Deep Kiss of Winter

by Kresley Cole

  He knew from experience that he could have that woman with little more than a crook of his finger. Old habits rose to the fore, even as he told himself he didn’t have time for this. He needed to give his undivided focus to finding Ivo.

  But without Rurik and Lukyan, Murdoch could do nothing but wait, and he needed to slip the leash Daniela had put on him.

  If he could blunt this need, he’d be more focused, more effective. A tall brunette seemed just the thing. . . .

  “May I wear it, mama?” Danii asked. Svana had just taken her crown out of safekeeping for her upcoming trip. As ever, Danii was fascinated with it.

  “Just for a bit, dearling,” Svana told her as she placed the band of ice and diamonds atop her braided hair. Jewels dropped down over her forehead. “There. My little winter princess.”

  “I want to show the other Valkyrie.”

  “But they would be spellbound.”

  “I’m not.”

  “No, daughter.” Svana smiled as she adjusted the crown, but it was too large. “Because our kind comes from a land of diamonds and ice.”

  “Is that where you’re going now?”

  Her beautiful face had grown grave. “Yes.”

  “When will you come back?”

  Svana knelt before her. “Daniela, I might not make it back.”

  “Then why do you have to go there?” Danii asked, beginning to cry. “Just stay with me.”

  “I must reclaim my throne. I’m a queen from a long line of queens. And one day you will be, too.”

  “How will I find you?”

  “If I don’t return to you here, you must promise me, my love, never to follow me. Never, never go to Icergard. Not until you’re shown the way. . . .”

  Danii shot up in bed, awake in an instant. My gods. She’d just recollected more of that fateful day when her mother had left her. Not until I’m shown the way?

  Who exactly would be directing Danii to Icergard? And why was she only just remembering this?

  The dream had been so realistic, she could almost feel the weight of that crown on her head. Svana had worn it when she’d gone to meet her destiny, even knowing she’d likely die. How brave she’d been.

  Danii rose, feeling a pleasant jolt as her bare feet met the freezing marble, then crossed to the open window. The north wind blew with a proud gust as if embracing her. She closed her eyes, swaying with it.

  The vampire—who had yet to return—had talked of dreams. Now she’d been awash in reverie each night. Was it the cold or this particular place that drew forth her memories and dreams?

  She loved it here. The frigid winds affected her like adrenaline, each flake of snow a balm on her soul. For two weeks, she’d indulged in ice hunts, followed whispers, explored the countryside. And she’d continued to carve arcane symbols into any ice face she’d come across.

  The markings were simple in form, like the inscriptions on ancient rune stones from northern lands. She didn’t think she’d ever seen these designs before, and had no idea how she knew them.

  Eventually, she’d begun creating her own ice tablets to carve on, some as large as a table, later placing them in different parts of the forest and snowdrifts, settling them just so. She didn’t know why she did this, just felt compelled to.

  With each day here she was growing stronger, thinking more about this puzzling new pastime—and less about the vampire. Yes. Some minutes less than others. At first, she’d wondered if her carving was merely a desperate bid for distraction, like a Valkyrie/Icere equivalent of downing a gallon of Häagen-Dazs.

  But she’d concluded it must be more, because the compulsion intensified—even as her desire for him should’ve begun dwindling. . . .

  Murdoch kissed three different women that night.

  Mere minutes after spotting that first brunette, he’d found himself with her in an alley behind a bar, taking her lips with his own.

  And still he’d thought of Daniela. Ultimately, he’d broken away with a muttered curse. “Sorry, swee t. Have to go.”

  She’d clung to him, begging him not to stop. What should have excited him had wilted any arousal he might have managed by imagining it was Daniela he kissed.

  The second woman had been passable, but there’d been no distinct intelligence shining in her eyes. So different from his Bride. He admired Daniela’s tricky mind, liked the way he could rarely read her expressions.

  The third smelled of cloying perfume and whatever she’d dined on earlier. Such a contrast to Daniela’s clean scent. . . .

