What I had glimpsed about Winter’s life at the vault weighed heavily on my mind. I wanted to know more—perhaps if I learned about the man who had watched me since birth and urged me to take destiny into my own hands would help me understand both his motivations and my reality better.
The pages I had stolen were sitting in my purse. I had snuck them out of the vault tucked inside my bra. I feared Winter would bust me or that the pages themselves wouldn’t withstand the turbulence of the ley line express, but they had made it out intact.
I tapped my fingernails on the windowpane.
What to do?
I was ready. I opened the purse and touched my fingers to the edge of those folded pages. I let the pages go for a moment and then I gripped onto them, pulling them out.
Sitting on the couch, I straightened my pleated skirt and unfolded the creased pages. As if licked by flames, the pages began to shrink, all four corners shriveling up until all that was left in my lap were ashes.
I watched, stunned, as the ashes evaporated into the ether. It was as if the pages had never existed. They were infused with a vanishing spell.
The Immortal files held mysteries never meant to be removed from the archives—never intended for curious outsiders. It was probably the reason why no copies were kept.
I closed my eyes, recalling all that I had retained from that quick glimpse inside the Sacred Vault archive room.
Winter was born during the Nordic bronze era in 1231 BC which made him 3,250 years old. That number alone should have given me pause and a good reason to stay away from him. His birthplace was what is known as the Trondheim Fjord in modern day Norway. He had become a Viking around the 9th century AD and he had been a king, a general and a priest to the Norse god Vidar, probably not in that order. He had left Scandinavia many times for the Mediterranean Sea area, especially ancient Greece. There wasn't any information on his parents in the file except for a numeric reference to their separate files.
The only mention of Chaos that I spotted as I scanned the pages was an event around 913 AD when Winter and Chaos helped save a Chinese village from starvation by introducing new agriculture methods. I’d found nothing about how or when they became shadows.
The thing that had given me pause, though, and had haunted me ever since I read it, was the child that Winter had fathered with a basic woman named Helen Ashford, as recently as 1954. According to the file, that was the only child Winter ever had. Both mother and baby boy were killed in a car crash in early 1955.
Children born of Immortals and basic parents didn’t fully grow into their immortality until they reached adolescence after the Immortal parent kickstarted their etheric essence. Winter’s son never made it to that stage.
The file stated that the Seventh Council had issued a warning that the chief magistrate and shadow warrior was grieving, and that grief had made him unreliable. They suggested giving him a decade before approaching him with any council related matters.
That was where I had stopped reading, interrupted by the return of Winter and Chaos, but I yearned to find out more.
Winter had lost his one and only child, a baby boy named Christian. He had mated with a basic woman. His grief had lasted for at least a decade. He had lied when he said he had never experienced fatherly love. Maybe that pain of loss still lingered.
Everything I thought I knew about him collapsed and went up in flames. There was a part of him that was very human and vulnerable. I didn’t know what to do with that information. I could never ask him about it, and he would never answer. Of that, I was certain.
My phone rang, startling me.
“It’s over,” Faion yelled into the receiver, blasting my eardrum. “The troglodyte elite fighting force have retreated to the mountains as our own troglodytes handed them their asses.”
I took a deep breath in. “For now,” I said. “That’s great news, but it’s not over. I’m not sure anything ever ends.”
I didn’t know if he had heard me. “Our Tam girl is fierce, I’m telling you,” he went on. “She fought with them troglos and taught them a thing or two.”
I smiled. “I can’t wait to see you both.”
“Day after tomorrow,” Faion said. “At my crib.”
Whatever Chaos had done had worked. Somehow, he had singlehandedly solved every single one of my problems and then vanished, leaving no trace. And now his blood was running in my veins and I owed him my life.
Not how I thought things would go. Strange bedfellows as they say.
“Sophie, Lily, dinner’s ready,” Lucia called from the kitchen. To my great relief, she was doing well, she seemed happy and well-adjusted to her everyday life.
The red wine beef stew was steaming in the ceramic pot. Lily set the table and I reached for some paper napkins. Lightning cut the evening sky in half. I looked out the window and froze in place like a dangling icicle.
Winter was crouched on the tile roof of the house across the street. A second lightning flashed behind him, turning his eyes a red gold. I caught a glimpse of his teeth as he grinned and then leapt off to the neighboring roof.
He stood up as raindrops started falling, his blond hair caught in the sparse moonlight. He looked like an ancient savage deity, elegant and frightening, stirring awe and fear in the souls of his subjects.
Oh god. I drew the blinds shut.
“I can’t stay for dinner, sorry, Lucia,” I said as I dashed to the door.
“What?” Lily said. “That stew is Lucia’s masterwork.”
“Save some for me,” I yelled, yanking the front door open.
“Here,” Lucia said, tossing me her red umbrella. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“Mom, what the hell?” I heard Lily’s voice as I slammed the door shut.
My eyes darted up the line of roofs across the street, past satellite antennae and downspouts, looking for Winter.
