, I thought I'd imagined it. But I hadn't. He could smile for Tanith, but for me he was nothing but a cold, hard shell. My heart sank. Things weren't going to be okay after all.

  "Morgan!" Tanith jumped up from her chair and flew around the bed in a swirl of bright yellow and lime green to wrap me in a hug. I had no idea what the hell she was wearing, but it was eye searing bright. "It is so good to see you again. How are you? You've got extra freckles. Have you been in the sun?" Her words spilled over in a bright jumble. That was Tanith for you. Where Cordelia was calm—well, calmer—Tanith was like a brightly colored super ball bouncing around like crazy, never staying still.

  I touched my nose where the freckles in question had broken out. "I'm fine and yes, I have." My words were muffled seeing as how my face was half squashed against her shoulder. She smelled of lilac and lilies of the valley. It was a nice scent, but it made my nose twitch. Damn allergies. "Maybe you could let me breathe?"

  She laughed as she let me go. "Oh, you have been missed."

  I wasn't sure who besides her had missed me. Clearly Inigo hadn't. I cleared my throat. "How's the patient?"

  Tanith started to open her mouth, but before she could say anything, Inigo snarled, "The patient is lying right here."

  "Fine," I said, forcing a smile. "How are you?"

  "None of your business."

  "Excuse me?" I'd never wanted to slap someone so much in my life. How dare he? After all we'd been through. He was behaving worse than Jack ever had. At least Jack had been an ass because he'd been attempting to put his so-called duty first. Inigo was just plain… being an ass.

  "You heard me," he growled. Then he rolled over, turning his back to me.

  Before I could say something I probably would have regretted later, Tanith pulled me from the room and shut the door behind us. She sighed deeply as she led me down the hall toward the staircase. "I am so sorry," she said, keeping her voice low. Dragons had very keen hearing. "He doesn't mean it."

  "Sure sounds like he does."

  She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and giving me a weak smile. "All right. He does. But not the way you think. He isn't quite himself these days."

  "I thought his recovery was going well."

  "It is. He's doing very well with physical therapy, but that isn't the problem."

  "What is?"

  She paused for a moment before slowly descending the stairs. "His mental state."

  "His mental state seemed just fine a minute ago," I snapped, keeping pace beside her. "The two of you were practically having a party in there." It wasn't fair, but I couldn't help myself. Part of me was jealous. Not in a sexual sort of way—I knew Tanith and Inigo didn't have that kind of relationship—but in that sort of intimate way partners should have. Where they share themselves. Their thoughts. Their feelings. Inigo was sharing nothing with me. He was giving to Tanith what he should have been giving to me.

  "That's because I wasn't there."

  I stumbled, practically tripping down the rest of the stairs. "What do you mean?"

  "Inigo has a pretty severe case of PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder."

  "I know what it is." It came out in a snarl.

  "Of course." She nodded graciously. "I'm sorry."

  I was the one being an asshole, and she was being nice to me. I took a deep breath. "No, I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch, and I have no right to be. You're doing everything you can to help him. It's not your fault he…we…" I stopped. If I went any further I was going to break down and cry like a baby.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and took my hands in hers. "Morgan, I am so very sorry about all this. It's not your fault. Not at all. But when he looks at you, he remembers what happened and that triggers something in his mind. He starts having flashbacks, horrible nightmares. It's like he's right back there in that moment when that bloody bitch of a queen nearly ripped his heart out of his chest. Can you blame him if he can't look at you right now?"

  I couldn't. Even though I wanted to. Even though it felt like it was my heart being ripped out.

  "It's going to take time," she assured me. "Just give him time. Right now he's pushing you away, but eventually his mind will heal, and he'll be himself again. Able to love you again."

  I gave her a smile and a nod. "Sure," I said. "You're right." But I knew she wasn't. I'd known people with PTSD before. Hunters, cops, soldiers. None of them were ever the same. Look at me. The night I died changed my life forever. People who had once been my closest friends were no longer in my life. It was just the way things were.