  Now as he thought back, he realized that not one of the three had tempted him to take her neck. Another reason he needed to stay away from Daniela. Easier said than done. He felt as if he was waging a losing battle, and in his life, he’d bloody had enough of those.

  He’d died in one.

  Why fight this? It would have to be easier to resist drinking her than to go without seeing her face again—which was proving impossible. . . .

  He pictured his Bride sleeping in his bed, as if she were awaiting him. If he were going to settle down, why not with the most exquisite, intelligent female he’d ever known? Even if she was an ice being. He recalled the supernatural scene that had greeted him at the lodge and came to a determination.

  It’d never be dull with her.

  Could the reason he’d never committed to a woman be that he’d been waiting for her all his life? He glanced at the sky. Dawn was only a couple of hours away. Too late to do much here. But it would be dark in Siberia.

  Why not try this out? If I’m ever tempted to drink from her, I’ll trace away. At least then he’d know.

  With that conclusion, he almost wished he hadn’t pursued those other women. He thought he might be feeling . . . guilt. Him.

  He spied a flower street vendor on the next corner over. Murdoch knew women—they loved flowers. He snatched up a bouquet of roses, tossed a twenty to the half-asleep vendor, then traced to Daniela.

  Again, she wasn’t inside. When he heard the front door creaking open, he traced downstairs with the bouquet behind his back. “Daniela?”

  Her lips were even bluer than before, her skin pale as milk. She had twigs in her icy hair.

  God, she’s lovely beyond words. He cast about for a compliment and came up empty. What’s new?

  She gazed at him, not with the excitement he’d anticipated, but with measured curiosity.

  “Where were you?” he asked.

  “Just got back from a walk.”

  She was barefoot in a halter top and shorts. He wondered if he’d ever get used to seeing so much of her perfect body exposed to the elements. “I hadn’t heard from you. Wanted to make sure you’re settling in.”

  She shrugged, turning toward the stairs.

  He followed her up. “I am just stopping by. To check on you.”

  “You kind of said that already. And as you can see, I’m doing great.”

  “You’ve been busy here,” he said when they reached his room. Since he’d been here last, she’d added to those carved designs in the glazes that coated the walls. More snow had accumulated. “Busy decorating.”

  Again, he felt that sense of encroachment. But when he didn’t feel the accompanying resentment, he figured he’d become inured to it. “Those symbols you carve—what do they mean?”

  “I’m not sure.” Her eyes darted around the room. “Just stuff I made up.”

  For some reason, at that moment, both of their gazes fell on the bed. His voice was rough when he said, “Why are you sleeping in here?”

  “My room faced south. In here, the north wind blows right in.”

  Sleeping in my bed. He grew aroused at the idea once more. He might not be able to claim her, but there were other benefits. Reminded of that, he offered her the flowers.

  Her gaze flicked over them. “A bouquet? Like in the days of old?”

  “I thought that bringing flowers to a woman one desires was a timeless gesture.”

  “The timing was fine.” She can
ted her head to the side. Had her ears twitched? “But your supposition about the woman was off.”

  Is she studying my face? Could she tell he’d kissed other women? “What do you mean?”

  In answer, she wiggled her fingers, motioning for the flowers. The moment he handed them to her, they began to wither. As he stared, they blackened and died.

  He ran his gloved hand over the back of his neck. “Glad I didn’t get you a kitten.”

  She tossed them into the unused fireplace. “You have to understand that I’m not like the women you knew. This world is not like you thought. Everything has changed for you. And you can’t apply your human expectations to it.”

  “Then tell me about this world. Teach me.”

  “Would you like me to give you a lesson right now?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Valkyrie have a superhuman sense of smell. Not as strong as Lykae or demons. Maybe not even as strong as vampires. But enough so I can smell the women you’ve been with.”

  Ah, Christ.

  TWENTY-SIX

  DANII SMELLED WOMEN’S PERFUMES. Plural. She could tell he’d been close enough to them to pick up their scents, but she couldn’t detect exactly what he’d been doing with them.

