Kissed by Ice

by Shéa MacLoed

  I joined him on the platform. "Anything new?"

  He shook his head as he led me toward the exit. "Still looking. Turns out he owns a couple of flats on the Royal Mile. According to my sources, he was staying in one, but by the time I got there, the place was empty."

  "And no leads to where he might've gone?"

  "Not one." Frustration colored his tone. It looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. His edginess was almost palpable, and it was making me cranky.

  "Okay," I said. "I'd like to see the place for myself."

  "You think I missed something?" He sounded offended. Stupid man and his gods-awful pride. Made me want to smack him upside the head.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. But a second set of eyes never hurts." I wasn't about to downplay how serious this was to sooth his wounded ego. I had a job to do.

  "Fine," he ground out. "Car's over there."

  He led me to a small, dirty blue Fiat parked on the street near the train station. It was one of the ugliest damn cars I'd ever seen, but we were sure to blend in fine. With Alister, our only chance was if he never saw us coming. After storing my bag in the trunk, or boot, as they called it there, I slid into the passenger seat on the left side of the car. Jack started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

  The train station wasn't far from the Royal Mile, so it wasn't long before we were pulling into a small private car park. Leaving my bag in the car, Jack led me the few blocks to Alister's flat. It was a modest second floor walk-up, which surprised me. I'd expected a penthouse suite or something fancier, not this humble one-bedroom with the world's smallest kitchenette.

  Jack lingered inside the door while I prowled around the apartment. There wasn't much to see: no pictures on the walls, no food in the fridge, no toiletries in the bathroom. The only thing left in the wardrobe was a single wire hanger. I even checked under the bed and behind the fridge; nothing but dust bunnies.

  I stood in the middle of the living room and turned slowly in a circle. The sagging couch was at least ten years old and the TV not much newer. There was a cheap, flat, pack-end table with a brass lamp that looked like it had come from a thrift shop. The dented lampshade had once been cream, but was now a dirty beige. I lifted the couch cushions and found a single copper pence and a couple stale pieces of popcorn. I let the cushions fall back into place with a sigh.

  "There's absolutely nothing here."

  Jack shrugged as if to say "Told you." It's a good thing he didn't say it out loud, or I might have slugged him. His attitude lately had been testing my patience.

  "Not helpful, Jack." I moved into the bedroom and stared at the bed, frowning. I lifted the duvet, and a small puff of dust rose into the air. Letting it fall back into place, I strode back into the front room. "He was never here. Alister was never in this apartment."

  Jack frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "I know some of you men aren't big on cleanliness," I said. "But even you must've noticed there's way too much dust here. The bed hasn't been slept in. That TV—" I stabbed a finger in the direction of the set—" is way out of date. The entire UK went digital years ago. It wouldn't even receive a signal now. This is all…set dressing."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Nobody lives here, Jack. Nobody even stays here. I don't know how Alister convinced your 'sources' he was holing up here, but I'll bet anything he never set foot in this place."

  "My sources wouldn't lie." Jack's jaw was clenched, a sure sign he was pissed.

  "Not saying they did. I'm saying they were fooled. Alister tricked them. I don't know how, but he was never in this building."

  "Fine. So where is he?"

  I shook my head. "No idea. But I'll bet he's nowhere near Scotland." Jade had said the place would be so obvious, I wouldn't expect it. And while I hadn't expected Scotland, it wasn't an obvious place either. It felt all wrong.

  Jack let out a growl of frustration and slammed his fist against the wall. The lath and plaster cracked under the impact. I wanted to say something snarky, but I bit my tongue. No point getting him more riled up than he already was.

  "Now what?" Jack snarled.

  He was asking me? That was a first. "I say you go back to your sources and see what you can dig up."

  "And you?"

  "I've got a Dragon to visit."

