A Fistful of Frost: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Madison Fox Adventure Book 3)

by Rebecca Chastain

  The contained strength of his hands encasing me, the feel of his muscles moving beneath his shirt, the brush of his leg against mine, my chest against his—each touch sparked a fresh zing of pleasure, soothing the agitation of today’s purity tests. My frazzled soul settled into my body, calmed by unmoderated joy.

  What we danced wasn’t the salsa, but it fit the beat and we moved together in harmony. It didn’t take long for the marginal gap between us to disappear, Alex’s leg sliding between mine, our bodies rubbing deliciously against each other. I wished I’d gone braless. I wished I wasn’t clothed at all and we were somewhere private.

  Alex’s left hand slid down the center of my back to splay across the top of my butt, his right hand gliding up my spine to hold me close. Guilt fired a warning shot through my pleasure, the sharp stab of the day’s unpleasant realities attempting to usurp my joy. My pooka was out of control and up to untold evil. Brad was furious with me. Pamela likely plotted additional tortures to inflict on me. I should be—

  I crushed all the should thoughts, locked them up with my guilt, and sank back into the dance with renewed vigor, writhing against Alex. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the consequences of my actions. Tonight, I would enjoy myself.

  Playing my fingers through the hair at the nape of Alex’s neck, I pressed my lips to his jaw, and his hands tightened around me. A gentle tug on the back of his neck brought his lips to mine, and the molten heat of his kiss blazed straight to my core.

  The next kiss set me on fire.

  A tiny voice cautioned me to slow down, but Alex’s tongue swept across mine, and I wriggled closer, squeezing his thigh between mine. I clutched his biceps for balance, enjoying the way they flexed beneath my hands, the round muscles filling my grip. Beneath his conservative clothing lay a well-toned body, and I was eager for the full reveal.

  Without breaking the kiss, Alex’s hands slid back to my waist, holding me in place as he eased back. I curled my fingers into his shoulders, straining to close the gap between us. His second step separated us completely.

  “Come on.” Alex grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor. He angled for a table at the edge of the club, pulling me close once we were free of the crowd.

  “I think we were getting in peoples’ way,” he said.

  He had the sexiest lips, the kind I wanted to sink my teeth into.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, pulling a chair out for me.

  I ignored the chair and his offer, leaning up against the wall next to the table and beckoning him closer. He smiled but shook his head.

  “Madison . . .”

  I dropped my gaze down to his pants—mmm, yes—then peeked at him through lowered lashes. Normally I would have asked for a glass of wine, then attempted to talk to Alex above the pounding music. I would have taken it slow. But the purity tests and the bond had sheared the brakes off my usual restraint, exposing a wild energy I had no desire to curtail. I felt free and uninhibited and deliciously sexy. I didn’t want to lose this feeling. Not quite yet.

  Taking Alex’s hand from the back of the chair, I drew him to me. My first kiss was soft, teasing. So was the next. On the third, I nipped his bottom lip, eliciting a satisfying groan. Alex caged me against the wall, leaving just enough space between us for his hands to glide down my slinky top, teasing over my nipples. I gasped, but he’d already moved to my stomach, his light touches inducing a shiver through my abdomen.

  I slid a hand down the front of his shirt, past his belt, to glide down the hard length of him pressed against the front of his slacks. He growled, the primal sound completely at odds with his buttoned-down presentation, and it sent a thrill through me. My free hand fumbled for his belt.

  Alex jerked to shackle my wrists, and he pinned them to the wall at my sides. His body crowded mine, and I strained against his strength, enjoying being caught.

  “Madison.” My name, uttered in a tone that bridged prayer and reproach, brought my eyes open. In the dim light, Alex’s blue eyes glimmered a few shades lighter than black. Passion suffused his features, but when he leaned closer to me again, it was to rest his forehead on mine, not to kiss me.

  I stared at him from too close, air gusting from me in choppy pants. My body hummed, supercharged and ready. He wanted me; I wanted him. What was the holdup?

