Frost Line

by Linda Howard

  It was the way of things. The Hunters were long-lived, and they served a vital purpose. But it wouldn’t do for mercenaries who could travel between worlds to be invincible. That would give them far too much power.

  Nevan wouldn’t have deserted. No, he was either dead, or he’d taken the deck and teleported to Aeonia, perhaps to steal any credit and favor for himself. But where was Strength?

  If Lenna had remained in this world, they’d feel her. They’d be able to locate her. Esma searched for the energy of a Major Arcana in Seven, which should be easy. Nothing. She tried again, knowing she hadn’t been mistaken, but feeling bound to make the effort, anyway.

  So … had Nevan killed her, or possibly taken her back to Aeonia?

  Or had Caine killed Nevan, and teleported with her and the deck?

  Stroud—who had surely been thinking along the same lines—turned to look at her. He knew as well as she did that returning to Veton empty-handed would be disastrous for their health and well-being.

  Before they could discuss their next step, a man stumbled out of the house Lenna and the child had run from a short while ago. He glanced in their direction, grumbled something nonsensical, and studied the tracks in the snow that led to the woods. When he muttered, “Fuck it,” and turned away, she understood him very well. Something was not to his liking, and he was disgusted.

  The man limped around the house and disappeared from view. Esma opened her mouth but before she could say anything, an older woman with white hair stepped out onto the porch of the house next to the one where Strength had been. She looked at them, waved, and asked, “Can you believe it? Snow! Too bad it didn’t come on Christmas. I’d like to see a white Christmas.” Then she squinted. “Oh, I don’t know you. Who are you? Are you Amber’s friends?”

  Esma had no idea who this Amber was, but nodded her head.

  The woman smiled. “I expect Elijah and his little friend will be out here before too much longer, building a snowman and throwing snowballs. Tell him I’ll make them some hot chocolate when they get too cold!” The woman hugged herself, shivered, and went back inside her house.

  Interaction with the local inhabitants was best avoided. Esma and Stroud exchanged a glance, then of one accord they began walking toward the woods and whatever they might find there.

  “This ‘Elijah’ must be the child who was with her,” Stroud commented.

  “My interpretation of the events, with the man entering the house and then Strength and the child running from it, is that for some reason she’s protecting the child. Perhaps if we find him we will have a way to her.”

  “But we have no way of locating a Seven native,” he pointed out, frowning.

  “We know what he looks like, we know his name, we know he lives here. We can’t sense his energy, but we can use our other faculties.” Such as our brains, she thought somewhat caustically, but left the words unsaid. She liked Stroud well enough; there was no gain in antagonizing him.

  On the other hand … why ignore the most obvious explanation of what had happened, and why they could no longer sense anyone. “Caine must have taken her back to Aeonia,” she said with a sigh. “She couldn’t have returned unless she had the deck with her. It must’ve been in that bag she wore.” The bag she’d carried hadn’t seemed large enough, or special enough, for such important contents, but what other explanation was there? The most valuable artifacts were often in the most modest containers. “If Elijah is in those woods, we can grab him, return to Aeonia, and find out exactly how attached Lenna is to him. Maybe she’ll give us the deck in exchange for his safety. The main thing we need to do is retrieve the deck and give it to Veton. Everything else is secondary.”

  There were far too many uncertainties in that scenario, but even a hundred uncertainties were preferable to returning to Veton with nothing.

  Lenna suffered the Hunter’s half-embrace as he held both her and Elijah, and in an instant they were elsewhere. She barely had time to register the sharp sting of energy on her skin, the heat and speed, before it was over. She fought off the dizziness—which didn’t seem to affect him at all—and realized that in the flashing moment she had instinctively grabbed Caine’s shirt, her fingers fisted in the cloth. She swiftly released him, wanting some distance from the disturbing physical contact with the Hunter. She had to stay close to him; she did not have to touch him. Unfortunately, he didn’t drop his arm from around her waist but continued to hold her close.