  With a last glance up the stairs, I bid Tanith goodbye and strode out of the castle without looking behind me. If Inigo needed time, I could give that to him. It was all he would let me give.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stood at the ship railing, the ocean spray peppering my face with cold drops of salty water. Above me, the wind whipped black clouds into a frenzy. As waves tossed the ship like a toy boat in a child's bathtub, rain pelted from ever darkening skies.

  I knew if this storm didn't stop, the boat would go down with all hands on-board never to be seen again. Men and women screamed as they ran to and fro on the deck, terrified. There weren't enough lifeboats. Not for everyone. If this did not stop, everyone would die.

  I turned to the man next to me. Surely he knew a way out of this. But what could he do, a mere human? And such a small one that. He barely came to my shoulder. His fringe of gray hair tossed about wildly in the wind and rain speckled his glasses. He looked so calm, standing there at the rail.

  "Edward, you must help us," I cried, grasping for a lifeline amidst the chaos. "We will all drown." Although, what I expected him to do, I could not have said.

  He simply smiled at me as though the storm raging around us was is of no consequence. Then he turned back to watch the heaving gray water below us. The howl of the wind grew louder, drowning out the passengers' screams.

  "Edward" I tried again. "Please. There must be something." Though what, I did not know. What could any of us do against the mighty power of Nature herself?

  "Any moment now," he said. "Patience"

  With each passing second, the storm grew increasingly ferocious, and my fear grew with it. What did he plan to do? Why was he waiting? Surely he realized that time was of the essence. I reminded myself there was nothing a mere human could do, so it did not matter.

  Suddenly the sea surged into the air in a great plume. Salt water sprayed in all directions, soaking me to the skin. Something emerged from the column of water. An enormous figure loomed over us: a god rising from the ocean. His skin, blue like the sea itself, gleamed wetly in the faint light of the stormy sky. His eyes glowed like the fires of Hell. He was so fierce, I quailed in terror. My legs gave out beneath me and my bowels turned to water. Surely death itself was upon us.

  "Poseidon," Edward said, his voice as calm as if we were taking tea on a summer's day. "Fancy meeting you here." There was a droll tone to his voice that belied the danger we were surely in. There was steel there, too, underneath.

  All I could do was stare, mouth agape, eyes darting from the massive god to the small man beside me. How could Edward stand against such a one as Poseidon? Wait a moment. Poseidon was real? I could hardly wrap my mind around such a thought. I'd seen so many things in my time, but this this topped them all.

  The great god bellowed his displeasure, the
heat of his breath blasting the ship. The screams of the people around us increased in volume, drowning out even the raging of the sea and the howling of the wind. Their terror was palpable. Not that I blamed them. The hair on the back of my neck was standing straight on end. And yet Edward appeared completely unaffected.

  "Down boy," Edward snapped as if speaking to a yappy dog that would not behave. Much to my surprise, Poseidon obeyed, slinking down into the sea like a chastised child. As he did, the sea began to calm, the wind died down, and the clouds began to part.

  I stared at Edward in surprise as a ray of sun found its way through the clouds, shining directly onto my friend. Who was he that the god of the sea obeyed him?

  I woke with a start to find myself not on the prow of the ship, but still safely on a plane headed home. If one can call a tin can flying through the air at several thousand feet safe.

  How fun. I had another crazy dream to add to my collection. As if there wasn't enough crazy in my life already.

  What was really strange was that this time it wasn't about some dead ancient Atlantean Priest or high Priestess. It wasn't about a Fire Bearer throwing herself from a cliff. No, this was about someone I actually knew. This was about Eddie, and Eddie had bossed around Poseidon like he was a recalcitrant child. My suspicions about Eddie were growing deeper by the minute. Who exactly was he? We were going to have a talk when I got home to Portland. This time he wasn't going to blow me off.