A dull thud echoed behind me. I spun around as Winter landed in a soft crouch, glossy droplets sparkling on his smiling face.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Waiting for you,” he said. “And watching the neighborhood to make sure no foul beasts lurk in the shadows.”
“And? Did you find any?”
He shook his head. “Besides you? None.”
Raindrops lashed my face. I opened Lucia’s umbrella.
“Is it really over?” I said.
“It will never be over, Luna, not while Horror breathes, but this part has concluded. Düsternis called off the search for you, rattled at the death of an Immortal Magistrate and the incineration of the archives.”
“He now wants Chaos more than he wants me,” I concluded.
“Yes. Much more.”
“I can’t say I blame him.”
The air was lush. His hair was wet down to his scalp, but I didn’t think it bothered him one bit. He reveled in the water elements of the cold season.
“Will you come with me?” he said.
“To the condo?”
“No, you’ll see.”
Twelve minutes later, we walked through my apartment door. It took me more than a moment to catch my breath. Everything was clean and neatly organized like never before. The walls were restored and painted a soft pistachio color, an expensive Persian rug unfolded under a cherry wood coffee table, a velvety chocolate couch was still in its wrap, the cupboards were painted a deep burgundy with brass handles, and the bookshelves… the bookshelves were lined with my books, many of which were replaced with identical copies.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Jonas, but you didn’t have to do all this. I won’t be staying here long.”
“The least I could do,” he said. “And maybe you’ll reconsider leaving. In any case, I paid your lease up front for a year. This place will be waiting for your return even if you go.”
I stared at him, more and more perplexed as the seconds passed.
“You’re mad at me,” he said. “You think I overstepped.”
“No
. I just don’t know what to make of you.”
He passed his hand over his wet blond hair made spikey by rain and humidity. “That’s okay. I don’t know what to make of me either.”
The pantry had been completely stocked. I smiled as I appreciated every single item before I took out a box of black chai.
“Would you like some tea?” I asked Winter.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
I poured Evian water into two cups and set the microwave timer.
“By the way, I told the police I’d asked you to keep an eye on my apartment,” I said. “You’re off the suspect list.”
“That’s good to know.”
I opened the breadbox which contained two loaves of bakery bread.
The microwave buzzer meant the water was ready. I plopped the tea bags in the cups and handed one to Winter.
“Merci, Sophie,” he said.
“This is so civilized,” I said as we were about to have tea for two.
“You don’t think me capable of civility,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“You can be a total brute at times.”
“Dimitri,” he said, becoming somber. “I lost my temper after that. I’m truly sorry. None of that was your fault.”
I nodded, not wanting to talk about those things.
We sipped our chai latte. The silence hung between us.
He set his cup down and gazed into my eyes. “Luna, I can agree that Chaos came through for us. You must never forget that he can turn on you faster than you can spell boo. His agenda, if he even knows it, is so convoluted, so misguided and self-centered that you could never even hope to guess and if you did, it would change the very next day. Trust me, I learned the hard way.”
“He was your friend.”
Winter rubbed his chin. “I was his mentor.”
My jaw dropped so hard I had to push it back up.
“At the Umbra Order after he escaped Horror. I helped him become a Shadow Warrior. In part, I am responsible for what he’s become.”
It was all beginning to make some sense. “The student spurns the teacher?”
“Like I said, his reasons, his causes, are too convoluted to make any sense of them outside of his own twisted mind.”
“Why did you help him?”
“I thought he could change, but his damage is too deep.”
I nodded.
“He will come back for you and when it happens, I’d like to be close.”
A cold shiver ran down the length of my spine. The certainty of his prediction was hard to refute.
“I get it, Jonas, but I can’t let Chaos or Horror or Düsternis dictate my life.”
“Or me,” he said, pensively. “I get it.”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point. If I hide, it I stop living my life the way I want, then they win already, and I cease to be me.”
“I’m going to tell you a final thing and then go. I see the unconquerable spirit in you, and I respect it. Despite my brusque manner, I would not bother if I did not think you worth the trouble.”
He got up, glanced about the room proudly. “You have terrible taste in furniture,” he said. “I hope you enjoy the new décor.”
“Jonas, stay.”
Am I losing my mind?
He furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not.”
He stroked my cheek, his fingers sliding into my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck.
“I’m not a gentle man.”
“Of that, I’m sure.”
He locked his fingers with mine and pulled me to my feet. Our eyes locked for a few excruciating seconds and then his lips crushed on mine.
I felt shaken to my core, unable to respond to his kiss, my arms dangling at my sides, helplessly.
His tongue pressed my lips open, searching for my tongue. Oh.My.God. Nothing tasted better than him. He was sweet and sour, lemon popsicles and chocolate fudge. He was a feast for all senses.
I threw my arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes. Was this another goodbye kiss? If so, it was pretty spectacular, and necessary.
Before I had a chance to fully absorb what was going on, he lifted me up, hands under my butt. My breath caught in my throat and I was left with my senses spinning.
