Shadow and Ice

by Gena Showalter

  Corrupt...like Knox’s king?

  Erik had nothing to say on the subject, only nodded his agreement. A startling thought drifted through Vale’s mind. I could throw my hat into their ring. Part of her kind of liked the cookies they were selling.

  Deep in thought, Adonis fretted two fingers over his jaw. “Did Knox tell you anything about a woman named Celeste?”

  “C-Celeste?” Vale stammered. Never mind. There’d be no hat throwing. As soon as these guys learned what Vale could do, they would consider her a danger they couldn’t afford to keep around, guaranteed. And they’d be right.

  “I bet he ended her in the motel room just before our arrival and hid the body,” Erik said. “He has her sword, and wore her scent.”

  Yep, they blamed Knox. There was no reason to disabuse them of the notion, and a thousand reasons to play along. Right now, the two males were at ease with Vale, and unafraid. They didn’t consider her a threat.

  Now or never. With a faux screech of distress—all right, only half-faux—she pitched her body at the door, as if intending to leap to freedom. When Adonis grabbed her, she struggled against him, secretly clasping a dagger sheath. Bingo!

  “Enough of that,” he said, placing her in a choke hold.

  Vision, going dark. No, no. She fought harder, fought with all her might, but darkness continued to encroach upon her mind, inch by dooming inch, extinguishing any hint of light.

  * * *

  CONSCIOUSNESS RETURNED TO Vale in gradual degrees.

  Eyes burning, she blinked rapidly. Bright rays of sunlight combed through a canopy of trees...trees...she was outside? But why—

  Memories surfaced, and she gasped. Erik and Adonis. The car ride. The choke hold.

  Now her hands were tied with rope. As discreetly as possible, she rolled to her side to look herself over. Oh, thank the good Lord! She hadn’t been divested of her T-shirt and shorts. While the clothes offered little protection against the cool breeze, her favorite parts were covered, so she called it a win.

  Frick! The dagger she’d stolen was missing.

  The bottoms of her feet no longer hurt; the cuts must have healed...because she was immortal. Had the guys noticed?

  Silly question. If they’d noticed, she would be dead.

  Tremors shook her, but at least the crisp, clean mountain air chased away any lingering head-fog. Get free, and get going.

  The rope extended over her stomach and anchored to her ankles, making it difficult to sit up but not impossible. As soon as she succeeded, her temples throbbed. Deep breath in, out.

  She scanned the area and jolted. The guys had dumped her in a valley, and left countless humans to guard her. The men and women appeared to be from every walk of life, some dressed in jeans and T-shirts, some in scrubs, others in suits or dresses. A few wore hard hats. No one spoke a word, and everyone stared straight ahead.

  They were the ones from the article, she would bet. The people who’d disappeared in Colorado. But why were they here? What were they doing?

  As if sensing she’d roused, Adonis shouldered past a cluster of men and locked gazes with Vale. “Our honored guest awakens at last.”

  Keep your cool. “My nightmare returns.”

  He grinned, his entire face lighting up, and okay, yes, the name Adonis fit him well. He was a beautiful man, with strong features and a total bad boy vibe. In the sunlight, his dark skin possessed a violet shimmer the same shade as his irises.

  “Who are these people?” she asked, motioning to the crowd with a tilt of her chin.

  “Meet my army.” He patted the curved horn that hung around his neck. “I summoned anyone within a hundred-mile radius who is over the age of eighteen and had irrevocably harmed another mortal at some point in their lifetime. Apparently your realm is filled with such deviants.”

  Facts crystalized. The Horn of Summoning... With a single blow, he could turn large groups of people, animals or even the undead into mindless armies devoted to his will.

  “Must admit, I expected Knox to come for you,” he said, thoughtful. He closed the distance, held a canteen to her lips and helped her sip, delicious water sliding down her dry throat. “He promised he would.”

  The barb struck home, and she flinched. If Knox had wanted to find her, he would have succeeded already. Had he decided to wash his hands of her? Yeah. Probably. And she wasn’t upset about it. Nope. Not even a little.