  Another split second let her realize he was holding her until both of them were able to take stock of their surroundings. It wouldn’t do for her to lurch away from him in surprise, or do anything else that would bring unwanted attention to their abrupt appearance out of thin air.

  They were no longer in the woods, but she doubted they had traveled any great distance. There was snow on the ground here, too, and the atmosphere felt the same. Instead of being surrounded by trees and well-kept homes, they stood near a large blue metal box filled with refuse, with tall buildings rising around them. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, thankful for the cold weather because how noxious would this smell during the summer?

  “Wow!” Elijah shouted. “That was so cool!” He started jumping up and down. “Do it again! Do it again!”

  Caine sighed. “Later.” He searched the area, looking into the big blue box, digging around within it, and coming out with a long, tattered brown canvas bag with a broken strap. He unzipped the bag and, one after another, removed his weapons and stored them inside. He did keep one sheathed knife tucked at his spine. She doubted he was ever without at least one weapon of some sort on his person, and usually more.

  He slipped the canvas bag beneath the blue box, giving it a push so it was well hidden, then he took Lenna’s hand, put his other hand on Elijah’s shoulder, and steered both of them between the buildings toward a broad avenue where loud vehicles on wheels swished back and forth. She stifled her resentment of being pulled along as if she were a pet. She wasn’t stupid; she understood the importance of staying close enough to him that he could shield her energy from the other Hunters.

  “Where are we?” she asked, not letting him see her annoyance because that would give him a power over her, knowing how to prickle her composure.

  “We need somewhere to stay while we work everything out. This is a hotel,” he said, indicating the building beside them. “It’s as good a place as any.”

  She looked up at the hotel, which was constructed of an unimpressive pale brick; many windows lined the building, marching upward in perfect rows that struck her as boring but efficient. They reached the avenue, and she got a better look at the vehicles. There had been nothing like this here the last time she had bothered to study Seven, but evidently what felt like a year or so on Aeonia was a much longer time elsewhere.

  “What are these conveyances called?” she asked, indicating them with a slight movement of her hand.

  “Automobiles,” Caine replied. “There are different types, such as cars, different sizes of trucks, vans, SUVs.”

  His knowledge told her that he’d visited this world often. She herself valued knowledge so much that she wasn’t hesitant at all to ask him questions. “How does one operate them? Do you give them commands? Do they decipher thoughts?”

  Elijah blinked up at her as if she was speaking a different language entirely, his mouth falling open.

  “No,” Caine said. “They are physically steered, using a small wheel inside, and pedals that increase or decrease the speed.”

  “Hmm.” She thought the steering wouldn’t be difficult, but operating different pedals at the same time could be troublesome. Teleporting was much more efficient.

  Caine turned them toward the hotel, and she saw a set of large glass doors … which opened as they approached.

  Neither Caine nor Elijah seemed concerned or impressed by this fact, so Lenna remained silent. Omniscient doors were a convenience she hadn’t considered before.

  Inside the air was warm and had an od
d but pleasing mixture of faint scents, both chemical and floral. Enormous lights hung from a very high ceiling, the floors were both carpeted and tile, and a long desk was situated by one wall. Caine approached the desk, which was manned by an unhappy-looking person in a dark suit. His “May I help you?” was delivered without enthusiasm.

  “I know it’s early,” Caine said, his voice much friendlier than it had been anytime he addressed her. He even smiled, which took her aback before she admitted how absurd it was to be surprised. Of course Hunters would smile, and even laugh, though she doubted Caine did either very often. “Do you by chance have a room? Preferably a suite. We’ve been traveling all night and there are so many slick spots on the road I’d like to wait it out. We might even decide to stay a few days and explore Atlanta.”

  The man at the desk didn’t seem impressed by Caine’s well-delivered story. He began to tap his fingers on something in front of him, something Lenna couldn’t see without standing on her tiptoes and leaning over the high desk, which she refrained from doing. As much as she loved knowledge, she knew they shouldn’t attract undue attention.

