Shadow and Ice

by Gena Showalter

  Remember, hesitation can get you killed.

  Ranger lumbered to his feet, blood pouring from his chest wound. His blood was a darker blue than his hair and as lovely as it was obscene. Spotting Vale, he stretched out his arm. At the tips of his fingers, flames sparked.

  Almost there...just a few more yards...

  “No,” Knox shouted. “Don’t do it.”

  A demand for Ranger, who was in the process of drawing back his elbow, intending to hurl more flames? Or Vale?

  Didn’t matter. At the last second, Ranger turned and flung the flames at Knox. Contact. Knox bellowed with pain as he ripped off his flaming shirt.

  Vale nearly tripped over her own foot.

  Knox kept running, never slowing, and tossed another dagger at Ranger, cutting through the man’s wrist as he turned and prepared to throw another fireball. This time, Vale would be the target.

  So close...

  “No, Vale. No,” Knox shouted again.

  There!

  No time to ponder, or debate the wisdom of her actions. Don’t think, just act. Vale swung her sword.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  KNOX PACED, FRANTIC with worry. Vale was sprawled on the bed, thrashing as little fires flickered at the ends of her fingertips—fires he had to put out before she torched the entire bunker. If she wasn’t mumbling incoherently, she was screaming in pain and terror.

  At first, he’d been furious with her. She’d stolen a kill from him, taking the flying boots out of the war and gaining a new power to use against everyone, even him, after he had commanded her to stand down.

  Then he’d thought, Betrayed! She’ll do anything to win.

  But it hadn’t taken long for the truth to crystalize. He was a hypocrite. He would do anything to gain more power and win. How could he blame another combatant for doing the same?

  And really, he couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t want Vale well able to protect herself, then strip her of power at every opportunity.

  But as one day bled into another and she remained trapped in her mental hell, he wished he’d stopped her for another reason entirely. Ranger was one of the oldest combatants, and Vale was incredibly young. Too young to handle the psychological and emotional onslaught she’d absorbed.

  Helplessness nearly suffocated Knox. He tried to occupy his mind by studying Gunnar’s sword, but more than once Vale opened her eyes and commanded, “Kill me. Let me join them.”

  Them? Ranger’s family?

  Knox needed Vale to recover. Somehow, he’d grown to trust her more than he’d ever trusted another. He liked the way her mind worked, the way she considered the consequences and rewards of every action. She’d become a valuable asset, teaching him about her realm and helping him strategize ways to win the war.

  They hadn’t known each other long, but timing hardly mattered. All the greats in his life, good or bad, had happened in moments. The moment he’d created a baby. The moment he’d met his child for the first time. The moment he’d taken an arrow for a woman he was supposed to kill.

  “No,” she mumbled. The tips of her fingers crackled with flames again, and Knox lurched over to put them out, uncaring when multiple blisters popped up on his palms. “Nooooo.”

  Hate this!

  “Valina. Sweetheart.” He eased beside her, ensuring his hip pressed against hers as he gently traced his knuckles over her jawline. Contact with her wasn’t just a want, but a need. “You must wake up. We’ve got to get you ready for the next check-in.” He had so much to tell her, so much to teach her.

  If he had to carry her to the assembly—which he would do if he had to—other combatants would view her as an easy mark.

  Wouldn’t they already?

  And if not an easy one, a necessary one. When they learned Vale absorbed the memories and abilities of her victims—something no one else could do—they would stop at nothing to take her out.

  She leaned into Knox’s touch, her need for contact just as desperate as his. Such soft, luminous skin. Such a beautiful, brave woman. How had he ever considered her of a lower class than the “ladies” of Iviland? The circumstances of her birth meant nothing. Rich or poor, princess or peasant, she possessed more grace and honor than anyone he’d ever met.

  “Hurts,” she cried, and Knox jerked his hand away, hating the thought of causing her pain. “Can’t go on like this.”

  He wasn’t to blame. So why wasn’t he eased?

