I look down at her sleeping form and wonder how I could have underestimated her so very badly. In order for the spell I chose to work, there needed to be enough truth between us for her trust to mean something. After all, I couldn’t break her heart properly if it wasn’t me she fell in love with.
It never occurred to me that I’d fall in love with her right back.
Unable to resist the lure of her mouth any longer, I lean over, brushing a long, silky wave of gold off her face. Her lips part when I take them, soft and pliable. But seconds later, she’s kissing me back. Fiercely. Even in her sleep, even with all that’s gone between us, she still wants me. That’s why I keep coming back. Sick as it is, I have to know. Relief nearly buckles my knees as she wraps those arms around me.
Like fire licking up the long line of a fuse, heat traces its way down my spine. Before Seph, physical response was something I hadn't felt in so long, I'd almost forgotten the signs. Almost. She woke me back up. In every possible way.
I can’t go back to sleep. I should hate her for it, because Jack Frost without his icy veneer won’t last long in this world. I haven’t saved either of us yet—not really—and I don’t know if I ever will.
I kiss her harder, groaning when her tongue slides against mine. I want to shake her awake, to pull her into my arms and tell her it was all a lie, those last few minutes between us. When I shut that door and walked away. If I do that, though, she’s dead. I might as well have strangled her with my own two hands that night, just like I was supposed to.
I pull away, as slowly as I can, dragging it out even though that makes it hurt more. I’m already counting the days until I can come back. Her voice stops me before I can turn away.
“Jack?” she murmurs sleepily, a half smile on her lips, her eyes still closed. My chest tightens until it feels like it’s going to crack in two. Then that smile fades and a flash of pain darkens her face.
I let the wind pull me away before she wakes up completely, but I stay close enough to watch. To see her sit up and look around wildly, her fingers going to her lips, before she scrubs the taste of me away. Seph stares up at the stars, and I can hear her cursing her stupid dreams under her breath as she sends the hammock swinging with one impatient foot.
“Fuck you, Jack Frost,” she mutters distinctly, making me smile as she flips off the star-dotted sky with one hand. Minutes later, she curls onto her side and goes back to sleep.
I force myself to leave yet again, wondering if this is ever going to get any easier.
Already knowing it never will.
Just over one year ago…
There has to be a way out of this. A way that doesn’t include him.
But I’ve studied every angle and I can’t see it. Between Cerunnos in sight of reaching his other goals and the rest of the Dark Council’s threat to put a bounty on Seph, I’m out of options. I can’t chance being caught looking out for her, so I need someone who can. Hence the bruin in front of me.
Kivistö stares, his expression somewhere between shock and suspicion.
I shrug. “I thought you should know the truth about the witch you’ve cozied up with.” I keep the bitterness from my tone. At least I think I do. I’ve seen them together. Seph and Georg. It’s not like I haven’t seen her with other men, but he’s the one that really rankles. I always knew the bruin wanted her, knew he’d jump right in when I was gone.
I’ve no fucking right to be jealous, I know this. But I am. All the way to the icy marrow of my bones. I ache to kill the bruin for putting his hands on what’s mine. But I can’t. I need him.
Seph needs him.
“That prophecy?” He snorts. “It’s been around for centuries. It’s bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, Kivistö. They confirmed it ages ago, but now they’re preparing to strike. The Dark Council is done playing nice. You know who leads them and what he’s capable of. You want to keep your toy, you best keep an eye on it.”
“She’s not a toy.” His eyes gleam gold in the growing darkness.
“If you say so. She was pretty amusing to me.” The growl gives him away but even so I barely dodge the huge fist he sends at my head. Maybe I want to be hit. Maybe I want an excuse.
I shake myself and move out of range. “Just keep her close if you care about her at all.”
“Why, Frost? You’re one of them, so why warn me? You never cared about her, it was all an act…” He blinks, nostrils flaring. Slowly, Kivistö straightens, that enormous frame going taut as he sniffs the air. His Majesty grabs my arm in one big paw before I can seize the wind. “Or was it?”
I force a laugh despite the sudden fear squeezing my gut. Shifter senses are nothing to be trifled with. “Don’t be stupid, bruin. I have my own plans. And her getting killed is a headache I don’t want. At least not yet.” There is the sharp edge of ice in my voice. I have to sell this. Nobody is allowed to suspect how I really feel about Seph.
“If you lay another hand on her,” he whispers, “I’ll end you. No matter what it takes.”
“It would take more than you have, Your Majesty.” My magic lashes out at him, turning his hand black with frostbite before he can yank it away. He winces, but shakes it off with a shifter’s casual healing, his skin whole and unblemished in seconds. “My interest in Persephone is not personal, not anymore. I got what I needed from her long ago, remember?” I give him a long, hard smile, watching his lips thin.
For an instant, I think he’s going to try and hit me again, but Kivistö only studies me carefully before nodding once. “You’re a piece of work, Frost. I never want to see you on my land again, understand?”
However I feel about the bruin king, he’s not a stupid man. I don’t think he’s anywhere near convinced, but as long as he protects her, it’ll have to do. I nod shortly. “Fine. Consider it done.”
Even in the darkness I can see the calculating look on his face as the wind takes me away. I don’t like that look, but what choice do I have? I need to keep Seph safe. Even, and especially, from me.
Three months ago…
Despite his wholehearted belief of the prophecy, I get the impression Cerunnos is pissed off that we were right. That one little witch really could touch the power of the gods. Of course, I can barely believe it and I was there. I saw her wielding death and it took my breath away.
Not to mention most of my hope.
“I am not refusing,” I say, aiming to placate as usual. “I am merely suggesting we wait until your plans have aligned.”
