Frost (Midnight Ice Book One)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Pandora whipped around lightning fast, flashing her fangs. "I bite."

  The man smiled, lips practically dripping with sin. "Me too."

  Normally, this was when she'd punch and run. Seduction wasn't really her thing. It just made her think of another boy and another time she'd never get back. But tonight was different. Tonight she wanted to be free. Tonight she was determined to move on, to move forward.

  So she grinned back, taking the stranger in. And really, a girl could do worse, much worse. He was tall, broad, with bright golden hair that seemed almost aflame in the darkness of the club. His vampire-blue eyes were just as bright as hers, flashing with unabashed hunger, brazen want. His skin, though, was what really caught her eye. It was sun-kissed and bronzed, not pallid, not washed out by his ebony shirt. Somehow he looked almost warm to the touch.

  Before she could stop herself, Pandora lifted her fingers, stretching for the triangle of hard skin at the base of his throat, exposed between two sets of open buttons.

  He stepped swiftly to the side.

  The darkness seemed to follow, wisps of ebony clinging to his frame, undulating with his every movement.

  "Not yet," he murmured, never once taking his eyes off her.

  The longer he held her gaze, the more familiar it seemed to become, as though she'd seen those eyes before, as though this wasn't the first time they had caressed her body.

  "Have we met?" she asked.

  His smile deepened, filling with secrets she could tell he had no intention of spilling. "Not like this."

  "Like what then?"

  But he looked away without answering, sweeping his stare down to her lips, to every inch of exposed skin, lifting back to her throat, pausing there. She didn't move. There was a dangerous sort of confidence about him, but against her will, she found it alluring, intriguing in a forbidden way. She'd always been drawn to things she wasn't supposed to have. Usually, she took them anyway.

  She reached out again, trying to touch him.

  He moved deftly away, almost made of air as he circled behind her.

  "Pandora," he whispered into her ear, breath like a kiss against the soft skin of her neck, making her shiver.

  And then the word he spoke registered.

  Her name.

  He knew her name.

  "How…?" She spun around, trailing off when she realized there was nothing there, no one there.

  A ghostly finger brushed against her elbow, tracing a burning path up her arm. "You're not the only one who knows how to disappear."

  Pandora spun again.

  But he was gone.

  That's my trick, she thought, annoyed, trying to mask the shiver racing down her spine, trying to ignore it. Because she couldn't quite tell if it was desire or fear—and to be honest, neither option sounded appealing at the moment.

  Pandora stole a drink from a nearby table, not caring what sort of blood was inside as she took a deep gulp, shaking off the strange encounter, trying to get lost in the music once more.

  When another vamp sidled up next to her, snaking a hand around her waist, Pandora hissed, flashing her eyes in warning. One more move and she’d bite. Because sometimes, all a girl really wanted, especially on her birthday, was to dance like no one was watching and to be left the hell alone.

  Chapter Four

  They all look so elegant, Pandora thought, staring across the street at the line of men in tuxedos and women in sparkling gowns exiting their limos, making their way toward Tatsuya’s charity ball.

  And I… Pandora looked down, taking in her standard high-stakes heist outfit. Leather jacket. Black gloves. Knee-high boots. Onyx leggings with just enough shimmer to look like liquid covering her long limbs. And, of course, a high bun that held her coiling honey-blonde hair into a weave so tight no running, fighting, or jumping would undo it. I look like Spy Barbie.

  But the thought just brought a grin to her face. Excellent.

  She was in the zone.

  And no visit from the past was going to distract her now.

  It was time to focus.

  Pandora walked across the street, completely invisible to the taxicabs and limo drivers stopped in a gridlock, waiting for the light to turn green. The shadows were wrapped tightly around her, keeping Pandora safe from any watching eyes. The humans, of course, would just wonder what the heck a girl dressed like a biker chick was doing walking into a black-tie affair. But the vampires and any other supernatural creatures in attendance would know better. They’d smell the immortality on her skin.

