The Darkest Frost: Vol 2 of a 2-part serial (TDF, #2)

by Tanya Holmes

“Ah yeah, Colona—the jack-of-all-trades. Tell me he had sense enough to use a burner?”

  Braeden nodded, still lost in his thoughts.

  “What’s the number?”

  He recited it absently.

  Xavier pulled out his phone and sent Colona a coded message. “You can hole up at one of my safe houses till we sort this,” Xavier said, yanking Braeden from the storm raging in his mind. “For now—”

  “I don’t want him harmed.” Braeden was staring straight ahead. “He walks away with his life.”

  “Who?”

  Braeden finally looked at him with clarity. “Vogel. Don’t let them kill him.”

  “Okay, Mahatma Gandhi.” Xavier rolled his eyes and chuckled. “One of these days you’ll learn my way is the only way.”

  “He wouldn’t even be in this predicament if I hadn’t killed his wife!”

  Xavier tore around. “And you wouldn’t have killed his wife had we not separated. See, we could play the blame game all night long. The fact remains Vogel sealed his own fate when he hired that hit man. Now that he’s been arrested, it’s out of my hands.”

  “And so is this.” Braeden snatched his medical bag from the backseat, tore out of the car, and stormed up the driveway with Xavier fast on his heels. “Go away,” he barked.

  “What’s the plan? Oh, that’s right. You don’t have one.”

  He wheeled around, grabbed Xavier by the throat, and slammed him into the nearest tree. “I don’t want you here.”

  “Pull your head out of your ass and think for a second, okay? We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

  “There is no ‘we’ in this, Xavier. It’s just me. Now wait in your car and I’ll bring her to you!”

  With that Braeden let Xavier go like so much trash and stalked the rest of the way to the house. Other than a cat prowling beneath a car, the street was deserted. It was a quiet upper-middle-class neighborhood. The kind where picket fences, flower gardens, and manicured lawns abounded.

  Braeden leaned on the bell until a man sporting a day’s growth and wearing baggy jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt ripped the door open.

  From the sour note on his face, he’d recognized Braeden immediately. “What do you want?”

  “I need to see Denieve.”

  His scowl deepened. “She’s not here.”

  “Then whose blue Chevy is parked in your driveway?”

  The man’s eyebrows shot up when Xavier came from behind to stand at Braeden’s side. He split a glance between them. “Twins?”

  “Where is she?” Xavier demanded.

  Braeden silenced Xavier with an impatient gesture. “Look, Mr…?”

  “Antonelli, and you’re on private property. Now leave.”

  “You don’t understand,” Braeden said. “I have to see her. She’s very ill.”

  “Funny how everybody you come into contact with ends up that way.”

  The remark hit home, but Braeden squared his shoulders. “You will step aside.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’ll be very sorry,” Xavier said darkly.

  Antonelli produced a gun and pointed it at Braeden’s heart. “Leave. I won’t tell you again.”

  Braeden had to do this without using his powers. There’d been enough death. “Mr. Antonelli, please. If I don’t treat her, the baby she’s carrying will die. She’s not suffering from the flu. She’s got a very serious—”

  Antonelli cocked the gun.

  “Fuck this,” Xavier mumbled. Before Braeden could stop him, he dematerialized and reappeared behind the man.

  Antonelli whipped his head around. “What the—”

  Xavier snatched the gun and shoved him aside with indifference. The man went crashing into a bookcase.

  “Great! Just great!” Braeden stormed past them. “This is why I didn’t want you here! Now go away before you do something else stupid!”

  “Actually, I think I’ll hang out for a while. You know, keep an eye on our little friend.”

  Scowling, Braeden shot up the curved staircase, then tore down a narrow hallway, searching all the rooms until he got to the last door.

  It was locked.

  “Denieve?” He rattled the knob. “Are you in there?” He knocked and pressed ear to wood, trying to hear over Xavier and Antonelli’s shouts. “Denieve! Open up!” When she still didn’t answer, he yelled, “Stand back. I’m coming in.”

  One mental command later, the door gave way, crashing into the wall.