  The tempo of the music changed, vibrating against my spine through the wall. I blinked. The sound overwhelmed the pounding of my heart, the individual notes coming back into focus. From the corner of my eye, I caught flashes of hands and legs and feet—dancers. People. A lot of them. I’d completely forgotten we were in a dance club, and the dose of reality splashed cold water on my libido.

  “Whoa. That got a little out of hand,” I said, making no move to free myself.

  Alex chuckled, the sound rueful. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m not usually into exhibitionism.” He lifted his head, and cool air rushed between us.

  “Me neither.” Making the most of my stolen evening of freedom was one thing; having sex up against the wall of a dance club was entirely too far. “I think I need a moment to, ah, cool down. I’ll be right back.”

  I squeezed Alex’s hand and smiled to show him I wasn’t upset. He tugged the hem of my top down to cover my exposed stomach and pointed the way to the restrooms.

  With each step away from him, my hormones settled and reality crept back in. My gaze snagged on the bartender’s, and her wink ignited a slow blush from my clavicle to my hairline. How much had she seen? How much had any of the dozens of people in the club seen?

  I wished I could chalk up my actions to raw chemistry, but I knew the answer was more closely linked to my problems than my attraction to Alex. I’d been so intent on distracting myself that I hadn’t noticed when I’d crossed the line from rebellious to reckless. Thankfully Alex had maintained a clear enough head to stop us.

  Oh God, what must he think of me now?

  I started to turn to check his expression when Pamela emerged from the shadows, her short frame and shock of red hair unmistakable even in the dim light. Without saying a word, she grabbed my forearm and propelled me down the black-walled hallway to the bathroom.

  The inspector gave me a shove, sending me stumbling through the bathroom doorway. She followed on my heels, and I retreated deeper into the tiny room. Both stalls were empty, but a middle-aged woman stood at the sink, washing her hands. At my clumsy entrance, she looked up, her gaze sliding between me and Pamela, lips thinning in disapproval.

  “Out,” Pamela barked.

  The woman arched an eyebrow and snorted. She leaned into the mirror and touched up her lipstick, then made a point of thoroughly drying her hands before sauntering out. I used the time to straighten my clothing and run my fingers through my mussed hair.

  A cold wash of panic had flooded my limbs the moment I’d recognized Pamela, followed closely by a wave of guilt. I’d blown off work to go dancing. I’d known Pamela could track me—a part of me had expected it. I simply hadn’t cared.

  I tried to summon that indifference now, but shame overwhelmed it. My behavior had been childish and petty, only I’d been too ground down by the jittery energy of the bond and the disjointed effects of repeated purity tests to see it earlier.

  My responsibilities crashed back to my shoulders, twice as heavy for having been cast aside for a few hours. I had a duty to my region, and whether they knew it or not, a lot of people counted on me to show up to fight evil, even on days or nights when I’d rather be doing anything else. More important, I had Jamie counting on me to save him from himself. He might not see it that way, but he needed rescuing before his damn prophecy came true.

  I took a deep breath, formulating my apology. I’d need time to extract myself from this date. I wouldn’t walk out on Alex, not without a believable explanation. He didn’t deserve that, and I didn’t want to ruin the good thing we had going. But afterward, I would strap on my weapons and get back to work.

  “I
nspector, I’m—”

  “No. You don’t get to talk. Make a net.”

  My teeth clicked shut. Releasing a slow breath, I tried again. “Look, I didn’t mean—”

  A knife appeared in Pamela’s fist, and she brandished it at me. I scrambled backward, slamming against the counter.

  “Make a net. Now.” Her tone, her body language, and her expression all said the same thing: She was prepared to use the knife. She’d been acting as if she thought I’d attack her all day, though earlier she’d only been prepared to restrain me with handcuffs. Apparently she’d upgraded my threat level.

  Raising pacifying hands, I swelled a net over my heart.

  “I’m clean. I swear.”

  “We’ll see.”

  My jaw locked, I concentrated on taking deep breaths, doing my best to suppress my rising anger. I’d given Pamela reason to be suspicious of me. I hadn’t exactly been acting like myself. Nevertheless, fury simmered through my contrition.

