Deep Kiss of Winter / Untouchable

by Kresley Cole

  “Then why would they let you get hurt?”

  “Because they’re asleep.”

  “Gods . . . sleep?”

  “To conserve power. They derive strength from worshippers. And when was the last time you passed a temple dedicated to Freya?”

  He deftly drew her out of the way when a full go-cup dropped from a balcony above, then said, “The one thing I believed without question? You told me that if you started kissing me”—his shoulders went back, cocky grin in place—”you didn’t think you’d be able to stop.”

  Could he be any more handsome? Though her attraction to the vampire was wrong on so many levels, it remained as fierce as ever.

  All night, Danii had been drawn to him. Not surprisingly. Every time she regarded those broad shoulders and steely gray eyes, she recalled their time in his bed. Whenever that lock of hair fell over his forehead, she’d just stopped herself from sighing.

  Though she was an ice queen, acting coldly uninterested with him was becoming more difficult. And coldly uninterested was her shtick!

  When he’d said he’d been the best lover . . . ? Gods help her, she’d believed him.

  But she’d also been anxious about him possibly biting her. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the look in his eyes this morning. “We’ll never find out about the kissing, will we?”

  His brows drew together, as if she’d uttered something monumental. “No. We won’t, then. Ever.” They walked on in awkward silence until she directed him off Bourbon.

  “What’s this store like?” he asked.

  “It’s owned by a purported voodoo priestess named Loa.” Her very name meant voodoo spirit.

  “Loa is a female shop owner?”

  When Danii nodded, he perked up. And considering what Loa looked like, Danii mused that this might be a bad idea.

  But Nïx often dropped by there, and even if Loa knew nothing— doubtful—any of her patrons might have information.

  “Does she have powers?” he asked.

  Just as they reached the shop, Danii drawled, “You have no idea.”

  On the door hung a sign with the universal symbol of the Lore, recognized by all Lorekind—except for the Forbearers. Beside it was a sticker with the word Vampires overlaid with a cross bar. Beneath that were the lines, “No shirt, no soul, no service. We use UV protection.”

  Murdoch frowned. “UV protection? Is that a joke?”

  She shook her head. “It’s candlelit inside, but along the ceiling are UV lights that can be turned on with a panic button—a fail-safe vampire security system.” The Valkyries had wanted a similar setup for Val Hall, but their shrieks would just have shattered the bulbs.

  As unabashed as ever, Murdoch shrugged and opened the door for Danii.

  “Are you sure you want to go in?”

  “You said the owner of this place is a woman? Well, I have a way with women. No panic buttons will be pushed tonight.”

  She rolled her eyes, then entered, with him closely following.

  The front of the shop was a typical tacky tourist haunt, with preserved gator heads and fake gris-gris bags made in China.

  But, like many of the Loreans in the Big Easy, Danii knew there was a back room. Inside those walls was everything from demon-size condoms and non-acetone horn polish to intoxispell hangover relief and ghoul blood remover.

  As expected, candles lit the darkened shop, the bulbs above unused. For now. A lazy, old-fashioned fan buzzed softly, making the candle flames dance.

  “Does that UV really work?” he asked with a glance at the ceiling.

  “Oh, yeah. I was going to swap out the overhead light in your Porsche with one before I left town.”

  “Left New Orleans? Where are you going?”

  Loa sauntered out from the back room, saving Danii from answering. As usual, the sight of Loa made Danii scowl. Gifted with flawless café-au-lait skin and a brick-house body, she spoke with a lilting island accent that men found sexy as hell.

  Would Murdoch?

  Tonight she was wearing an impeccably fitted red silk dress that highlighted her every abundant curve.

  Murdoch gave Loa an appreciative glance, but so far he hadn’t looked like a slavering cartoon wolf in a zoot suit.

  Loa was an enigma. She’d come here—to a town filled with immortals at the most tumultuous time in the Lore—as if she wanted to be first in line for the unrest and war of the Accession.

  When Loa had taken over the shop for her grandmother, Loa Senior, a voodoo high priestess, she’d assumed her new role almost too well.