  So she kept out of sight as she made her way through the crowd, unable to stop herself from noticing all the diamonds glittering in the streetlights. Her fingers twitched. But no—she'd restrain herself. Those jewels weren't her mark. And besides, she wasn't a common thief taking from everyone, just the people who deserved it. Like Tatsuya.

  Speaking of…

  Pandora's gaze followed the red carpet trailing up the grand front steps of the building. There he was. Tatsuya. The man of the evening—or should she say vamp of the evening. Pandora had never seen him face-to-face before, but she'd heard enough. The head vamp of New York was unmistakable. With him wearing an ebony tuxedo in a sea of black-tie attire, his crisp white shirt, secured with a bow tie, only served to highlight the otherworldliness of his pristine ivory skin and trademark silver hair. His eyes were just as blue as any vampire's, but there was a wisdom within them that hinted at his age, a number Pandora couldn't even begin to guess. He shook the hands of all his guests, greeting them right as they stepped through the front door—eyes hard, smile soft enough to hide his true nature, from the humans at least. But Tatsuya was the head vampire of one of the most important cities in the world. There was no mistaking his power, his authority. It practically oozed from his cold, dead pores.

  Pandora drew the shadows closer, closing her mouth, not breathing, steeling her muscles so the chill covered any ounce of life. When she was sure she was completely undetectable, she mounted the grand staircase leading into the building, walking directly behind a human woman in a wide ball gown, using the rustling tulle as a cover for the ever-so-soft sound of her feet. The woman and her husband paused at the top of the steps as Tatsuya reached a hand out to greet them.

  Pandora remained calm, remained perfectly still.

  The vamp bent down to kiss the woman's palm, and for just a moment, his gaze flicked to the empty space where Pandora stood invisible, narrowing so fast only vampiric eyes would ever notice. By the time he stood, the warm smile was back on his lips, as though nothing had even happened. A server with glasses of champagne stepped toward the couple, ushering them into the room with a complimentary drink.

  Pandora raced inside.

  Close call.

  Too close.

  Did he see her? Sense her?

  Did he know she was here?

  He'd probably heard something—the shift of her foot on the carpet, the brush of her leather sleeve against the edge of her pants. Just enough to catch his attention, but not enough to convince him she was really there, not enough to make him cause a scene in front of an entire line of guests.

  Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore. She was in. But just when Pandora was about to get to business, a scent filtered into her nose. Blood. Sweet blood. Blood that smelled of sunshine and fire and power too alluring to ignore.

  Conduits.

  Where?

  Pandora spun, stepping back against the wall, making herself as small as possible. Out of sight and out of the way, she scanned the room, searching for the last supernatural she ever thought she would find at Tatsuya's event. Conduits were the mortal enemies of vampires—the only supernatural beings in the world who could kill them. They weren't strong or fast or unbreakable, but they could do one thing, one very powerful thing.

  Conduits could channel the power of the sun.

  From where the sun rested in space, its heat wasn’t strong enough to be fatal. Vamps could walk just fine through broad daylight,
feeling hardly more than a light sting as the rays hit their skin. But conduits could funnel that fire through their bodies, bringing the scorching heat millions of miles closer to Earth as they spewed flames from their hands that could burn vamps to a very fatal crisp. Aside from a conduit, the only thing in the world that could kill a vampire was another vamp, but even that was tough. Pandora could sink her fangs or nails into another vamp, slicing open their skin in a way nothing else could. But the only way for one vampire to truly kill another vampire was decapitation. They healed too fast for anything else to be truly lethal.

  Which begged the question, why in the world were conduits here? At an event hosted by the most powerful vamp in the city, attended by all his high lords and a ton of other super-strong bloodsuckers? Were they really so brazen, so bold? They were outnumbered fifty to one. And even a conduit wasn’t strong enough to beat those odds—the fire could only burn so many vamps at once, and without that power, they were barely stronger than humans.

  They were vulnerable.