  CHAPTER 14

  2675 TREASURE COVE RD.

  ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND

  Denieve

  ____________________________

  I gripped the bathroom sink as a crushing weight pressed into my chest. My head was pounding. Stabbing. Throbbing. So much so that thinking was painful. And my words weren’t coming quick enough. Arranging them into actual thoughts was even harder.

  Fifteen minutes I’d been in here trying to figure a way out of Luke’s house. A few ideas floated to the surface, but nothing seemed feasible. Climbing through the window wasn’t an option. It was too high up, I could barely stand, and I’d break my neck climbing down. If I went for the front door, Luke would be right there: a six-foot, two-hundred pound human roadblock.

  Drugging him wouldn’t work. It was too risky, and I might end up killing him. Knocking him out would be impossible. Sure, I held a black belt in Krav Maga, but I was too weak to take him on, and besides, as my instructor, he’d taught me everything I knew.

  No, wait. Maybe I was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe I could make my escape after sending him out. To the store? Yes. Send him to get… What exactly? I closed my eyes and fought through the brain fog. Aspirin? No. Everyone has aspirin. Ginger Ale? No. Ice cream? No! I told him I wasn’t hungry. Nail polish remover? I scowled. No! No! No! Why in the world would I even want that?

  It had to be illness related. Something he may not have at the ready.

  When my stomach pitched, the perfect idea came to me. Motion sickness pills? Yes! I ripped his medicine cabinet open and took a quick inventory. Aspirin. Maalox. Floss. Toothpaste. Prozac. Tramadol. Benadryl. Shaving cream. Razors. Condoms…

  Hallelujah! No Dramamine.

  The tugging sensation hit me again when I slammed the cabinet shut. Only this time, it packed a wallop. It was him—no, both of them. Braeden and Xavier were here. I sensed them as sure as my heartbeat.

  How in the world had they found—

  Angry voices from the first floor rent the silence. A set of heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs, then raced down the hallway. Braeden! He called my name over and over again. Muffled as it was, his voice barely bled through the door. Or maybe it was my ears. Had this fever-based confusion dulled my hearing? Must’ve done a number on my brain too because my body wouldn’t follow my mental commands. I told my legs to move, told my tongue to speak, but neither would obey me.

  That is, until the monster came.

  Out of the corner of my eye, a macabre vision appeared. I gasped as a column of black sand rose from the sink, morphing into a demonic glass figure. Hooked at the end with a claw-like nail, its skeletal finger stabbed in my direction. Blood colored eyes narrowed on me while the phantom shook with ghoulish laughter. The heavy stench of sulfur and sewage streamed from its crooked mouth. Its teeth were sharp and pointy razor blades that glistened ominously beneath the harsh fluorescent light.

  A gut-wrenching scream started deep in my belly, but died in my throat. Terrified and trembling, I took two stumbling steps backward, bumping into a wicker hamper just as the door burst open. It smacked the wall and the frame splintered to the floor.

  Braeden strode through the malevolent image, shattering it into a million shards that evaporated like dust on a breeze. Looking tall, savage, and frantic, the man I loved was such a beautiful sight for my weary eyes. I sighed in relief as he stepped over the broken wood frame. Why had I ever run from him?

  Stupidity and cowardice. That’s why.


  “Goodness gracious,” I said dazedly. My voice had returned, but it sounded hollow to my ears. “How many doors is that now, Braeden? Three?”

  Relief spread across his face as he rushed to me, medical bag in hand. “Four, but who’s counting?”

  “Guess I’ll have to call Mr. Colona again…”

  My knees buckled, but Braeden was there in a flash, scooping my limp body into his powerful arms. It may have been my imagination, but I’d have sworn he was trembling.

  “Denieve.” He squeezed me to him so tightly I lost my breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He pressed a frantic kiss to my forehead, then two more. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. How did you find me?”

  “How indeed,” he murmured in between kisses. “Let’s just say I have a little radar of my own.”

  “Is this another secret power or—” Shouts erupted from downstairs. “Oh, my God, Luke!” Something—a table, a chair?—hit a wall. “Please, please, don’t let Xavier hurt him.”

