by E. Latimer
"You're an awful lot of trouble.” His voice was a low growl. "Maybe you're not worth bringing back. Maybe I'll just kill you if you don't behave."
He grasped my throat suddenly, pressing down hard on my windpipe. I scrabbled at his beefy forearms, dragging my nails across his skin. He just dug in deeper, pressed harder, until darkness crept around the edges of my vision.
My skin flashed hot and cold, pulsing with shock. Then my arms turned tingly and numb, bitterly cold. The feeling traveled from my shoulders all the way to my fingertips.
There was a gasp above me, and the hands around my throat retreated and the crushing weight on my torso was gone. I retched and gasped, sucking in deep breaths, pushing the darkness back with each gulp of air.
The fake detective staggered sideways, crashing into the hearth. He stared at his arm, his face twisted in horror. A thick sheet of ice had enveloped the limb from shoulder to fingertip.
He scratched at it, frantic, howling.
When I stumbled to my feet, still gasping, he flung himself at me. "What did you do?”
His hand clipped the side of my face, sending me backward onto the bed again, and hot pain spiked through my left temple.
I lashed out at him as he advanced, seizing his other arm. This time, the frost traveled up his arm and onto his throat at lightning speed. His mouth froze mid scream. One last puff of breath hung white in the air between us.
I held on, furious and terrified, as the cold blasted through me.
The ice traveled over his hips, down his legs. The fabric of his slacks stiffened, covered with a thin layer of frost. His face went blue, even his eyes—wide and frightened—were covered. He was totally encased.
It only took seconds.
My breath came in fast, sharp gasps. Finally, I let go and backed into the corner, staring in horror at the frozen statue at the foot of the bed. It was Adam all over again. But this time... This time, there was no chance he'd survive.
It had happened so fast. How was I supposed to have stopped it?
My back hit the wall, and slowly I slid down the length of it, collecting my knees to my chest. My thin nightgown was ripped and stretched, and a ridiculous thought crossed my mind as I stared at the statue through a veil of tears.
He ruined my nightgown. What will I sleep in now?
The tears finally came, flowing down my cheeks, onto my neck. They wouldn't stop.
I cried until it hurt, deep shuddering breaths between each sob. Hysterics—I knew about hysterics. I'd seen a kid in California have them one time in school.
Snot leaked, mixed with tears, and my head throbbed just near my left eye. I was probably already sporting a bruise. Hysterics weren’t pretty.
I couldn’t seem to stop staring at him, frozen and blue in the corner. So much like Adam. Only this time, I knew for sure.
He was dead.
Chapter Seventeen
It took about ten minutes before I had the courage to open my eyes. Of course, the horrible sight was still there. I uncurled and took a deep breath, slowly climbing to my feet. Now what should I do? I couldn't just leave the body there for housekeeping to find. I already had a bunch of people after me. Being the prime suspect in a murder case wouldn’t help matters, and I had no desire to see my face on the news again. No, that couldn't happen.
I bit my lip. There was no way I could do this alone. I needed to talk to someone, and there was only one person I trusted. I debated making the call from downstairs. Could the giants really be monitoring all outgoing and incoming calls in Grande Prairie? It didn’t seem likely. I took the chance. Taking a deep breath, I punched Charlotte's number in, promising myself I’d be brief. If someone was listening in, it would take them a minute or so to trace a call—I knew that much from the movies. Charlotte picked up on the second ring, her voice groggy with sleep. "Hello?" "Charlotte! It's me, Megan. I can't talk long, but I need your help..." I paused, reluctant to say the name of the hotel on the phone, even if I didn't really believe anyone was listening. "I'm staying here in town, at a hotel. Um...the one that was in that movie during our study date.” There was silence on the other end, and I desperately hoped she remembered the movie we'd watched. Anyone listening would think I was referring to Holiday Inn. But Charlotte knew better, I hoped.
Finally, she said, "Got it. I'll be right there."
I could have kissed her. "Just give my name to the lady at the desk and she'll call up to the room. She's on our side." I hung up, relief coursing through me. Thank god for our study session.
I waited, pacing back and forth, my heart thrumming like I'd run a marathon.
The fake detective had melted slightly, and droplets of water made a slow plick, plick, plick as they hit the hardwood floor. I tried to avoid looking at him. Every time I thought about it, my chest constricted into a tight knot and tears burned my eyes.
I was a murderer.
For months now, I'd lived with the guilt of not knowing if I'd killed Adam. I'd been such a coward, running like that. It had eaten me alive every night. And now, just when I learned he was alive...this happened.
Maybe I should be in jail—before I hurt anyone else.
The thought of seeing Erik tomorrow helped a little. I had a feeling I could tell him about this and he wouldn't judge. He wouldn’t think I was a horrible person.