  But dang it, why am I never good enough? “Told you,” she replied softly. What was the big deal, anyway? She had planned to leave Knox. So he’d left her first? So what? Except...

  His abandonment was a big freaking deal.

  Tears stung her eyes. He’d kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if they were part of a dirty fairy tale, and she was Sleeping Beauty, destined to wake with true love’s kiss. He’d kissed her as if she meant something to him. As if he never wanted her to hurt, much less die.

  This changes nothing.

  I know.

  She was stupid, so incredibly stupid. For her, the kiss had changed everything. She’d felt the vast depths of his inner pain, and something inside her had shifted.

  Yes, she’d opted to ditch him in the motel room, but even then, even when she’d denied the depths of their connection, that kiss had scared the ever-loving crap out of her. He’d proved he had power over her, sensual power, and part of her had realized she could fall for her former captor. Oh, the horror. The cliché.

  Clearly, Knox hadn’t experienced the same earth-shattering realization. Like everyone else, he was too dim-witted to comprehend how special she was—how good she could be for him.

  Fine, there was a slim chance she could be okay for him. Good might be a bit of an overreach.

  Anyway. He didn’t deserve to spend any more time with her.

  This is for the best. Can’t trust him.

  “Are you going to send me on my merry way?” she asked, not daring to hope.

  “Sorry, but you’re staying with us, little mortal.” Adonis gave her a half smile. “The bastard might decide you’re worth a fight, after all.”

  Ouch. If he’d wanted to raise her hackles and scrape old wounds raw, he’d succeeded.

  Her father wasn’t the only one who’d walked away from her and never looked back. Nor were the boys she’d dated. Besides Nola, the foster sisters and brothers she’d bonded with hadn’t cared to stay in touch.

  I have so much love to give, but no one wants it. No one wants me.

  Ugh. How many times was she going to whine about this? Her worth wasn’t based on the thoughts or actions of others. I am Vale London, the only one there is, and I am priceless!

  I’m a treasure!

  “What, no protests?” Adonis asked.

  Never let them see you squirm. “You want a protest? Well, why didn’t you say so? How’s this?” She made a lewd hand gesture.

  He burst out laughing, surprising her.

  Trying to charm her? Too bad. She was going to blow this joint as soon as possible.

  Celeste would unleash the pheromone, sending him into a sexual frenzy. He would cut her loose just so she could touch him. Barring that, she would become intangible if possible, grab his dagger, stab him and sneak off the mountain.

  Giving away her secret and fake-seducing someone other than Knox would be Operation Survive: No Other Choice. She needed to think of something better—something even halfway decent.

  “There’s nothing. No tracks, no sightings.” Erik joined the party, two rifles slung over his shoulder. His eye had completely regenerated. He glared at Adonis, snapping, “By the way, your army is creepy as hell.”

  Just how many people had congregated in these mountains, ready to obey the warrior’s very command? “Creepy and useless,” she said. “I’ve seen Knox fight. Your helpers are gonna go down like pins on bowling night.”<
br />
  “I’m sure I’d be intimidated if I knew what bowling was,” Adonis said, all droll humor and sex appeal. “My translator is teeing up images of chicken wings, smashed cans of beer and rolling balls.”

  “Maybe if we hurt the girl, make her scream,” Erik said, “Knox will hurry.”

  Considering she’d beheaded a woman, gotten stabbed, been captured and kissed by a murderer only to be kidnapped by other murderers, today’s threats were just more of the same. Part of her new normal.

  “Let me save you the trouble of exerting yourselves.” Vale unleashed the scream of all screams, a sound fit for a horror movie. By the time she quieted, her companions were cringing. “Thoughts? Suggestions? Comments?”

  Adonis gave her an admiring look while Erik regarded her with a pensive stare.

  A wave of gunshots rang out, and she stilled, not even daring to breathe. One, two—six shots echoed through the mountains, followed by silence, followed by six more shots. As her heart kicked into a drunken race, mortals dropped around her, holes in their foreheads, brain matter and blood splattered over the ground.