  "Why are they all looking at us like we're food?" a deep male voice whispered. Pandora honed in on the sound, trying to locate the conduit blood she smelled, trying to see these enemies in her midst.

  "Because to them, we are food," a girl responded, tone laced with mock annoyance.

  There.

  Pandora spotted them standing to the side of the dance floor. The man was tall, decently good looking with a slightly crooked nose, maybe in his midtwenties. At the sight of his shimmery blond hair, she released a sigh of relief. There were two species of conduits—protectors and punishers. Blond conduits were protectors, which meant their fire wasn't meant to kill a vampire, only to contain one long enough for whoever they were protecting to escape. The red-haired conduits were the ones to fear—the punishers. Their fire was fatal.

  Luckily, the girl standing next to the protector boy had the same bright blond hair that seemed fused with light. She was shorter, eyes a little more calculating as they surveyed the room. Even from this distance, Pandora could see the flames dancing at the edges of her evergreen irises, as undeniable a supernatural trait as a vampire's crystal-blue ones.

  Conduits.

  Here.

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  And not even punisher conduits, who could do some serious damage to all the nasty bloodsuckers in this room—myself excluded, of course. But protectors. And pretty freaking brave ones at that to come into this lion's den, outnumbered like this.

  Did Tatsuya know?

  He had to.

  Had he invited them?

  Pandora knew she should turn away, start searching for the auction items before the event really began, steal the sword, hunt for information, survey his security, and get one last look at her adversary Tatsuya, leaving before anyone was any wiser. But for some reason, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the pair with sun-kissed skin that smelled of warmth and light. They'd moved into the center of the dance floor, brazenly spinning in graceful circles, not caring whose attention they drew. Glancing around, Pandora realized she wasn't the only vampire watching. She was, however, the only vampire watching whose eyes weren't glowing with cerulean hunger.

  Ballsy, she thought appreciatively.

  Those conduits knew exactly what they were doing. And clearly, they didn’t care. The girl laughed in the boy's arms, arcing back. He watched her every move, drinking her in the way only a man in love would, as though he was staring at perfection. They twirled in step, smiling at each other as her green skirts swished against his black tuxedo. Pandora watched on as an intruder in the shadows, a voyeur wishing to live vicariously for a moment. Because in all her life, there had only been one time a man had watched her so carefully, so freely, so lovingly.

  Jax, she thought wistfully, allowing herself one moment of weakness to remember his soft, sea-glass eyes. He used to look at her as if she were the only person in the world, the only person who mattered. And behind her closed eyes, four years disappeared in an instant as she recalled the nights they'd spent in their hideout, away from their responsibilities and futures. He'd looked at her like that all the time, but most often while he strummed an old wooden guitar and softly sang words he'd written just for her.

  "Excuse me."

  Punched out of the moment, Pandora snapped her eyes open. But the voice wasn't speaking to her—thank god. She was still hidden, still wrapped in shadows. The words had been spoken to the two conduits, who'd stopped dancing to speak to a prim and proper vampire who reeked of subservience.

  "Your master needs us?" the girl asked.

  There was only one master here. Tatsuya.

  That's my cue, Pandora thought, pushing off the wall and weaving through the crowd, following the odd threesome to the back of the ballroom where Tatsuya waited, silver hair glistening.

  This was what she’d been hoping for—some time alone to observe the head vamp, probe for weaknesses, and try to figure out what exactly his special power was. Most vamps had them—abilities above and beyond the normal vamp strength and speed, powers like Pandora’s own invisibility. But head vamps always had the strongest abilities of all—it was what gave them their status, what made them too dangerous to cross. Rumor was, Tatsuya could force even the most resilient vamp to bend to his will, but she knew better than to believe in rumors. She wanted to see his strengths and weaknesses with her own two eyes before figuring out a course of action.

  So when Tatsuya slipped open a door Pandora hadn’t previously noticed, one made to blend into the wall, it was a no-brainer to follow. She jumped through after the head vamp and the conduits, sneaking by just before the opening slammed closed. They were in the staging area where all the items for the auction had been set up. Boxes lined the simple space, which was completely different from the gaudy, gilded ballroom on the other side of the door.