  Danii recalled telling her at her first open house, “There’s something puzzling about this island vibe you’ve got going. Loa Senior told me her granddaughter was raised in a ritzy suburb outside Parsippany and graduated from Notre Dame. So how’d you get the Caribbean accent?”

  Loa had narrowed her bright amber eyes and answered, “Loa Senior tells tales to impress a Valkyrie.” Then she’d added under her breath, “Don’t try to stuff me into one of your little mental boxes. I won’t fit—any more than you would.”

  “Well, Valkyrie,” she said now, making the word sound like Vakree. “Slumming with vampires, I see. If your sisters found out . . .”

  “They won’t. Because you won’t tell them if you want to stay in business.”

  “What are you thinking, bringing a vampire into my shop? Can you not read the signs?”

  Loa’s attitude rankled. Her red, curve-hugging dress rankled. “Probably not as well as you can, since I don’t have a fancy college degree from Notre Dame.”

  Between gritted teeth, Loa said, “Damn you, I did not go to Notre Dame.”

  “Go Fighting Irish, rah-rah.”

  “I’m Murdoch Wroth, of the Forbearer order,” the vampire interjected smoothly, extending his hand. Loa offered her own out of habit, then clearly thought better of it, but he’d already leaned down and kissed the back of it. “And you must be the incomparable Loa.”

  Could his deep voice be any sexier? It reminded Danii of how he’d sounded in bed this morning.

  Loa gazed up at the vampire, looking a bit thunderstruck. “Murdoch Wroth? Aren’t you one of the legendary Wroth brothers?”

  “One and the same.” He cast Danii a superior grin.

  “If I recall, you were the wayward, bed-hopping one.”

  Danii thought a muscle ticked in his jaw, but he was all polished composure as he said, “Only when around women as lovely as you.”

  Loa actually tittered. “Well, I suppose if your eyes are clear, I could make an exception to my no-vampire rule.”

  “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet such a beautiful proprietress.”

  I’m going to be sick. Except I don’t eat.

  “And I can hear that you’ve been blooded,” Loa said. “Surely not by the ice maiden?”

  “Yes, by her,” he answered in a noncommittal tone.

  Loa smiled. She should. Vampires simply didn’t flirt like this once they’d been blooded. At least, not with anyone but their Brides.

  “What a rogue this one is, ice maiden. You’ll never tame him, child.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  “So you won’t mind if I put you two in Loa’s betting book? The notorious rake blooded by the ice queen—but how long can her frozen clutches keep him from straying?”

  Knowing Loa would do it regardless, Danii affected an unconcerned demeanor. “Knock yourself out.” Cold as a block of ice.

  “I suspect we’ll soon be calling you the Forbearer’s forsaken one—”

  “Can we just get to what we came here for?” Danii interrupted sharply, her cold façade cracking.

  “Ah, yes,” Murdoch said. “Loa, have you heard any information about Ivo the Cruel?”

  Loa turned to Danii. “Why ask me?”

  “Ivo’s in the city.”

  Her lips parted, her amber eyes excited, glowing in the candlelight. “Vampires overrunning us, Lykae hunting these very streets. . . .It’s the Accessio
n. Finally!”

  “And you sound like you’re looking forward to it?” Danii demanded. “What? Do you want to have an Accession sale or something?”

  “Some people benefit. People like me.”

  “Alumni, rah?”

  “Ladies.” Murdoch seemed to find Danii’s surly behavior amusing. If she were surly, it was only because the air was hot in here. Danii always got irritable when hot.

  “This makes sense,” Loa said. “I’d heard Lothaire is here, and he often travels with Ivo.”

  At the mention of Lothaire, Danii stifled a shudder. Ivo was an evil, sociopathic fiend, but he was at least manageable.

  Lothaire, the Enemy of Old, was incomprehensible. No one knew what he wanted, and no one could predict what he’d do next.

  “You know where they might be?” Danii asked.

  “They’re definitely staying in the area.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Lothaire has been seen night after night,” Loa replied. “There are kobolds camping in the sewers by the river. Ask some of them.”

  “I’ll do that. Have you seen Nïx?”