  In the motel room, she’d vomited at the sight of such violence. Now? She looked around, hopeful. Had Knox come for her?

  “Surround the girl,” Adonis called. He and Erik raced away, and the mortals rushed to her.

  More gunshots echoed. The men closest to her got hit first, falling over dead one after the other.

  “He’s taking out anyone who nears her,” someone—Rush?—shouted from somewhere in the distance. He’d survived. Had Knox?

  He must. Who else would protect her like this?

  More shots. More dead bodies.

  Frantic, Vale looked for a rock, something, anything to aid her escape. Her captors had to be running through the trees, closing in on Knox. It would be three against one. She could better the odds. She owed him, after all. He’d taken an arrow for her.

  Poppoppoppop! The next round of shots came so quickly, they bled together. There! A dead mortal with a tool belt.

  Vale scooted across the dirt, dug through the tools. Hammer—no. Tape measure—waste of space. Screwdriver, pry bar, level—no, no, and no. Utility knife—yes!

  She trapped the tool between her upraised knees and sawed at her bindings...

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  RAGE HELD KNOX in an intractable grip, tension a powder keg inside him, set to blow at any second. He should be out there, hunting Ronan and Carrick, adding to his kills, collecting new weapons, taking strides to advance the war and remove his slave bands before Ansel ordered him to do something truly repugnant.

  But here he was, chasing after Vale—an enemy—determined to lay the heads of her tormentors at her feet. Somehow, a single kiss had changed the very fabric of his being. The merciless Ivilandian with no ties wanted his woman back.

  For too many centuries Knox had avoided kissing, and not just because of his trainer’s warning. Having come upon other men trapped in the throes, he’d known, deep down, the power such a connection could wield. The devolving of your thoughts. The distraction, the world around you fading.

  Knox never should have kissed Vale. His first suspicions had been correct. Learning the hope of what could be, the sweetness of her flavor, the softness of her lips, the heaven of her curves, the bliss of grinding his erection into her core—it had been lethal to his resolve. He’d been reduced to this, an addict who only wanted more, who was as much a fool as the soldiers who’d died guarding Celeste. A fear he’d had, and now lived.

  But he understood the other males in a way he hadn’t before. He’d glimpsed a future filled with satisfaction, contentment, peace and pleasure, so much pleasure, with no hint of battle, blood or vengeance, and he’d needed to make it a reality.

  He wasn’t sure how he’d existed so long without the hope Vale provided, but knew he wasn’t going another night without her tucked safely at his side. If necessary, he would raze these mountains to reach her.

  After a lifetime of war, she is my prize.

  She hadn’t feared his strength. No, she’d reveled in it. She hadn’t winced when he’d squeezed too tight. No, she’d begged for more. Demanded more.

  There was a problem. Her incredible scent had acted as an aphrodisiac to him and to the other males.

  The truth had hit him as he’d tracked her through the rain, his head clearing of primal lust. It wasn’t a perfume, as he’d first assumed, but a weapon taken from Celeste’s arsenal. An innate supernatural ability Vale had absorbed, just as she’d absorbed the ability to become invisible—which she’d done seconds before Knox had urged her to run from the room.

  He would find out more, just as soon as he had her in his possession.

  Soon...

  Positioned high in a tree, he had a full-circle view of the entire clearing. A golden sun glowed in a baby blue sky scattered with fluffy white clouds. A crowd of humans surrounded a campsite, while trees surrounded the crowd, forming a border. Wisps of white cotton danced on a warm breeze, like snow without the chill.

  Vale crouched on a patch of grass, a knife held between her upraised knees, sawing at the thick rope that bound her wrists. As more humans hurried over to engulf her, Knox used the revolver to take down the ones closest to her; he commanded shadows to knock down the rest.

  He would have enfolded Vale herself with shadows, but doing so would have blinded her.

  {Get her back. Level of danger is increasing exponentially.}

  Twigs snapped, signaling the approach of Adonis and Erik.