  "This is the item I hired the thief to steal," Tatsuya said, voice calm and calculating.

  Pandora halted dead in her tracks.

  The item he hired the thief to steal?

  But she was stealing from Tatsuya. Why would he hire her to steal from himself? Why—

  It’s a trap, she realized, eyes going wide, surveying the room for other conduits or other vampires, any clue that she was being ambushed right then and there. Does he know I'm not just a thief? Does he know what happened in DC and LA? Does he know what I'm really after—freeing all the innocent people I know he has trapped?

  But the room was free of heartbeats, free of cold bodies. There was no one else here—no secret team of vamps meant to trap her. Just the conduits and Tatsuya and Pandora shrouded in her shadows.

  "Is that a samurai sword?" the male conduit asked, voice colored with disbelief, drawing Pandora's attention back to the little meeting happening a few yards away.

  They don't know I'm here. They can't.

  She crouched down just in case, leaning onto the balls of her feet, ready to jump and run at any moment.

  But Tatsuya's response was nothing but bored. "The correct term is katana, but yes, and a very ancient one at that, from my private collection. Is there a problem?"

  "Of course not," the boy responded, swallowing a gulp that was quite audible to a vampire's ears. "It's just that I was envisioning a necklace, a ring, maybe a nice broach. Not a deadly weapon I've only ever seen in comic books but am pretty convinced could chop my head off with one clean slice."

  Pandora rolled her eyes.

  But in reality, it was a little hard to believe that conduits, who were little more than humans with some mega fire-wielding skills, were the only beings in the world who could bring a vamp down. Especially when Pandora had grown up around titans, who could do almost everything a vampire could but couldn’t kill them, couldn’t injure their impenetrable skin. Not in the same way a conduit's flames could.

  The female conduit seemed to remember that as strong as Tatsuya was, in a way she was stronger. She cocked her hip, bringing a little grin to Pandora's face with her spunky
response. "I think what Luke means to say is, why on earth would you ask the thief to steal this? He's already a vampire with the power to disappear. Did you really have to throw a sword into the mix too?"

  They think I'm a boy? Pandora thought, a little peeved. Why? Because only men can be thieves? Only men are strong enough to best a head vamp on his home turf? Yeah, right. Give me a break. This is the twenty-first century, people.

  "Hmm," Tatsuya responded, pulling Pandora out of her own head. His voice remained just as detached as before. "I'm not used to thinking of such things. My skin is unbreakable, after all."

  Not from me, she added wickedly. At that moment, a very large part of her wouldn't mind seeing him bleed, just a little, just to show him he wasn't as powerful as he believed. And the female conduit seemed to be having the same idea.

  Flames surged to life in her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Yes, well ours isn't."

  "Then I guess you'll have to work quickly," Tatsuya commented, glancing at his immaculate gold watch. Maybe I'll take that too, Pandora thought, right off your wrist. "It's almost time for my speech, and the auction begins after that. Do what you need to do and then return to the ballroom. All the items will be placed on the stage, and that's when they'll be most vulnerable."

  "And what about your public support for the cure for vampirism?" the female asked.

  Aha, Pandora silently exclaimed. That was why the conduits had agreed to help their mortal enemy—they were made to kill vampires, but they'd also been the ones who discovered the cure, discovered a way to use their flames to burn the vampirism out of a human body. Ever since the news had spread, the world of vampires and conduits had been in complete turmoil. Vamps were flocking to the conduit base in Florida, searching for their lost humanity, but there were just as many vamps eager to cut down what they saw as traitors to their own kind. Pandora had seen it herself, back when she'd been living in Washington, DC. She was at a popular blood bar when a sympathizer for the cure got into a fight with one of the high lords of the city—suffice it to say, he didn’t last long. Within minutes, he'd been stuffed into a back room, out of sight. But to every vampire in the club, the sound of his head being ripped from his body was unmistakable.