  Resting the knife against my chest, the blade aimed at my throat, Pamela shoved her hands into my net. A corresponding convulsion jangled through my soul. One surge of Pamela’s lux lucis through me undid an hour of Alex’s restorative touches.

  “You’re clean.” She slid her knife back into the sheath at her hip.

  My soul writhed with the heebie-jeebie aftereffect of the test, sifting my anger to the surface and burying my half-formulated apology. I didn’t bother to chafe my skin, knowing from experience that it wouldn’t chase away the crawling sensation.

  “I don’t know how you expect us to trust you after this,” Pamela said. “You’re acting like you’re under the pooka’s influence—erratic and irrational. Or maybe you’re simply lazy and selfish.”

  I jerked as the barb struck home. Calling in sick tonight had been pure selfishness, never mind that I’d been working myself ragged up until I made the call.

  “You’re a disgrace to illuminant enforcers,” Pamela continued in the same flat, disappointed tone that worked like acid on my emotions. “You’re doing your pooka no favors. All this unsupervised time will lead to nothing good. Now say good-bye to your date. You’re coming with me.” She gripped the handle and turned to open the door. “It’s too bad you didn’t stop to think about how your actions would reflect on your warden, especially at this juncture in his career.”

  I would have borne her censure for my bad decisions, and I could have swallowed being treated like a child, but her off-the-cuff comment about making Brad look bad was the final straw. I slammed a hand onto the door above her and leaned on it. The door slapped shut, jerking Pamela off center. I loomed over the shorter woman.

  “No.”

  Pamela let go of the handle and backed up a step. She had years of training and experience fighting far more dangerous threats than me. Her subtle retreat wasn’t a sign of intimidation; it’d freed up room for her to reach for the knife at her waist.

  “No?” she asked.

  “You don’t get to pretend like anything I’ve done is the reason you’re not giving Brad more territory—and I know that’s what you were insinuating,” I added when she tried to get a word in. “You were never planning on expanding our region. You’ve been trying to strong-arm Doris into that warden position since before you met me. So, no, don’t try to pin that guilt on me.”

  “You definitely haven’t done anything to change my mind.”

  I scoffed. “Have you found the tyv?”

  “Your pooka is still hiding it.”

  “Fine. Call me if she shows up. Otherwise, I think you can handle doing nothing tonight without this lazy, selfish, untrustworthy disgrace of an enforcer.” I yanked open the door, forcing Pamela to dance back or be struck. My heart pounded against my rib cage, my own brashness frightening me, but it took all my willpower to remain civil and I had nothing left for such trivial concerns as whether or not I had just set a torch to my career. “Don’t bother coming by my house tonight. That was the last purity test you’ll subject me to.”

  I stormed out of the bathroom, heels pounding loud enough to pierce the blare of salsa music. I didn’t look back until I’d reached the end of the hallway. Pamela remained in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, expression pinched.

  Let her stew. I was done with her insults and her guilt trip.

  Alex stood by the same table, expecting me to return refreshed and flirty. I plastered on a smile and put sway into my hips, but anticipation of Pamela grabbing my arm and dragging me outside made my movements stilted. When I reached the table unmolested, I scanned the club. The inspector skulked near the bar, not sitting but not approaching me, either.

  “Let’s dance!” My forced enthusiasm sounded more sincere shouted over the music, and Alex’s wary expression turned my smile genuine. “Just dancing. I swear I won’t jump you.”

  “Not that I’m opposed to being jumped,” Alex said, reaching for my hand.

  “But you prefer to be jumped in private,” I said, finishing the thought for him. I added a wink. “Good to know.”

  Alex laughed and trailed me to the dance floor.

  We danced. Not the salsa, but some bastard version of it, holding hands and going with the beat. I tried to regain my earlier enthusiasm, but Pamela’s glare ate through my joy. Even after she left a few songs later, my carefree attitude remained elusive, my libido dampened. Alex’s touch had lost its restorative properties, and my lux lucis fluctuated beneath my skin in crawling echoes of the purity test.