  At her words, he’d gone still, his eyes narrowing. Now he shrugged, and any hint of guilt she might have imagined was gone, replaced by nonchalance. “I kissed . . . a couple of women.”

  Her claws straightened with jealousy.

  “Just wanted to see what it’d be like. After so long.”

  Lightning flashed outside. His cavalier manner infuriated her. “Did you do more?”

  “Daniela, you’re making an issue out of something trivial. The women were humans, and I only kissed them.”

  “Trivial? Did you just happen to know these mortals? Or were they tramps you picked up while you were supposed to be searching for Ivo?”

  At his expression, she grew queasy. Bingo. She could just see him lustily making out with skanks in some alley in the Quarter.

  I’ve always ridiculed tourists who did that.

  There were so few secrets within the Lore. Gossipers abounded. Everyone would know Murdoch had spurned Danii to be with other women. And it was bad enough for a Bride to be forsaken by a leech, but it was entirely humiliating to be passed over for mortals.

  “We never made a commitment to each other,” he finally said. When lightning flashed again, he scrubbed his palm over his mouth. “You simply informed me that you’d be staying here. And I haven’t kissed a woman in three hundred goddamned years.”

  “Then why didn’t you do more with them?”

  He exhaled wearily. “They left me cold—”

  “Cold?” she cried, a hysterical note to her voice. “I’m so glad I made you swear not to tell anyone anything about me, not that they won’t all know now. I hope you put money against us in Loa’s betting book.”

  “We aren’t wed.” His own ire spiked. “I made you no promises. You have no call to be angry with me.”

  “I’m angry because you’ve finally seen what’s been just before you all along. But you’ve seen it too late.”

  “Too late? Again, I only kissed them. I came here tonight, to be with you, even though I had those women begging me for more.”

  Begging him? Was he that good a kisser? She shook herself— she’d never know. “And yet you chose to come here and be with me, a female who can’t give you more. I find that difficult to believe!”

  “Believe it, ice queen. You’ve broken me—I want no other!”

  “And that makes you broken?” She gave a cry. “Gods, I am so sick of you!”

  “Sick of me? When I admit that I chose you above others? Your timing is ridiculous.”

  “Because I don’t buy this! If you think you’re broken, then you’re going to want to get fixed. Not to wallow in your brokenness. Trust me, I know this!” Sad, sad Daniela . . .

  “So now you’ve got me all figured out, when you’ve known me for a couple of weeks? Ah, that’s right, I’m merely a manwhore and nothing more.”

  “I’ve only known you a short while, but I know men. I’ve witnessed the entire spans of their lives. You’re not a man who won’t deign to commit. You’re a coward who’s afraid to.”

  “Coward?” Though he sneered the word, Danii saw a flicker of some emotion in his eyes. She’d hit a nerve.

  “A selfish coward! You expect me to just be waiting here, standing by for whenever you decide you want more from me?”

  “You are just waiting here, Valkyrie.”

  At that, she began building ice in her palm, and he eyed it with contempt. “Leave here, vampire. And don’t come back!”

  “This is my house!”

  “Does this look like your house any longer?” A gust of flurries blew in the window to punctuate her words.

  “Fine. Have it! Consider it a gift for a couple of pleasurable nights.”

  With a bitter curse, Murdoch traced from the lodge. He returned to his meeting place in case Rurik showed—

  And found himself surrounded by beings.

  They looked like demons, but they had red eyes like fallen vampires. They were immense and carried medieval weapons, cudgels and maces.

  Behind them stood Ivo, his bald head gleaming. Just five years ago, they’d met on a battlefield. Finally, I’ve found this prick.

  “We seek the halfling,” Ivo said. “If you have information about her, we might spare your life.”

  Halfling? “I wouldn’t tell you anything, even if I knew what you were talking about.”

  In a bored tone, Ivo commanded, “Then kill him.”

  Murdoch drew his sword in a flash, swung it at the closest demon. The male laughed as he easily dodged the blow.