  # # #

  Since time was of the essence, I went straight from the Portland International Airport to Eddie's shop, Majick and Potions. It was late in the day, but I knew he would be there. It seemed Eddie was always there when he wasn't on a steampunk cruise being attacked by vampires.

  The parking lot was empty when I arrived, except for a lime green Vespa parked near the front steps: Eddie's preferred mode of transportation. The little bell above the door jangled as I pushed it open, and a wall of incense hit me full in the face, making my nose itch. The sneeze hit so hard, it doubled me over. Eddie really needed to open a window or something.

  I wandered down the aisles, paying special attention to the gemstones as I went. A gorgeous chunk of raw aquamarine caught my eye, and I wrapped my hand around it, feeling the power flowing within. They always called to me, the gemstones. And I always reached out to them, soaking in their warmth and energy. I wasn't sure if it was one of my Powers, or if it was a Hunter thing. Or maybe I'd just lost my mind. Anything was possible.

  Eddie poked his head out between the orange and gold striped curtains that blocked off the back room. "Morgan," he called cheerfully, "you made it. Tea?"

  I couldn't help the smile. "Sure. Thanks." I heard rattling from the small kitchenette behind the curtain. "You and Kabita couldn't find anything out from the book, huh?"

  "'Fraid not," Eddie replied, his voice muffled by the curtain. "It was most frustrating, I admit. I wish the book was more cooperative. But you know what they say about wishes and Hippocampi." There was more banging and rustling, and the sound of water filling a teapot.

  "I think you mean horses, Eddie."

  His head popped between the curtains again, and he frowned at me. "Do I? Are you certain?"

  "Pretty sure. Yeah."

  He disappeared again. "Well, that makes no sense. There are plenty of horses around. Not so many Hippocampi. In any case, we're out of luck where that book is concerned."

  "Maybe it will show me something," I suggested. I doubted it, but there were other things I wanted the book to show me.

  "Go ahead and try. Maybe the fickle thing will give you something it wouldn't give us."

  I wandered casually behind the register and pulled out Eddie's sentient book. Laying it carefully on the counter, I glanced behind me to make sure Eddie was still busy with the tea, then I carefully flipped open the cover. I had no intention of looking for anything regarding Alister or his little book: the key to the Key, whatever that meant. At least not yet. I mean, I knew I was the "Key" in question, but what the book from France had to do with anything was a big, fat question mark. I wanted to find out what the sentient book had to say about Eddie. I felt a little bit guilty about spying on my friend, but I needed answers. Something about him wasn't adding up, and he'd been rather vague about answering questions. Not to mention that crazy dream I'd had.

  As the sentient book began flipping through pages all by itself, I focused on Eddie and my dream about Poseidon. The pages finally riffled to a stop, and the book lay open to a page decorated with swirling blue and aqua waves around the edges. At the top of the page swooping gold letters spelled out "Nereus." Baffled, I quickly scanned the page. According to the book, Nereus was a figure in ancient Green mythology. He'd been a Titan, the only one who'd avoided getting sent off to where the gods had sent the Titans after the war. He was the father of the Nereids and some dude called Nerites, who looked suspiciously like a Hippocampus. He was a shape shifter with the power of prophecy, who'd aided heroes such as Hercules. He was known for his truthfulness, virtue, and passion for what was right. He was supposedly trustworthy and gentle. And as, according to Greek mythology, Poseidon was married to Nereus's granddaughter, Amphitrite, 'he was technically the grandfather-in- law of Poseidon, the god of the sea.

  Holy fuckballs. Eddie was a freaking Titan? How was that even possible?

  I stared at the page, the colorful words blurring before my eyes. Impossible. How could he be the grandfather-in-law of Poseidon? It was crazy, and yet I'd seen crazier. Well, maybe not crazier, but pretty darn close.

  Eddie cleared his throat behind me, and I started guiltily. I turned slowly to meet his gaze. Strangely, he seemed more embarrassed than anything. A flush rode his cherubic cheeks.

  "So," he said, clearing his throat. "I guess you know."