  “Aye, she came round and bought . . . She made a purchase. But I don’t know where she went. Now, back to you, Murdoch.” Loa leaned over the counter onto her elbows, displaying more cleavage than Danii could manage with a thousand water bras.

  When he raised his brows in admiration, Danii stormed from the shop. “Going to make a call outside.” She refused to watch any more of this. After Lafitte’s, she’d gotten her hopes up about the vampire, again, only to have them dashed now. Do I need to see a neon sign flashing THis GUY’S A PLAYER?

  “Directly outside, Daniela,” he ordered, surprising her that he’d even been aware she was leaving—and making her bristle at his commanding tone.

  On the street, fog from the river was stealing over the Quarter, wrapping it in haze. She took a deep breath of low-tide air to calm herself and debated ringing up Nïx. Usually calls were reserved for emergencies, because you never knew when a Valkyrie might need silence for stalking something.

  Deciding this was an emergency, Danii pulled her sat-phone from her satchel, then dialed Nïx’s number.

  And heard Nïx’s Crazy Frog ring tone going off in the next alley over.

  TWENTY

  “I AM ASTONISHED SHE’S EVEN TALKING TO YOU,” Loa said after Daniela had walked out, her tone turning decidedly neutral.

  Murdoch narrowed his eyes. She’d been flirting for the Valkyrie’s benefit? “Why give Daniela such a hard time?”

  “Ooh, the vampire doesn’t like Loa toying with his Bride.”

  “Answer me.”

  “Because she wants to be treated like other Valkyrie, and that’s how I treat them,” the priestess said. “Want some advice?” When he grudgingly nodded, she said, “Watch for her claws curling, vampire. In a Valkyrie, that means she needs a male to sink them into.”

  Daniela, with her claws sunk in my back as I took her—

  “Oh, and here. These are on sale,” Loa said as she bent down behind the counter. “For the ice maiden.” She tossed him a pair of gloves. “Tell her I said to handle you with care. . . .”

  When Murdoch left Loa’s, he wore a victorious grin. He’d purchased the gloves and had garnered a secret about the Valkyrie that could be very helpful to him.

  But by the time Murdoch emerged to the now foggy street, Daniela was gone.

  He started back toward the main thoroughfare. After several moments, he spied Lukyan at a distance, still intently prowling the streets for Ivo. The Cossack always seemed to be devoid of fear, almost as if he had a death wish. Vigilant Rurik traced on the roofs above him.

  Yet there was no sign of Daniela.

  Danii rushed to the sound, peering down the stygian alley. Finally, she spotted the soothsayer, talking to some figure in the shadows.

  “Nïx!” By the time Danii reached her, the figure had hastened away. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Hmmm?” Nïx’s raven-black hair was wild, her golden eyes vacant as usual—she often saw the future more clearly than the present—but she also looked frazzled and tired. Though she wore an immaculate white dress, her hands were filthy.

  “And why are you so dirty?” Danii asked her.

  “I’m dirty? You’re the one getting busy with a leech. You naughty, freaky minx.”

  “Answer the question,” Danii gritted out. “Who was that?”

  “Who was who?”

  Typical Nïx—she could be playing innocent, or she truly could have forgotten who she’d just been talking to seconds before. “What are you doing here?”

  She blinked at Danii. “Laying low like po-po?” At Danii’s glare, Nïx’s mien turned playful. “Trolling for some strange! No? Composing a tweet?”

  “Nïx, are you following me?”

  “Do I need to be?”

  Danii inhaled for patience. “I was looking for you. I need to tell you about—”

  “Myst. Don’t concern yourself. She’s taken care of. As for your next question, you should go somewhere that is not here.” She gazed around as if they might be overheard, then loudly whispered, “There are dempires about.”

  “Dempires?” Danii had never, in her long life, heard the term.

  “And Lykae all around as well.” Nïx jerked her chin in the direction of the main drag.

  Danii glanced over and spotted three Lykae walking by, twins and one more. All of them were striking examples of heart throbbing maleness, but then, Lykae often were.