  Her cries grew louder, more frantic, and he cupped her jaw with more force. “I’m here, valina.” The sun that warmed. She had warmed him, hadn’t she? For the first time in his life, his mind was filled with something other than war. “I need you to fight these memories.”

  “Nooooo,” she screamed. “Come back to me.”

  Hate this. “Wake up for the girl, Nola. She’ll suffer without you, yes? You don’t want that. Come back to her. Come back to me. I’m your ally, and I’m right here.” Waiting. Desperate.

  “Hurts,” she cried again.

  {Check-in nears. Wake her.}

  “I’m trying,” he snarled. Deep breath in, out. He patted Vale’s soft, pale cheek. “I’ve had enough of this. You will fight Ranger’s memories. Do you hear me? Fight!”

  * * *

  FIGHT!

  Knox’s ragged voice called to Vale, drifting on a cool breeze. Despite the dark mire of her thoughts, she tasted the familiar decadence of honeyed whiskey...smoke, so much smoke. She got lost in it once again. And in the fires, so many fires, her mind spiraling down a rabbit hole filled with memories she’d never lived.

  Jetha had been a peaceful paradise. Then armies from other-realms had arrived. As battle after battle raged, Jetha was destroyed, just like Knox’s Iviland. Resources were plundered, cloud forests razed. Crystal clear oceans turned crimson as citizens and livestock were killed en masse.

  More fires...

  Ranger stood before the graves of his loved ones. A cherished wife, two beloved sons and a treasured daughter. He yearned for vengeance, to take what those other-realms valued most, and he believed he’d found a way. Something called the All War. As a combatant, he could prevent other realms from gaining new territories, and kill their best warriors in the process.

  “Vale!”

  Knox’s voice again. More honeyed whiskey, with a dash of cream. Mmm. So good. She wanted more.

  “Focus on me, valina. Fight to reach me.”

  Fight, yes. But even as she reached for him, an invisible chain shackled her ankles and dragged her back down, deeper into the hole. So much pain. So much determination.

  Ranger had come to Terra for revenge. To his astonishment, he’d found a new reason to live. Celeste had awakened his deadened heart, and he’d needed her close, always and forever.

  The feeling had faded whenever they’d parted, his sorrow returning, and he’d decided never to part from her again. He would do anything to bask in her, body and soul.

  After breaking free of the ice, he’d saved her from certain death, whisking her to their special meeting spot, where he’d patched up her wounds and tucked her into bed, right next to him, where she belonged. Once again he’d experienced utter contentment...until he’d woken up and discovered she’d left.

  Awaiting her return had been torture. But near the lavender field, he could smell her, lust for her, an endless fire in his blood.

  Finally, another rift had opened. But the only thing he’d seen? A pair of hazel eyes that hadn’t belonged to his beloved Celeste.

  Who had dared invade his hideaway?

  “Vale.”

  Knox’s voice boomed inside her head. Yet again, she reached for him. Miss him so much. Our time together is limited. Can’t waste another minute apart.

  “Vale!”

  Louder this time. Reaching... A cool breeze returned, gusting through her, lifting her
higher... The pit tried to suck her back down, but she continued rising.

  “We have to leave,” Knox snapped. “We have to leave now. We’re due at the Assembly of Combatants. Now, Vale. Now!”

  Higher still, the need to open her eyes, to stand up and walk, no sprint, no rift to the ice mountains too intense to deny.

  Need to be on the mountains now, now—

  NOW!

  As if shocked with a defibrillator, Vale came awake in an instant. Ranger’s memories receded to the back of her mind, realization settling in.

  She was panting, drenched in sweat, but at least the intoxicating flavor in her mouth lingered. A clear film blurred her vision...blink, blink...a shadow took shape, looming above her. Blink, blink. Finally the film thinned, and she met the shadow’s gaze.