  “Shhh. Not to worry. He’ll be fine.” Over his shoulder, Braeden shouted in that strange language to Xavier as he whisked me from the bathroom, down the hall, and into the bedroom. After laying me on the mattress, he sat at the bed’s edge and tilted my chin to look me over. “How are you feeling?”

  “My thoughts are jumbled,” I said, blinking to focus. “My brain…it’s—it’s not working right. I keep forgetting what I’m—” I tried to remember what I’d just said, but the memory vanished like a whiff of smoke. “Oh, no, it’s happening again. What was I talking about?”

  His expression teemed with love, concern, and compassion. “It’s your short-term memory. The forgetfulness will come and go. You’ll have moments of clarity, and then the confusion will return, but you’ll be fine in a couple days. It’s just temporary. I promise.”

  Braeden propped a pillow behind me, then dug into his bag and removed a foiled alcohol pad, a syringe, and a clear vial. He swabbed my arm, pricked the rubber stopper with the needle tip, measured out the medicine, and without saying a word, he injected me, hitting the vein dead on.

  I pulled my arm away. “What did you just—”

  Calm washed over me.

  “Something to help with the headache and the shakes,” he said. “It’s perfectly safe.”

  The medicine was fast acting. The migraine tapered off, my muscles turned to pudding, and the weight constricting my chest vanished. “Thank you,” I breathed, my lids drifting open and shut.

  Braeden enfolded me in his embrace. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”

  “It was a stupid mistake—me leaving like that. But at the time…” I lost my words again. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” I gave him a weak squeeze. “I was so frightened and overwhelmed—”

  “Of course you were,” he said. “There’s a lot you need to know, but in your current state, I doubt you’ll absorb any of it.” His cheek lifted against mine in a fleeting smile. “It’s rather complicated.”

  “Just tell me one thing. Please. Did you…”

  My train of thought derailed again.

  “Did I what, sweetheart?” Braeden drew back. “Try to focus. The medicine should help with this too.”

  Several moments passed before my words returned. “What happened to all those people? Your patients. How did they die?”

  An uneasy silence claimed the room. Braeden’s gaze fell from mine, his face paling. His shoulders slumped as he turned from me to hold his head in his hands. Tension radiated from his body while one minute bled into the next.

  Finally, he sighed and said, “I killed them. Including Finn.”

  Before I could even process his admission, he sat back up and tugged at his left glove. He set it aside, slipped Luke’s African violet blossom from my ear, and laid it in his naked palm.

  “This is why I kept the gloves on last night,” he said, his eyes dark and haunted.

  I focused on the tiny purple petals with fear and awe as bud and stem withered and died, curling into a brown husk until nothing but dust remained. He blew into his hand and the dust drifted to the floor.

  “In my language it’s called Tishnon tes meirde. Translated it means: Touch of Death. It’s a spiritual disease that infects the flesh with a virus, but it’s only found in Yoreck like Xavier and me.”

  “Spiritual?”

  “That explanation is more problematic. Let’s stick with the basics for now. And that’s how it affected you.” He stared at the floor. “I’ve lived in terror since that horrible storm. Just the thought that I’d harmed you nearly drove me insane. I couldn’t tell you anything. If I did I risked putting your life in even greater danger. When I said there was no gray in my world, Denieve, I meant just that. Protocol is a cold and harsh reality of the Yoreck. Any threat to the masquerade we live must be silenced. It’s how we’ve survived for millenniums.”

  Clarity returned as I studied his beautiful hand. My heart melted for him. He’d carried this horrible weight on his shoulders, a torment I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Maybe this was why he was so obsessed with his plants. Growing them probably gave him comfort. The same hands that dealt a deathblow to so many people could still nurture life. Doubtless those plants saved his sanity. This might also explain why Xavier was so determined to protect them during the early frost. Despite their differences, he really did love Braeden.

  “Is it only one hand,” I asked, “or is the other affected too?”

  “No, just the one.”

  “And it kills anything?”