  Shadows already enveloped Knox, allowing him to blend into the landscape. When the men burst past a line of bushes, clasping swords, they scanned the area, searching for him. His slave bands sizzled instantly, reminding him of Ansel’s command to murder Adonis.

  An opportunity had just presented itself, and the compulsion to obey was too strong to deny. Knox hammered at the trigger.

  The male ducked and dodged before he and Erik charged forward, tracking the sound of the gun blasts. Knox enveloped the two with shadows—

  They shed the darkness like a second skin.

  Neat trick. New trick.

  No matter. Knox emptied the cylinder of rounds, then jumped from the limb. Erik successfully dodged the missiles, but Adonis took one in the shoulder this time.

  His landing was jarring, but Knox managed to remain upright. Both adversaries swung their swords, one going high, one going low. With a tornadic blast of shadows, he sent Adonis stumbling back without ever making contact. Erik was unaffected, and Knox had to jump back to avoid the blow. He exchanged the revolver for The Bloodthirsty.

  The arrow zipped through the air, forcing the males to split up—following Adonis, chasing him through the trees.

  Knox hooked the bow over his shoulder and palmed the short swords strapped to his back. Perfect timing. Erik engaged.

  Whoosh. Clang. The sounds repeated again and again, intermixed with grunts and curses. One of Knox’s blades sliced Erik’s arm but blood never welled.

  Interesting. His clothing blunted the blade, the material stronger than what Knox currently wore.

  I want. I take.

  He and Erik battled on the grass, hopped over fallen branches and leaped atop boulders. Adrenaline acted as both fuel and salve, urging him on while blunting the pain of each new injury. Gashes here, gashes there. Two broken ribs. Torn muscles. A fractured ankle. Goal unshakable, Knox fought on.

  The viking’s supernatural ability soon became clear, and it was as dangerous as Vale’s. Erik could negate the supernatural abilities wielded by others. No wonder he’d shed the shadows so easily. No wonder Knox couldn’t blow him away. No wonder The Bloodthirsty hadn’t gone after him.

  But why hadn’t Erik negated Vale’s scent? Why hadn’t he prevented her from becoming invisible in the motel room, or stopped Knox from using shadows altogether?r />
  Erik must have to purposely engage the ability, which required an extra step on his part. If he hadn’t known the scent was an ability of Vale’s, he wouldn’t have known he needed to negate it. As for Knox, he could have hoped to test the boundaries of his skill, to learn what was possible and what wasn’t.

  “You won’t win against me, murk,” Erik said.

  “You’re at a disadvantage, viking. This is your world, your people. You have much to protect. Much to lose.”

  An army of footsteps caught Knox’s attention. Multiple humans rushed past the bushes to swarm Erik. Adonis hadn’t returned. Finally The Bloodthirsty got what it wanted and cut through a living body, then another and another. Anguished howls resounded.

  “You know what to do,” Adonis shouted from somewhere nearby. “Go!”

  Men and women, young and old, struck at Knox, delaying him, and his frustration mounted. If the combatants fled, absconding with Vale...

  A red haze fell over his vision. The mortals were obstacles in his way. Obstacles got mowed down.

  * * *

  WHEN GOD MADE ME, He was showing off.

  I am the author of my own story. Today I’m writing myself a happy ending, and maybe possibly killing off the rest of the cast.

  I am Vale Fricking London, and I’ve been through hell and back. I can overcome anything.

  As Vale sawed through her bonds, she gave herself different pep talks. Finally. Success! Triumphant, free, she gripped the utility knife, grabbed the hammer she’d discarded earlier and lumbered to unsteady legs. Her heart thudding against her ribs, stomach pitching, she scanned the sea of bodies, blood and filth.

  Vultures circled overhead, waiting for an opportunity to feast. Flies were too impatient to wait, and swarmed.

  Outside the wall of death, living mortals stood guard. Too many to count.

  Grimacing, gagging, Vale climbed over the disgusting blockade. Intending to sneak away, she took a single step to the right. A mere tiptoe. In unison, the mortals spun to face her, stretching out their arms like zombies. The super creepy synchronization sent chills down her spine. Hive mind, anyone?