  Knox expelled a lengthy breath, his shoulders rolling in, and she frowned. What the heck had happened to him? Red rimmed his bloodshot eyes, bruises formed half-moons underneath them, and lines of tension framed them. He hadn’t shaved in days, his beard stubble thicker and darker than usual. Welts covered his neck.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, confused by the throatiness of her voice. Wait. Where was she? Definitely not the lavender field. A quick look around revealed she was inside Knox’s bunker. And she was naked. “Did I faint after I killed Ranger? How long was I out?”

  “I’m fine. And yes. You were out for almost two weeks. You’re naked because you kept burning your clothes.”

  What! “Please tell me you’re kidding about the timeline. And the clothes.” She’d wanted the ability to shoot streams of fire, not the ability to turn her clothes to ash.

  “I never learned how to kid. And now, we’re out of time.” He catapulted to his feet and rushed around the bunker, gathering clothing, strapping on weapons. “While you were out, I modified the six bullets in my revolver’s cylinder. Upon impact, they’ll produce spikes, causing more damage. When it reloads, the new bullets will be normal, so I’ll have to put the spiked ones to good use. And I’ll be taking Gunnar’s sword, even though I haven’t figured out what it can do.”

  He was babbling, probably to distract her from her weakened state, which was super cute, if macabre.

  “Oh! I had a dream about his sword,” she told him. “Gunnar and Celeste were alone. He was shirtless and wounded, and she said something about ramifications if he used the weapon on himself. He said he’d already paid the price, then pressed the hilt against his forehead and the blade against his chest. The sword just...melted, all on its own, and absorbed into his skin. He screamed in pain, and I woke up, so I don’t know what happened next. I’m sorry.”

  Looking pensive, he said, “The metal liquefied, not the person. To heal him, perhaps? I’ve heard of other weapons with a similar trait... The ramifications...” His eyes widened and zoomed back to her. He peered at her with dawning horror.

  “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  “The eyaer...”

  She waited for him to finish. His war instincts...what?

  He took a step in her direction, stopped. Another step. His hands fisted. Then he leaped away as if she’d become toxic. “Doesn’t matter,” he croaked. “I won’t be taking Gunnar’s sword, after all.”

  “Why?” What was going on with him? If her head hadn’t been swimming with dizziness, she was certain she could figure it out.

  “I’ll explain later. For now, we’ve got too many things to do.”

  “Right.” Vale eased into a sitting position and inhaled, exhaled. As the dizziness ebbed at last, she caught sight of sheets littered with burn holes. Wait. “I did this?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. You can create fire now. Up, up.” He didn’t wait for her to obey but tugged her to her feet. “We must join the assembly as soon as possible. Can’t be late. Have less than an hour.”

  An hour? Dang.

  Though she swayed, Knox dressed her. Bra. Panties. T-shirt over her head, arms through the sleeves. He bent down to yank a pair of pants up her legs. As he anchored her combat boots in place, she used his shoulders for balance.

  Ugh. She felt like total crap.

  “You have a choice,” he said, holding up a coat. “Being warmish, or being cold and having better range of motion.”

  First assembly, first all-out brawl. The right outfit was imperative.

  Vale remembered the crippling cold she’d experienced the last time she’d been in those mountains, but nervousness led her to croak, “Range of motion.”

  “Good choice.” He tossed the coat aside and shoved a piece of fruit in her hand. “Eat fast.”

  All this rushing around made the nervousness worse. “I, um, need a moment,” she said, and swallowed her first bite. The juice ran down her throat, mixing with the honey and whiskey, soothing irritated tissues.

  “You’ve got half a moment.” He kissed her forehead and gave her a little push toward the bathroom.

  On the walk, she devoured the fruit, pleased when strength returned to her limbs. After brushing her teeth and splashing cold water on her face, she caught sight of her reflection and flinched. Tangled hair, tired eyes, chapped lips.

  But a girl didn’t need to look pretty to kick butt.