  The speed was inconceivable. You can’t fight these beings. Just as he’d been told.

  Before Murdoch could retreat, they were upon him, preventing him from tracing. A cudgel caught him across the face, tearing and crushing at the same time. Blood sprayed.

  A blow to his leg bludgeoned his femur, sending him to his knees. Another shattered his arm.

  The strength . . . monstrous. A studded mace hit him directly in the chest, embedding in his sternum. Can’t breathe, can’t . . .

  Against his will, his blood-drenched eyes closed. Realization dawned. I’m about to die. And all he could think about was how he wanted to see Daniela just one last time.

  Ivo ordered, “Take his head—”

  A roar sounded. Murdoch struggled just to crack open his lids. Rurik and Lukyan, here? They must’ve been trailing Ivo earlier.

  As the two charged into the fight, Murdoch tried to warn them, but couldn’t speak. Jaw not working?

  Rurik went fully berserk, wildly swinging his battle hammer. Lukyan wielded his two swords, looking as if he hungered for death— and planned to take with him as many as possible.

  But when Rurik received a hit that felled even his giant frame, Lukyan muttered, “Fuck this.” Then he traced away.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I’M GOING TO MISS IT HERE. But Danii knew she couldn’t stay.

  She’d be relinquishing the vampire’s gift for two nights of pleasure.

  How could she even be surprised that he’d remained away? After all, he was probably busy mugging with mortals in back alleys. Which left Danii to be the Forbearer’s forsaken one.

  She reminded herself yet again that she’d dodged a bullet with Murdoch. This could have been much worse. Anything between them could never have worked out. If she threw all in with him and then got jilted, people would ask, “What was she thinking, to make a grab at a rake like that? With no warm bed to offer him?”

  She sighed. Damn it, she’d liked him—and she’d liked it here.

  The pressure to carve had continued to grow within her, as if she were nearing some goal and gaining momentum. It was satisfying to her, and brought into stark relief exactly how little in her life had contented her before.

  Her moth
er had told Danii that she descended from the line of the Winter Queens, but Danii had never felt a connection to that ancestry. She felt more Valkyrie than ice fey. Of course, she didn’t fit in with the Valkyrie either. Sad, sad Daniela.

  Were these symbols the very first tie to her heritage? Why was she only now seeing them?

  Didn’t matter. Her time here had ended.

  If she remained, she’d get too attached to the lodge. The longer she stayed, the longer she’d want to. And she could just see Murdoch bringing another woman here in a few years and finding Danii still inside, putzing around in her nightgown, muttering, “Oh, hai. Don’t mind me.”

  Danii had determined and finally accepted that Murdoch equaled misery. Unfortunately, she’d concluded this after she’d begun falling for him.

  Time to leave.

  Now I just need to find a ride.

  “You should see the other guy,” Murdoch grated from his bed.

  Nikolai had already been pale when he traced into the room at Mount Oblak. Seeing Murdoch like this made even more blood drain from his face.

  He knew how bad he looked. A metal brace was screwed into his leg to stabilize his crushed femur. One arm was immobilized in a cast, and bandages swathed more of his body than not. His face was lacerated from the corner of his mouth to his ear, held together only by stitches. All in all, he was lucky to be alive.

  No. Not lucky.

  Murdoch and Rurik lived only because Lukyan had returned directly with a full battle contingent. It turned out that Lukyan didn’t like to merely fight—he liked to win.

  Nikolai finally found his voice. “What has happened to you?”

  “I was about to ask you the same. My God, Nikolai, you look worse than I do.” His brother was always so stoical, always sure of his actions.

  So what the hell was going on?

  Nikolai’s eyes grew dark before he glanced away. “We’ll talk of my problems later. Who did this to you?”

  Murdoch let the subject go for now. “Ivo has demons. Demons turned vampires. They are strong—you can’t imagine it. He is looking for someone, but I don’t think it’s your Bride. They mentioned something about a ‘halfling.’”