  “Yes and no. It’s lethal to mortals and every other living thing, except my own kind,” he said. “I didn’t know I had the disease until my patients started dying. And I learned all too late that I could control the toxin if I concentrated. I use the gloves as a preventative measure.”

  “How do you control it?”

  “A little ‘poison,’ for lack of a better word, stays on it at all times, but I realized all I have to do is think to direct the flow and concentration.” His somber gaze lifted to mine. “But if I’m not in control, the results can be…unpredictable. Like the night you found me in the lab.”

  “You really did die then, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I was conducting an experiment that didn’t go as expected. I had a reaction to the medicine after I amputated my hand.”

  My breath hitched. “You what?”

  “I needed to see if it would regrow disease free. The Yoreck have regenerative abilities.”

  Confusion gave way to shock. He’d taken that hatchet to his hand! Chopped it right off, yet it grew back almost immediately. Then he’d touched me with this new hand when we had sex the first time. Every caress, every moment played back in my mind like a death knell. But even in death, there was life, because I conceived our baby that same night.

  “I had you immunized as a precaution,” he said, “but the antibodies didn’t have a chance to kick in. That’s why I feared the worse when you became ill.”

  “So why am I not dying?”

  “Because our child protected you. Last night I didn’t know what your condition was, so I couldn’t risk not wearing the gloves.” He set a hand over my belly. “You being pregnant was always a distant hope, and now that it’s a reality…”

  Sympathy warmed my heart. “How you’ve suffered. I wish I’d have known. I wish I could have shared the burden with you.”

  He caressed my cheek with his gloved hand. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. Everything you just heard doesn’t make you want to run again?”

  “Me run?” I shook my head. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Dr. Frost.”

  He looked surprised. “You want the baby?”

  “More than anything.”

  “Are you certain? Because when we had dinner, you said—”

  “Well, you can toss that in with all the other lies I told you.”

  “Okay. Next question.” He hesitated, his eyes wary. “Wo
uld you consider marrying me? I understand this is sudden, and there’s a lot you don’t know about me, not to mention—”

  “Yes! A millions times, yes.”

  He breathed a relieved sigh. “Are you sure?”

  “Just try to stop me.”

  “Denieve....” He gathered me into his arms. “You have no idea how much joy you’ve given me.” The rawness of his voice made my eyes well. “I would move mountains to keep you safe, my love. Whole worlds. I never want to be parted from you again. Every breath I take from this day on, I take for you. My heart is—”

  Xavier burst into the room. “Okay, somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on.” He stalked over to the bed gripping a business card. “Why does this say ‘Luke Antonelli, Private Detective’?”

  Braeden twisted around. “Xavier, please—”

  “Please, my ass. Answer the damn question.”

  Oh, goodness no! Luke. I’d completely forgotten about him. “Where is he?” I demanded. “What have you done to him?”

  “Bzzzt! Wrong answer.” Xavier crushed the card and pitched it at Braeden. It bounced off his chest. “I’m the one asking the fucking questions. Who is this guy, D, and what is he to you?”

  “What did you do to him!” I raged, which only made the ache in my head worse.

  “I knocked his ass out. Now start talking.”

  “He’s my friend,” I mumbled massaging my aching temple.

  “Friend? What kind of friend?”

  Braeden gave a weight-of-the-world sigh. “Not now, Xavier.”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re doing this now. Nobody’s going anywhere till I get some answers.”

  My heart sank. I looked at Braeden. “You didn’t tell him about me?”

  Braeden squeezed his eyes closed, shook his head.

  “Helllllo?” Xavier snapped.

  Braeden raised his voice. “He’s a private eye! Denieve partnered with him to investigate me!”

  “Who the fuck is Denieve?”

  “Me,” I said weakly.

  Xavier lifted his arms from his body. “What the hell does that even mean?”

  “Enough!” Braeden said. “Just listen.”

  He took over after that, giving Xavier the abridged version. When he’d finally reached the end of my sordid story, Xavier’s reaction mirrored Braeden’s initial one. Confusion, incredulity, then…