  The tapping fingers made a distinctive clicking noise. After a few long moments, the man stopped and looked up at Caine. “We do have one suite available. It’s so early, I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you for last night.”

  “Not a problem.” Caine reached into his back pocket, pulled out a leather wallet, and withdrew a rectangular piece of plastic. He handed the card over to the man, who nodded, called Caine “Mr. Smith,” and again began to tap away on the device at his station.

  Lenna took the opportunity to more closely survey the area. Some things were familiar to her: the furnishings with groups of chairs and sofas and tables, the paintings on the walls, the flowers. Other things were completely foreign. She needed to place her hands on an adult human so she could absorb some of the knowledge of this world. It was annoying to see things and not know what they were called. If she had known she’d be pulled to Seven, she would have studied the recent history and their current technology, though how she could possibly have anticipated her present situation? She couldn’t have.

  Caine and the man at the desk—he wore a name tag that read “Franklin”—continued with their ritual. Another plastic rectangle from Caine’s wallet was passed to the man. Papers were signed. Caine asked if the hotel offered something called “room service” and seemed relieved with the affirmative answer. The plastic rectangles were returned to Caine.

  Franklin—not unhappy, Lenna decided, just bored—placed yet another plastic rectangle in a paper holder and handed it to Caine. She was beginning to think nothing in this place was accomplished without plastic. “Do you have luggage?” he asked.

  “I’ll collect it from the car later,” Caine said. “I wasn’t sure you’d have an availability.”

  Franklin looked down at Elijah, who was pressed against Caine’s side and closely observing every move they made. “Cute kid. He looks like you.”

  Caine gave another smile, though this one seemed a bit tight, and steered both her and Elijah to a large, metal square. He punched a button and the metal door slid apart in two equal pieces, much as the glass doors had operated. Instead of admitting them to a large room, however, the metal doors opened into a box. The three of them stepped inside, Caine punched another button, and the doors closed. There was a slight jolt and the box began moving upward. Briefly alarmed, Lenna braced her hand on a metal bar that ran around the inside the box, then released it because the ascent seemed smooth and uneventful.

  Caine scowled and muttered, “The child does not look like me. How could he?”

  “Perhaps his coloring swayed the man’s judgment,” Lenna offered, because she herself saw nothing alike in their features. Elijah’s face wore the softness of innocence, while she doubted Caine had an innocent bone in his body.

  The customs and manners on Seven concerned her, because she didn’t know what to expect or how she should act. She asked, “Why were you so much nicer to Franklin than you are to Elijah and me?”

  He slanted a brief glance down at her. “I was being pleasant in order to get what I wanted, which was a room in this hotel.”

  “A pretense?”

  She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. “I can be pleasant.”

  Perhaps it wasn’t polite to express doubt, but she didn’t hold back the doubtful noise that formed in her throat. “Indeed? Perhaps you should pretend to be pleasant more often.”

  “Perhaps you should stop interfering with my job.”

  The doors opened and the three of them stepped into a carpeted hallway that was lined with doors, one after another, each door identical but for the number upon it. Elijah said something beneath his breath. Lenna stopped and leaned down so she could see his face.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

  He looked up at her. His lower lip quivered, and his dark eyes were filled with tears. “I said, don’t argue. It makes me sad.”

  Lenna saw more than sadness in his eyes; she saw worry, the kind of worry no child should ever suffer. She suspected his mother and Uncle Bobby had argued before her death. How much had he heard, and seen?

  Caine towered over them all, obviously impatient, but at least he wasn’t towing them down the hall. Lenna looked up at him, gave him a warning look, and said, speaking for them both, “We’re sorry. We won’t argue again.”

  Caine laughed.