  Chapter Nineteen

  For a guy who liked to wear worn jeans and black leather jackets, Drago's office was surprisingly elegant. The walls were covered in bookshelves stuffed with leather-bound volumes. The plush carpet was the color of port wine, and the massive oak desk was stained almost black. I wasn't surprised to note that the intricately carved legs were dragons. Everywhere I looked were dragons: dragon statuettes in niches, dragon tapestries hanging from the walls. There was an even a little pewter box on Drago's desk with a dragon perched on top'.

  "Overkill on the dragon theme, don't you think?"

  He rolled his eyes. "People seem to think because I'm the king of the dragons, I need a bunch of dragon shit. What else am I supposed to do with it? Do you know what kind of a bollocking I would get if one of the dukes walked in and their gift wasn't on display?"

  "Good point." I sank into one of the cushy chairs opposite him.

  "What can I do for you, Morgan?" Tilting back in his chair, he propped his booted feet on the massive desk. He looked more like a cover model for a romance novel than royalty. "If it's about Inigo, not much I can do there." He sounded like he was sorry about that. I didn't blame him. You can't make people do stuff they don't want to do, and I seriously doubted Inigo was open to his brother meddling.

  "I know. It's not that. It's Alister Jones."

  "What's that asshole up to now?"

  A smiled tugged at my lips. "He's in the wind. Still. We almost had him in the Caribbean, but he got away. Jack got a lead that he was in Edinburgh, but when we got there, we found no trace of him. Pretty sure it was a deliberately false lead."

  "How can I help?" He steepled his fingers and stared at me with inscrutable gold eyes.

  "Rumor has it you have a network of, ah, informants," I said.

  He raised an eyebrow. I couldn't tell if he was surprised or upset that I knew. "Who told you that?"

  The truth was, no one had, but it made sense. You don't become the leader of your people if you don't have the smarts to gather the knowledge to keep them safe. Especially if your species has been hunted for centuries. The only way to stop an egomaniac out to kill you is to get in front of him. To have better information than he has. To know what he's going to do before he does it.

  "Does it matter? Point is, I know, and I need your help stopping Alister."

  He tilted back little farther and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "I'll send out some feelers, let you know what I find. "

  "Thanks." I started to get up, but his next words stopped me.

  "As for Inigo. I know you're hoping things will change," he said. "But they might not. I told you when we started this whole thing he might never be the same."

  What he'd told me was that Inigo might not survive, but he had. "He's alive," I said. "That's what matters."

  "Is it?"

  I shook my head and gave him a weak smile before striding from the room. It had to be. I refused to believe it would have been better if I'd let him die.

  # # #

  My footsteps slowed as I reached the door to Inigo's room. Part of me was eager to see him again, but a bigger part of me was terrified by what I'd find. I dreaded another run-in with the cold, hard man he'd become. That was not the Inigo I knew and loved. That was not the man who held me when I needed it and kicked me in the butt when I needed that. I felt guilty, but he was a stranger, and I really didn't want to see him again. I wanted my Inigo back. That was the truth. I wasn't sure what I'd do if the stranger was there again. Tanith had told me to be patient, to wait. I wasn't sure I had it in me. I wasn't sure my heart wouldn't break long before he healed.

  Telling myself to grow a freaking backb
one, I stepped to the open doorway. He was sitting in a chair next to the window, the sunlight shining on his golden hair. He was wearing clothes too, not just pajamas. I couldn't help but feel a little thrill of hope. Clearly, he was getting better. Physically, at least.

  "Inigo?" I hated the hesitation in my voice and the butterflies in my stomach. This was ridiculous. He was my boyfriend. I shouldn't be afraid to see him, talk to him. And yet I was.

  He turned slightly until his eyes caught mine. Those beautiful blue eyes that had once looked at me with such love, such passion. At least this time they weren't cold.

  "Morgan." His tone was neutral. I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me, angry, or what. Maybe he just didn't care. I shoved that thought aside. I could take anything but that.

  "I wanted to see how you're doing," I said, pausing at the foot of the bed. I could smell him, a chocolatey campfire scent tinged with vanilla that was his alone. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and breathe him in, but instead I wrapped my hand around the bedpost and clung to it for dear life.