I pushed against his chest and then got myself wrapped around him, pulling him closer. I pushed him away and then pulled him close, then pushed him away again.
“You’re nuts,” he said. “I like it.”
I opened my mouth for a snappy response, but he kissed me quiet.
What am I doing?
There was no way I could handle this man. I could draw chunks of energy from the moon and I could take castles down, but what did I know about making love to a Shadow?
Could I rule out he wasn’t working on his agenda still, perhaps without even realizing it? He was probably doing his best to keep me in San Diego and for a moment or two I fell for it, and why? Because he had mesmerizing eyes and a hypnotizing voice? Because every pore on his skin screamed strength? What about his grief over his child? Was that over? What were sixty-five years to a three-thousand-year-old man? Sixty-five years was like yesterday to him. Could I handle his temper? His violence? Was I ready for any of that?
No, of course not, this was all kinds of wrong.
“Winter,” I said, breathless. “This is too much too fast.”
He dropped his head, held on for a moment and then released me with a growl. “Did I do something wrong?”
I shook my head. “It’s all too much, you know?”
“I can stay to watch over you,” he said. “I can sleep on the couch.”
That would be a terrible idea. The whole world was still spinning on its axis, my fingers aching to touch him again.
“I need time to process everything,” I said. “Touch base tomorrow?”
He nodded, kissed my hand and vanished into the rain.
CHAPTER 24
____________________________________
Gram set her suitcase down. She took in every detail of the neatly organized studio apartment.
“Sophie, your place looks wonderful, so cozy and inviting. You’ve done a great job, sweetie.”
If only, Gram. I took her coat to hang in the closet.
“So, next Wednesday is the big day,” she said. “Wish we had more time.”
“Thursday,” I corrected her. “Two o’clock in the afternoon.”
“That’s good. You’ll have the morning to get ready for your flight.”
I set a plate of cookies and pastries out with a jug of lemon iced tea.
“I have someone here I think you’d like to see,” Gram said.
She unzipped her handbag. Nanya lifted her little head slowly out of the bag and then leapt off onto Gram’s lap.
“You brought the borgo?” I said, not quite believing my eyes.
“The word was she missed me and I missed the little fluff, too. I thought we deserved a trip together.”
I petted Nanya under the chin. She loved that. She stretched her tiny legs and rolled onto her back, granting me access to her belly.
“Look at that,” Gram said. “She knows you.”
“Of course she does, I took her home, remember?”
Gram smiled happily. “Will you visit for Easter, Sophie?”
“We’ll see, Gram. I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t forget to pack warm clothes, honey.”
Gram’s mother hen instincts were out in full force.
I grinned. “No, Gram, I’ll just take my tank tops and bikinis.”
The doorbell rang. I got up to answer the door, still looking back at Grandma and her mildly dismissing look. Her face went rigid as I opened the door casually, her eyes widening.
I turned. Winter stood inside the doorframe, looking dapper in a light blue suit and white collared shirt, big smile on his face.
“May I come in for a moment?” he said.
I hesitated. “Sure, come on in.”
He marched straight to Grandma. “Iris Van Lanen,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “A great pleasure. As always.”
Grandma blushed. “Magistrate Winter, aren’t you gallant as ever? What brings you to my granddaughter’s doorstep? Good news, I hope.”
She had punched the granddaughter part, marking her territory.
“It is my duty and honor to keep Sophie safe,” Winter assured her.
Gram arched her eyebrows. “Your duty? Is it not our debt?”
“The debt passed down from your ancestor has been repaid in full. I am now the one who is indebted to you lovely ladies.”
Winter turned his attention to Nanya who sat quietly in Gram’s lap.
“A borgo,” he said. “How peculiar. I didn’t know they still existed.”
“Thanks to the care they’ve received in the Deep Down nursery,” Gram informed him. “You see, the witch kind are the bearers of life and guardians of all living things. Your kind should take a page from us.”
Gram was lecturing the Shadow Warrior.
Precious, Gram, just precious.
“I have always respected your candor, Iris.”
“Magistrate, you have always been a gentleman, showing good intentions towards our family. Yet, when Sophie visited for the holidays, she was quite upset over a fallout you two had. She felt you had deceived her. I trust you will not make her feel that way again.”
Somebody kill me now.
“Gram,” I said. “That’s overstepping. I’m an adult.”
Winter grinned. “Not at all, she has every right, Sophie. And, Iris, I can promise you, I will not dare displease Sophie again. She can be as intimidating as her grandmother.”
What an ass kisser.
“Okay then,” Gram said. “I’ll freshen up so you two can talk.”
Gram took her bag to the bathroom and closed the door. Water started running in the tub.
Winter put his hands in his pockets. He glanced at me sideways as if he had something to say but wasn't quite sure how to begin. Well, if he came here hoping for the hot action he didn’t get last night, it wasn’t happening.
“Maybe we can talk later?” I told him. “Gram’s just got here, and we have some girl time to catch up on.”
Winter (Mist Riders Book 2) Page 18