  Reaching up to wipe a water droplet from her lashes, she noticed the tips of her fingers had turned black, and nodded with dread and satisfaction. Ranger’s ability to create streams of fire—an ability Knox hadn’t wanted her to have—now belonged to her. But there were plenty of complications.

  I can do this. “You’re not going to the assembly to make friends,” she said aloud. “The other kids on the playground are bullies. They don’t have to like you. They just have to die.”

  “Vale,” Knox called. “If you are worried...just know that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  What was she going to do with that man? He hadn’t wanted her to gain a new ability, but he’d also saved her when she couldn’t save herself, and he hadn’t offed her when he’d had the chance. He would protect her, despite everything.

  He was a hero and a villain rolled into one. But so was she.

  “We must go,” he said.

  “Coming, I’m coming,” she called back. One final glance at her reflection. No mercy.

  When she emerged, Knox wasted no time, strapping Celeste’s sword to her back.

  “Thank you. For everything,” she said. She owed him big-time. “Did you happen to grab Ranger’s clothes or boots?” Even though she couldn’t activate the boots, she felt drawn to them, just as she’d been drawn to the sword. And the clothes might be fireproof, considering they hadn’t burned.

  “They are in the alcove, but the boots are damaged, unusable. The clothes won’t fit you, or conform to your body. Listen. I’d hoped to prepare you for what’s to come but—” Dark curses spilled from him.

  What was to come? Ranger’s memories rushed to the surface, Celeste’s hot on their trail. The two clashed, the battle sending sharp pains through Vale’s head.

  Knox grazed her cheeks with his thumbs, the action soft and tender, so at odds with the hardened man standing before her. For a moment, she wondered if he had absorbed some of Ranger’s fire-making skill, as well. He sparked little flames of desire inside her. With a little stoking, each one could blaze into an inferno.

  As her heart raced, he leaned down to brush the tip of his nose against hers. When she clasped onto his shirt, clinging to him, his eyelids turned heavy, and he dipped his hands to her ass to pull her against his erection. If only those hands would delve under the waist of her pants, slide forward and cup the liquid heat now pooling between her legs...

  Would he always arouse her so easily, so quickly?

  “Focus on me, valina,” he said. Blistering desire had turned the words to sensual smoke.

  “Yes. You.” Beneath her hand, his heartbeat raced in time to hers. Knox became th
e center of her world...

  Knox, the man she craved but planned to leave.

  She bit her tongue. Is ditching him really what’s best?

  She suspected...yes. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Soonish. He’d won four All Wars without a partner, for good reason. Partners turned on you.

  While she trusted Knox with her life—for now—that could change in a blink, a breath, a second. Better to get out of this before her desire for him developed fangs and a tail and morphed into a beast she couldn’t tame. Whatever this was.

  First, they had to survive tonight’s assembly.

  Frick! Breath wheezed from her. What if they died tonight?

  Not ready to die. Not ready to watch Knox die.

  Moaning, Vale rose to her tiptoes and fed him a passionate kiss. She gave him everything she had, but took from him, too. And he let her do it, because he gave and took right back, kissing her with untamed ferocity, his tongue thrusting against hers.

  He fisted strands of her hair, those calloused hands angling her head. A habit he’d developed. One she loved. Helpless to do otherwise, she surrendered her body utterly, fully.

  With a growl, he tore his mouth from hers. Panting, he said, “We must go.”

  Dismay prickled at the back of her neck. Not yet, not yet. “We’re going to the ice mountains where we first met?” The pull hadn’t lessened.

  He gave a curt nod. “We’ll rift nearby so they see us arrive together, then make our way to the prison rubble. For one hour, we’ll be trapped inside a small clearing, surrounded by invisible walls, our powers and weapons deactivated while the Enforcer—Seven—communicates with the High Council.”

  One hour. Got it.

  But he wasn’t done. “Remember everything I told you about the other combatants, and guard your thoughts. Emberelle and Saxon can read your mind, and stop a blow before you deliver it.”

  Well. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about freezing to death.

  Wow. What a silver lining.