  Inigo glanced out the window as if he found the sweeping green lawn behind the castle fascinating. "Better," he said.

  "That's good." I didn't know what else to say. He wasn't exactly encouraging, but at least there wasn't that cold anger. I didn't think I could've handled that. "It's good to see you out of bed."

  He shrugged. "Guess I was getting tired of lying around."

  It wasn't exactly a joke, but I'd take it. Since he wasn't yelling at me to leave him alone, I perched on the edge of the bed. I felt awkward, out of place. I had no idea what to say. The sad thing was, Inigo and I had always had things talk about, and suddenly there was nothing. I reminded myself to be thankful the emotionless stranger seemed to be gone. Awkwardness I could deal with. If I had to.

  Inigo cleared his throat. "So what's been going on? Catch me up." He tried to keep his tone light, but I could tell it was a struggle. I guessed we were going with the whole "pretend everything's normal" thing.

  I gave him a quick rundown on my trip to the Caribbean, complete with vampires and Alister Jones. I told him about my new power, my training with Tommy, the visit to Nevada and Jade, and everything we'd done so far to try and find Alister. I didn't mention Haakon. I'm not sure why. It wasn't like there was anything going on with us, but something kept me from telling Inigo about the Viking Sunwalker.

  "Sounds exciting," he said dryly.

  "Oh, you know me," I said. "A thrill a minute."

  There was another awkward pause, punctuated only by the hum of a hedge trimmer from below. The castle came with some very nice gardens, if the view from Inigo's window was anything to go by.

  I cleared my throat. "You? Anything exciting?"

  "The usual. Physical therapy, mental bullshit. Drago's been by a few times to help me with my Dragon abilities."

  That surprised me. I hadn't realized the healing coma had affected that part of him. "Really? Has it been helpful?" Gods, the awkwardness was killing me.

  "Yeah," he said. "I've actually been able to shift a couple times."

  "That's good," I said lamely. I didn't know what else to say. But if he could shift to his Dragon form, that had to be a good sign, right?

  "Tanith says I can go home soon." His tone was completely neutral. No indication as to whether he considered this a good or bad thing. Whether he wanted to go or stay. No excitement. No happiness. But no sadness either.

  "Great!" I forced a cheerfulness I didn't feel. "So, you really must be on the mend. Are you looking forward to going home?" When in doubt, just confront the question head-on. Even if the answer hurt like hell.

  Inigo shrugged. "Guess so. It's time. Can't bum around here the rest of my life." It sounded like it was something he'd actually considered.

  "So, um, when do you plan to fly back to Portland?" And were we still together? And did he still love me? But I didn't ask those questions because I really didn't want to know the answers. I had a feeling I might not like what he had to say.

  "Next week."

  I forced a smile. "I could pick you up at the airport."

  "Sure." He didn't sound terribly enthusiastic, but I'd take what I could get.

  "Fantastic. Text me with your flight info," I said, standing up. "It was good to see you."

  He nodded, but didn't say he was happy to see me. I tried not to take it personally, but it was almost impossible not to. I gave him another forced smile and strode from the room, keeping my back ramrod straight. I waited until I was safely in the car with the doors locked before I let the tears fall.

  Chapter Twenty

  I spent the next week in a constant state of near panic. I could hardly eat. I could barely sleep. And if Kabita's snarky comments were anything to go by, I'd turned into a raving bitch. I was so anxious about Inigo's impending return to Portland, I couldn't seem to focus on anything. With Jack and Trevor off hunting Alister, and Kabita swamped with paperwork, I was left to do the usual: hunt vampires. Vamps didn't take the night off because I was feeling out of sorts.

  Shortly before midnight, I pushed my way through the doors of Fringe. A visit to the nightclub popular with the supernatural set had not been in my original plan, but driving along the dark streets of Portland, I'd had the sudden inspiration to visit my friend, Cordelia. Maybe her clairvoyant talents were the key we needed to solve the puzzle of Alister.