  "Do I?" I glanced back down at the book. I still wasn't entirely sure I wasn't still asleep on the plane somewhere. "Is it true?"

  He shrugged as he placed the tea things on the counter, rattling the teacups slightly. "I rather suppose it is."

  I blinked. I took a deep breath. "That means you're one of those they called the Titans. You were here even before the gods."

  "Yes, that's true," Eddie said, busying himself with the tea. "Sugar?"

  I nodded, and he tossed a couple lumps of raw sugar into my teacup, followed by a splash of real cream. He swirled it around carefully before handing me the cup.

  "Does it matter?" His tone was very careful.

  "That you're an all-powerful being who can command the obedience of gods? That you're as ancient as the world itself, maybe even more so?" I thought about it for a moment. I couldn't seem to take it in. It was too big. Too much. It was so much easier to think of him as an eccentric man with a penchant for things Victorian. "I guess not. You're still my friend, right?"

  He beamed at me, that wide grin that was full of sunshine. "Of course, Morgan. Always."

  "I wish you'd told me. You know all about me. Don't you trust me?"

  His smile faded, and his face fell. He looked more hang-dog than cherubic. "You are right, my dear. But I simply did not know how to tell you such a thing. How does one tell one's friend that one is…"

  "Literally older than the hills?"

  That startled a laugh out of him. "Indeed."

  "Yeah, I guess that's a tough one." I gave him a wide grin and slammed the book shut. "Well, now I know, and all that matters is that you're my friend. You have any biscuits to go with that tea?"

  Eddie snorted. "You and your British-ism's," he chuckled, handing me a plate of cookies. I could almost feel the relief radiating from him. How odd that possibly one of the most powerful creatures in the world cared what I thought of him. "Now, shall we have a look and see if the book is willing to talk about other things more important to the immediate future?"

  "Sure. Let's give it a try." I bit into the tea biscuit, enjoying the sweet taste of vanilla.

  I flipped open the book again. This time I focused on Alister and the key to the Ke
y. The sentient book riffled through its pages once again, this time landing on a page covered with images in rich jewel tones. Across the top in swirly silver ink highlighted with turquoise and aqua was written the word "grimoire."

  "All right," I said. "This is interesting. According to this, the key to the Key isn't just some ordinary old book. Holy crap…" I read it again to make sure. "Does that say what I think it does?"

  He adjusted his spectacles and peered down at the page. "Oh, my. This says it's a relic of the Atlantean Empire."

  "Atlantis?" I practically squeaked. "It's really Atlantean? Not just written in their language?"

  "Not at all. It's actually from Atlantis. That isn't the most important part," Eddie said, reading further. "The Atlantean book is a sort of Book of Shadows, if you will. A grimoire of various spells and such performed by the High Priests. Though perhaps 'spells' are the wrong word seeing as how we're dealing with quantum physics here. The ancients did not refer to it as magic, as we do…."

  I scanned the page quickly, noting the book was original, not a copy or translation. It was the real deal. Written by the High Priest of Atlantis himself over ten thousand years ago. A relic of the lost Atlantean empire. Holy amazeballs.

  "Look," I said, tapping the page. "This says there is something in the grimoire. Spell or whatever you want to call it. Something that would allow whoever uses it to control not just vampires but any creature: humans, djinn, even the Queen of the Sidhe herself."

  "Oh, Hades." Eddie had an interesting way of swearing.

  "Exactly," I agreed. "Can you imagine if Alister figures out how to perform that spell?"

  "All hell would break loose, quite literally."

  "I don't suppose the book says where to find this grimoire?"

  We both perused the page, groaning as the answer became clear. No such luck. The book said nothing about where the grimoire was located at that exact moment. Nothing about Alister or his plans. Nothing of any use at all.

  "Damn." I had hoped for more.

  "I couldn't have said it better myself," Eddie said, selecting a cookie from the plate. He held up the teapot. "More tea?" he asked before sloshing coppery liquid into my cup.