  Pamela had sucked all the rebellious delight out of the evening, leaving me with a mass of worries. How badly had I screwed up? What repercussions would I face tomorrow? If I lost control of Jamie, the odds of being fired skyrocketed. The last several days had been terrible, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want my job.

  Thinking of Jamie in terms of my employment set a knot in my stomach. He was more than a means to a job for me. He was my pooka and I loved him.

  I glanced around the club, unconsciously looking for him. Where was the pooka right now? Was he safe? Was he warm? Was he helping the tyv destroy my region?

  “Are you okay?” Alex asked, leaning close so I could hear him over the music.

  I started to nod, but when I realized how hard I had to work to force a smile, I changed my mind.

  “I think I’m more tired than I realized. Mind if we leave?”

  We collected our coats and exited into the freezing night. The Volvo’s icy leather seats against my bare thighs sent shivers rattling through me, and Alex cranked up the heat. According to the clock on the dashboard, we’d been out barely three hours. I was such a lame date.

  Alex drove back to my place in silence. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, trying to read his mind. He didn’t look irritated by my mercurial moods, but he could have been hiding it. When he pulled into an uncovered parking space in front of my apartment building, he put the car in park and let it idle. The heater churned out a steady wave of warmth, and my shivers finally subsided.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “For tonight. I—” How to explain without sounding crazy? “It’s just I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I thought dancing would take my mind off everything. And it did,” I hastened to add. “For a while. But I just—”

  Alex captured my fluttering hand, and I stilled.

  “Hey, I had fun.” He held my gaze, letting me see his earnestness.

  The corner of my lips kicked up. “So did I.”

  Alex shifted his grip, his warm fingers stroking my palm before he brought it to his lips for a soft kiss. My jumbled thoughts unraveled and quieted.

  “Then I think we had a successful date,” Alex pronounced.

  I leaned across the console and he met me halfway for a chaste kiss. A hum of pleasure sparked along my nerve endings, but after several minutes of awkward contortions around the clunky console, we pulled apart.

  Staring into his lust-darkened eyes, I considered inviting Alex up to m
y apartment. I wanted him almost as much as I yearned to recapture the devil-may-care attitude I’d enjoyed before Pamela’s interruption.

  I let out my breath in a long exhale, leaving the invitation unspoken. My first time with Alex should be more meaningful than an excuse not to think about my problems.

  “This stress. Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked.

  I shook my head, picturing the disaster of trying to explain soul-sucking evil creatures to Alex, let alone a half-evil shape-changing pooka I’d lost control of.

  For a second I thought he might have been disappointed by my response. Or maybe relieved. The dim light made it hard to read his fleeting expression.

  “I’m glad you called me tonight,” Alex said.

  “Me too.”

  I kissed him again, a quick good-bye kiss, and slid out of the car. A gust of cold air twined icy fingers around my bare legs, and I shuddered. Stuffing my hands into my coat pockets, I scurried up the walkway to the stairs, pausing long enough to toss Alex a wave as he backed out of the parking space.

  Stomping up the stairs alone, I shook my head at myself. I was an idiot. I should have invited Alex up. We could have talked and made out. Sex didn’t have to be on the agenda.

  But sex would have been nice.

  I scanned the sky and parking lot in Primordium, then blinked to normal sight when I saw no trace of Jamie. Where was he? The bond tangled with my emotions, stretching and sharpening them. Sleeping tonight would be difficult. Maybe I shouldn’t bother to try. I could change and hunt tyver and make everyone happy. It’d be better than tossing and turning all night.

  The fact that my thighs burned with fatigue and my knees wobbled rubbery and weak when I made it to the third-floor landing made me rethink my plans. Maybe if I took a sleep aid and achieved real rest, everything would look better in the morning. Maybe sleep would help heal my sore body and aching heart.

  I shoved the key into the lock with unnecessary force, irritated that my decision to take care of myself had been accompanied by a dose of bond-enhanced guilt. The door required an extra push and opened with the soft sound of cloth rubbing on metal. My hand reached for the light switch on auto-pilot even as I realized the apartment was already lit. A white tube lined the inner doorway from floor to lintel, a new addition since I’d left. Had Jamie . . . ?