  The club was dark inside, lit only by dim red lights along the walls and the blue neon behind the bar. The occasional strobe lit up the dance floor, highlighting the writhing bodies dancing in the dark. Cordelia's alcove was on the other side of the dance floor, so I pushed my way into the heaving crowd. I had made it to the middle of the floor when I found myself being half-molested by a shape shifter. I wasn't sure what kind he was, but I was guessing some sort of cat from the way he was rubbing himself all over me. His eyes flashed gold in the next strobe, and I swear to the gods, I heard him purr. He smelled of musk and green, living things. The scent swirled around me, tangling my senses. He slid a hand down my body, coming perilously close to my lady parts.

  I grabbed his hand and jerked it away with a glare that had made vampires quail. His eyes widened as he pulled free and backed away, palms toward me in the sign of universal surrender. I waved him off and pushed my way through the crowd toward the alcove where Cordelia Nightwing held court.

  The shimmering silver privacy curtain was slightly open, which told me she was available. I slipped through the opening and plopped myself in the chair opposite her. She glanced up from her tarot cards with a smile, blue eyes dancing with merriment.

  "I see Lothario got to you."

  I snorted. "That's not seriously his name, is it?"

  She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I doubt it, but that's what everyone calls him. More than one woman has fallen under his spell." She tucked a dark lock of hair behind one ear.

  "No way. You?" Cordy didn't seem the type to fall for an over-hormonal cat shifter.

  "What can I say?" she said, with a slight tilt of her head. "He was amazing in bed."

  "Ew. TMI. I hope you checked for fleas afterward." It was snarky and mean, but it was how I was feeling. The guy had dry-humped me in the middle of a nightclub. That shit was reserved for one man and one man only.

  "Well, somebody's a cranky pants," Cordelia said as she shuffled her tarot deck. She was wearing a bright red silk kimono embroidered with gold dragons and a matching turban wrapped around her dark hair. She always claimed she dressed like that so as not to disappoint her customers, but I was pretty sure she just liked wearing kimonos.

  I snorted. "You'd be cranky too, if you were in my shoes."

  She eyed me carefully. "Problems?"

  She didn't need her spirit guides to tell her that. "The usual. We almost had that bastard, Alister, but he's in the wind again. Every time we have a lead, it turns into nothing. Drago's got his people working on it, but…" I shook my head.

  "Have you considered scrying for
him?"

  I could have smacked myself in the head. Scrying had never entered my mind. I didn't know why. I worked for a Witch, after all, but I was used to a more direct approach. "Uh, no. Can you do it?"

  She shook her head. "Not my thing. You need a Witch for that. I'm surprised Kabita hasn't suggested it."

  I was too, now I thought of it, but then Kabita tended to be pretty low key about witchy stuff. "I'll ask her."

  "What else is on your mind?" Cordelia asked, eyes on my face. "Let me guess. Boyfriend problems." Nothing slipped passed her.

  I heaved a sigh. "Yeah. Still. I mean, things are better. At least he doesn't openly hate me anymore, but he still acts like I'm some kind of stranger. Cold, you know?"

  "This is normal for his condition?"

  "I guess." I shrugged. "Tanith says I need to give him time."

  "Tanith would know."

  I wondered, not for the first time, about Cordelia's relationship with her sister. It wasn't like they hated each other, but more like they were, well, strangers. Not unlike Inigo and me at the moment. Talk about depressing.

  "I don't suppose the cards have anything to say on the matter?" I asked. It was what I'd come for, after all.

  Cordelia shot me a smile and held out the deck. It was an old one, well worn, with richly colored illustrations in swirling blues and greens. I slid my fingers over the deck, the paper worn smooth from handling, chose three cards, and laid them face-down on the table. She turned the first one over and made a humming sound. She raised her eyebrow as she turned over the second. On turning over the third, she said, "Interesting."

  That didn't sound good. "What is it?" I asked.

  She tapped the first card with her long, crimson fingernail. "I don't need to tell you much about this card," she said. "It represents the past, and you know what your past with Inigo was."