I tried to convince myself it hadn’t been my fault, that it had been self-defense. He'd been choking me. He would have killed me if I hadn't struck first.
"It was an accident." My voice was startling in the silence, but I kept talking. "It'll be okay. It was just an accident. I didn't mean to. I can't control it. I'll go with Erik and he'll teach me so this never happens again." I glanced at the frozen man at the foot of the bed, and the anxiety surged again.
How do I hide a body?
I hadn't read enough murder mysteries. Was I supposed to chop it up and smuggle it out somehow?
The idea made bile rise up in my throat, and for a moment, I thought I was going to be sick. I stopped pacing and braced myself with one hand on the wall, taking deep, even breaths.
No, I was already a killer. I refused to add to the horror of this by doing something so grisly. There had to be another way.
The phone rang, and I jerked up so fast that I nearly gave myself whiplash.
Charlotte. I picked the phone up with one shaky hand, and my voice came out in a squeak. "Hello?"
"Ms. Sanders?"
After a moment of confusion I remembered I'd checked in under a fake name, and then I found my voice. "Oh, yes. Yes, hello."
"It's Jenny from the desk." Her voice was soft, almost motherly.
It made my heart ache. For a second, I entertained the ridiculous notion of asking her to take me home. Just adopt me.
Jeez, I wasn't a little kid anymore. I thought I'd gotten past all of that abandonment crap.
"There's a young woman here to see you. She says her name is Charlotte. Is she okay to come up?" Jenny said.
I could have hugged her. And Charlotte. Just a big ol' group hug. "Yes! Thank you so much. You can send her up."
"Okay, darlin'. You two take care of yourselves."
I spent the next several minutes counting the steps between the bed and the fireplace as I paced. Finally, there was a soft knock at the door, and I raced over and yanked it open.
Charlotte was there, concern plainly written on her pixie-like features. She was dressed in a bright-red coat and black boots, and she had a knapsack slung over one arm.
"Megan! Are you okay?"
To my dismay, the tears broke free of the dam again. "No!" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "This man attacked me in the middle of the night, tried to kill me... I accidentally froze him."
Charlotte's face was pale. "He—wait, you what?"
“It's a long story, and I didn’t tell you everything.” I rubbed my forehead. "The truth is, sometimes, I freeze stuff accidentally. Oh, what the hell..." I opened the door and waved her inside. "Look, you should sit down. It's conf
using."
She entered the room as if she thought someone might jump out and yell, "Surprise!"
When she saw the frozen statue at the foot of the bed, her mouth dropped open. It would have been comical if I hadn’t been so scared of what she might say.
What if she was afraid of me?
If she was anything like me, she would turn and run, and I’d never see her again.
When she turned to face me, her eyes were huge. "What happened? How—"
She faltered, and suddenly I found myself spilling the entire story. I told her everything. How I'd frozen Adam back in California, how his mother was hunting for me. The things Loki had explained, how he’d shown me I could freeze water. And about Erik, who I still wasn't sure I could trust. Finally, I ran out of breath.
I waited for her to call me a lunatic and run out, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake, but her face slowly turned from pure shock to...something different.
Her eyes sparkled. "Megan, that is so cool."
Now, it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. "Wha—Charlotte, this guy is probably dead."
"Didn't you say he was attacking you?" She stepped closer to the body, leaning forward to examine it, her hands on her hips. "Well, then…self-defense." She shot me a coy look. "My cousin is a lawyer, you know. You wouldn't believe some of the stories he tells at the dinner table.”
I rubbed my forehead, amazed at how calmly she was taking the whole thing. "What the heck do we do?"
"I still can't believe you can freeze stuff like a superhero or something. I'm so jealous!" She was distracted again, her face flushed with excitement.
"Charlotte!"
"Sorry, sorry." She bit her lip, staring at the frozen corpse. I could almost see the gears turning in her head. "Well, we don't know for sure he's dead."
I huffed, flicking a hand toward the frozen man. "I can't exactly check his pulse through the ice."
"Okay, we have to work fast." She unzipped her knapsack. “I just saw this movie where these two guys accidentally killed someone at a hotel, and they stuff him in an ice chest." She lifted her eyebrows. "I took the stairs on the way up here since some doofus loaded the elevator with his luggage. I passed an ice machine on the second floor. We could put him in there and call the cops. He's already frozen, so it won't hurt him. And no one will know it was you. If he's still kicking, they should be able to unfreeze him." She pulled a face at the frozen detective. "Though, honestly, I'm not rooting for the guy."
My mouth dropped open. Since when was Charlotte a criminal mastermind?
"But there are cameras in the hallway," I protested, "and in the elevator. How are we going to drag a body to the second floor without anyone seeing us?"
Charlotte's grin was wicked. "How cold do you think security cameras can get before they break?"
My mouth fell open again. The crazy thing was it was smart.