  Chapter 8

  The two room suite—a bedroom with a king-sized bed and a parlor with a couch and two chairs, plus a kitchenette with a small table, and a full bathroom in each area—was more than sufficient for their needs. The hotel, an independent rather than a chain, was older than some of the others in the area, but it was hardly a rat trap. It would do; he hoped they wouldn’t be here very long.

  Lenna remained close to his side, so she could stay shielded, but Elijah immediately began wandering around to investigate his new surroundings.

  “Come here,” Caine said briefly to the child, and when he obediently returned, Caine once more pulled both of them close and teleported to the back lot to retrieve his weapons from underneath the big blue trash bin. The complication of taking them everywhere annoyed him; retrieving the bag should have been as simple as thought. Instead, he had to take Lenna with him in order to keep her shielded, and she wouldn’t leave the kid alone even for a couple of minutes—not that the kid wanted to be left alone; he’d probably panic if they both disappeared without him—so by necessity it was a group effort. Caine wasn’t a fan of group efforts. He especially wasn’t a fan of group efforts that included a kid who was overawed by the experience and kept up a never ending rush of questions.

  “How do you do that? You don’t have a magic suit! Who taught you how? Can you teach me?”

  “No,” Caine said briefly. He thought they’d already covered this ground. “You’re too young.” Plus he wasn’t a Hunter, but getting into specifics would likely only invite further questions. He knelt down beside the Dumpster and reached far beneath it so he could snag the bag containing his weapons.

  Further questions evidently didn’t need an invitation.

  Elijah squatted beside him, so close his skinny knees actually bumped Caine’s head. “Do you have to hold your breath?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have to think really hard?”

  “No.” Caine tugged the bag free and tied the ends of the broken strap in a knot so he could more easily carry it.

  Elijah was determined to worm the secret of “poofing” out of him. “Can you take us along without touching us? Do you have to eat spinach? Were you generally altered?”

  That last made Caine pause. “Altered?” The only kind of altering that came to mind was castration, and he suppressed a shudder.

  “Like Captain America. He was generally altered and made strong and fast, but he’s got a magic shield, too.” Elijah pointed at the bag. “You’ve got magic weapons, right?”

  C
aptain America. Right. Caine remembered seeing the movie on television in a hotel one time when he’d been visiting Seven.

  He got to his feet. “That’s genetically altered, and no, I wasn’t. Put your arms around me,” he said to Lenna, while he pulled the kid close with his free hand.

  She had been standing there looking amused while he deflected Elijah’s questions, something that he found vaguely surprising—that she had a sense of humor—but at his direction she slid her arm around his waist and hooked her thumb inside his belt. His muscles involuntarily tightened at her touch; he’d been ignoring, with varying degrees of success, how lithe and warm she felt when he put his arm around her. Having her arm around him was an entirely different sensation, reminding him of how it felt when a female responded to him. He knew he was intimidating to most beings but particularly to females, so he’d learned to appreciate the level of trust signified by a soft arm going around his neck.

  There were first times for everything. This was the first time he’d ever teleported with an erection.

  Then they were back in the hotel room, and the kid immediately started running in circles while emitting high-pitched whooping sounds.

  Caine eased the bag containing his weapons down to the carpeted floor. “Is he always like this?” he muttered to Lenna as he warily watched the boy.

  “It’s better than crying all the time,” she replied, keeping her tone low to match his.

  He stowed the weapons in the back of the closet in the bedroom, though they had no luggage or clothing to hide them from view. It was still the best he could do on short order. He hoped they wouldn’t be here long enough to need extra clothing, but right now he wasn’t feeling optimistic. How was he—they—supposed to find “Uncle Bobby”? They didn’t even know the man’s last name. They knew nothing, had no trail to follow.

  Regardless of the complicated disaster this mission had become, he still functioned better when he was well-fed, and teleporting used an inordinate amount of bodily fuel. “I’m hungry,” he said, looking around for the room service menu, which he picked up and showed to Lenna. “What do you want?”