  Now they stopped, turned toward Danii and Nïx, and sniffed the air. All three tensed with awareness of other Loreans. A standoff. Danii drew ice into her palm.

  Then Nïx wiggled her dirty fingers, beckoning them. Looking scarily crazed with her wild hair and unsettling eyes, she cooed, “Come, puppies. Come meet Destiny.” Out of the corner of her mouth, Nïx stage-whispered, “Destiny is my fist’s name.”

  When the trio spoke in Gaelic, and carried on, Nïx chuckled.

  “What? What’d they say?”

  “That we weren’t worth the bother. That you’re the frigid one and I’m crazy. Seems they’ve got our numbers!”

  The frigid one. Lowly Lykae thought of her like that? My ego’s on life support. Prognosis grim.

  “We’re eventually going to be allies with them, you know,” Nïx said dimly. “In-laws, even.”

  Danii snorted. The Valkyrie considered the Lykae little better than animals. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Would I joke about something like this?”

  “Emphatically, yes. Now tell me, why did you predict I’d get fixed last night?”

  “I said you might. Look at the upside: you got to enjoy a male who wasn’t an Icere bounty hunter and who didn’t have designs to murder you. At least, not until he got peckish.”

  “Would Murdoch have hurt me? Will he?”

  Nïx tilted her head in the direction of Loa’s shop. “I used to be able to read him as easily as his brothers, like open books. But now I get little on him. I just see that you’ve got him confounded, not knowing up from down anymore. At three hundred years old, he’d thought he was quit of uncertainty like this.”

  “Wait, you said brothers? Does more than one live?”

  “You’d better get back to the vampire, he’s about to spot—”

  “Daniela!” Murdoch’s voice boomed down the alley.

  Danii glanced over her shoulder at him, then back, but Nïx had already vanished. Damn it. She swiftly hit redial on her phone, yet all was silence.

  When Murdoch reached her, Danii saw genuine concern on his face. “Why did you leave?”

  She hiked her shoulders. “I thought you’d be longer in there.”

  “Now who’s jealous?”

  “Hardly.”

  “I just wanted to prove that I’m not gruff and brooding,” he said. “Or that I only am with you. And besides, I was just flirting to get information.” When she still glared, he said,
“Admit it, you were jealous.”

  “No, I’m embarrassed. Because everyone would expect you to be possessive and intent only on me. They’re going to see this as a failing in me.”

  “You said the blooding didn’t make one want his Bride.”

  “No, not if the Bride or mate or whatever was objectionable. But am I really that objectionable?”

  His brows drew together. “You truly can’t understand any hesitation on my part?”

  He was making her feel like more of a freak than anyone had in two thousand years.

  But that was a lie. There’d been the Roman. . . .

  “Vampire, I think you’re afraid to settle down—with anyone. You were single for years and celibate for three hundred more. And now you have bachelor’s panic.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “BP? It’s when a man irrationally fears a woman he especially likes. He gets ascared of said woman’s toothbrush breaching the perimeter of his man cave, et cetera.”

  “Panic? I don’t panic,” he sneered the word. “Daniela, you can’t be touched.”

  The frigid one. Enough of this. “No, you can’t! Your heart’s colder than mine. You are the untouchable one.”

  She turned from him, wanting away from this vampire with his unflinching honesty. Because it . . . hurt. The life I have inside my head . . .

  Murdoch followed her. “Just because I’m not ready to blindly accept a Bride I hardly know—for eternity —makes me coldhearted? I’d say it makes me rational.”

  “Oh, so maybe it’s not me, it’s you? Make up your mind!”

  “Even if you were all things perfect for me, I would resent this situation. The Forbearers have learned to fear bloodlust because it makes vampires crazed and out of control. But so does the blooding! Yet we’re supposed to welcome it?” He hastened in front of her, blocking her way. “It’s making me behave in ways I normally wouldn’t. Would you wish this for yourself? To have your personality completely rewritten?”

  “If I had your personality? Ab-so-lutely. Because here’s the thing—you’re not special anymore. You’re not unique in the Lore. You’re a leech who used to have it easy getting laid. And now, you’re just predictable.”