"That... might actually work." I shook my head. "This is a whole other side of you I'm seeing."
“Well, I think you take the prize for that tonight.” She laughed. "Anyways, I watch a lot of movies. Now, come on. Let's do this."
Chapter Eighteen
"How...how do we… Should we wrap him in something?" I tried to recall the murder mysteries I’d watched. "Like, in the shower curtain or something?"
“No. They'll notice if your curtain is missing. If it ends up wrapped around a dead body, you’ll appear on the most-wanted list." Charlotte frowned at the fake detective like he was the one to blame for the dilemma we were having.
Which, in a way…
I blinked a fresh wave of tears away, telling myself over and over that I hadn't meant to kill him. Maybe he’d be okay once they defrosted him.
"Just make sure you don't accidentally freeze him again." Charlotte didn't notice my tears, or pretended not to.
Either way, I was grateful. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
She checked her watch. "It's four thirty in the morning, so no one should be roaming the halls right now. And if they are, it's not for any decent reason. Let's grab him."
We approached cautiously, like he might suddenly unfreeze and lunge at us. For all of her brave talk, Charlotte was obviously just as uncomfortable about the whole dead body thing as I was. She hesitated, her hands hovering over the icy surface.
I took a deep breath and said, "You take the feet." It was the least I could do, considering the circumstances.
She looked relieved. I reached out, gingerly grasping his arms. The surface of his shirt was a bit slippery but not cold.
Charlotte crouched down and grabbed his feet. "Holy crap, he’s freezing!"
"Sorry.” I grabbed his arms more firmly and tilted him back so she wouldn't have to heave him up by herself.
He was heavy and awkward to hold on to, and we carried the body to the door in staggering surges, nearly dropping him a few times. Sweat broke out on my forehead and chest and we’d only moved him ten feet.
"Set him down here.” She panted.
We did, and his feet clunked heavily on the carpet, making us both wince.
She rubbed her hands on her pants, mumbling about freezing her fingers off. "Check outside. Make sure the coast is clear."
I eased the door open a crack and peered out. The hallway was long, lit by eerily humming florescent lights and decorated by plastic ferns in squat, black pots..
"See the cameras?" Charlotte whispered.
I did. They were subtle—two little, black domes at each end. "Yes."
"See if you can freeze them."
I drew in a deep breath and stuck my hands out, touching the wall on either side of the door just above the carpet, doing my best to concentrate on the camera to the right.
At first, nothing happened.
I was still wired, nervous, and trembling. So far, the ice had only shown up when I was completely freaking out. Forcing myself to think about the attack seemed to work. About the way he’d pinned me to the bed, the way his breath had smelled, his crooked teeth.
Goose bumps shivered over my arms, and the cool, tingling sensation shot down to my fingertips. There was a thin crackle as ice crawled across the wall.
I needed more fuel for the emotional fire though, so I finally let myself acknowledge the guilt burning in my stomach.
You killed a man, a nasty little voice reminded me. Seventeen years old and you killed someone. You're a murderer. What if he has a family?
My gut flipped. A thick bolt of ice shot up the wall, traveling quickly, all the way down the hallway, engulfing the little, black dome. I had absolutely no control, so I ended up freezing half the wall.
To my left, a second line of ice streaked across the wallpaper. The camera lens cracked as it froze. I slumped against the doorframe. “Done.”
"Good job!” Charlotte scrambled to her feet. “Okay, we gotta move fast now."
We navigated the rigid form through the doorway. Our attempt at “moving fast” was a joke, since we could only manage to drag him a few inches every couple seconds.
Once we were out in the open hallway, my heart began to gallop wildly, as if the rest of my body finally understood what we were about to do. We were carrying a body.
I eyed each door as we slowly passed, panicked, certain one would burst open any second now. Someone would appear in the doorway and stare at us with wide, accusing eyes.
"A body!" they would say and point at me. "You're a murderer!"
After what seemed like an eternity, we reached the elevator, and Charlotte punched the down arrow.
"Drag him to one side," she whispered. "Just in case."
My heart pulsed in my ears, drowning out the humming lights overhead. I did as instructed, stashing the body to one side. For all the good it did. If someone was in the elevator, we were screwed.
The doors whooshed open, and my breath caught in my throat. It was empty.
Charlotte pinned the door open with one hand while I froze the camera inside, careful not to lean in too far. "Let's go.
" She hefted her end of the burden, and we wrestled it onto the elevator.
My emotions were so out of control that I had to put my half of the detective down, not wanting to refreeze his body. Guilt chewed at my stomach. If I kept adding more ice layers, there would be no hope of resuscitating the man.
Charlotte stuck her hands underneath her armpits, her teeth chattering. Then she put a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture and pointed up at the frozen camera.
She was right. I could freeze the camera over, but not the sound. If we talked, they would know two girls had been in here.