“Is that all?” Cerunnos’s voice seems to crackle and stretch across the cavern, sinking skeletal fingers into my chest, trying to dig out the truth. “Somehow I never thought you cared much for my other plans, Frost.”
I shrug. “Perhaps not, but as a tactical move, waiting a bit longer seems best. There are still many who oppose your methods. Going after her on the cusp of your takeover is an unnecessary risk. The backlash from her sisters alone could upend all our work, expose your hold on the Council…and maybe erase it forever.” I can’t resist the dig, reminding the creature in front of me his hold is tenuous at best. I can’t be the only one who suspects what, and who, he really is.
His eyes flash red, but his lips tighten. It’s a solid argument, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. “She’s an abomination, Frost. One that you have sworn to end. Yet nine years later, here we are, still waiting.”
“Waiting,” Loki echoes gleefully, sneering at me with that crazed light in his eyes. “Destroy her before the witch kills again.”
I raise an eyebrow. Loki doesn’t give a shit about Cerunnos’s true magic bullshit or Seph, he just wants to revel in the fallout. Nothing ever changes. “Says the man with the blood of thousands on his hands.”
“No more than you, Jokul. No more than you.” That’s not really fair. The deaths my elements have caused in hundreds of winters are innumerable, but I still say that makes me better than Loki, who revels in these vicious and deadly games.
Perhaps I’
m fooling myself. Chaos is natural, too. Despite his faults, Loki has always followed the rules. He’d never go so far as to upend the planet, turn life and death inside out and upset the balance between his element and order.
Seph will.
I remember the things I have been shown, things I would do anything to forget.
Everyone is capable of madness. I know that. Everyone. The only difference is what drives us there. I’ve no idea what happens to her, but the future holds a Persephone out of her mind. The results are quite terrifying.
With a whisper of sound, one of the shadows at the edge of the room detaches itself from the others.
The Veiled One. The urge to shiver comes and goes as I watch her approach. Diaphanous black drapes her form from head to toe. She may not even be female, but something about the way she moves always convinces me that she is.
“You saw what she did on that beach.” Her voice also hints at female. A cruel one. She’s been with the Dark Council far fewer years than I, but a more ruthless member I’ve never seen. This one is always utterly confident in every decision she makes. A side effect of being able to see the future. “Have you forgotten that is the least of what she’s capable of?”
Her vision seeps into my mind. I fight it, but it’s like a poisonous gas, taking over, forcing me to see what I’ve tried so many times to forget.
Brighton Beach, the same stretch of lakeshore where Seph so recently kissed me. It’s high summer and the wild grass edging the rocky shore is a vibrant green, the park filled with tourists and fitness-minded locals. The lake stretches to the horizon, a vast cloak of shimmering blue, wrapping around the small sample of humanity barbecuing, running, skipping rocks and looking for agates, along with a few brave souls swimming. Above them the sky darkens slowly, boiling to a ghastly orange-black. The waves turn rust colored and angry, spitting high up onto the rocky shore as the smell and taste of iron fills the air. The laughter ringing over the park turns to sobs and screams as the children fall first, little bodies limp and still.
The parents are next, crumbling en masse to the ground, the eerie shadows caused by the shattered sky making the whole scene look like something out of a postapocalyptic nightmare.
They rise to their feet moments later, one by one, their eyes a uniform burned-out black. Blank, empty, but I can feel them screaming inside. Dead eyes in living bodies. It’s wrong. The wrongness crawls over my skin and makes my veins want to slither away. Bile burns my throat. What power brings the dead to life?
I fight not to sink to the floor of the cave, my legs shaky as the vision blows away, the remnants of those screams lingering in my head.
But what the hell do I care about them? It’s her that matters to me, not anyone else.
Isn’t it?
I’d always thought I didn’t have a heart at all. Turns out it was only waiting for someone to thaw it out. The problem is, once your heart starts working properly, it’s real hard to shut the damn thing off.
You did this to me, princess. You made me care.
It may be the death of both of us.
The Veiled One inclines her head, her voice quiet and cold. “This is the future if Persephone Gosse lives—the only future, Jack Frost. She must be killed. If it’s anyone but you, more lives will be lost than necessary.”
Cerunnos’s eyes gleam red. He doesn’t give a damn about lives lost, he just wants someone to rule over once his plans are complete. “No more stalling. By the winter solstice, that witch will be dead. Are we agreed?”
It almost makes me laugh, the hand of fate all too clear in the way his deadline neatly mirrors Oriane’s. But the sound sticks in my throat, as do the words I know I must say. I’ve already sworn to kill her. Repeating the vow shouldn’t be so difficult, but my skin tightens with dread. Like saying it out loud this time will make it real.
I have to force myself to look up into those blood-colored eyes, telling myself it’s a lie, even as every syllable reverberates in my head and turns to ash in my mouth.
“Persephone Gosse will be dead by sundown on Yule.”
Christmas Day…
“You did it?”
There is a note of disbelief in the sonorous voice, which would be morbidly amusing except for my current state. He’s not nearly as surprised as I am by the events that took place in that goddamn cabin.
“I did.” Whispers skitter around the chamber like dead leaves being stirred by a restless winter wind. I stare at Cerunnos with tired eyes. I haven’t slept for three days. The last time I did, it was with Seph in my arms.
That’s over now.
Forever.
“Well done,” he continues after the silence between us stretches out. “Now I can turn my attention to more important concerns.” My jaw ticks, but I say nothing. Really, there’s nothing else to say.
Cerunnos turns to Loki. “Did you give the werewolf alpha her ‘cure,’ as promised?” The god of chaos steps from the shadows, a smile on his lips that falters when he looks at me, but then his focus returns.
“I did. She’ll recover for a while as planned, then the sickness will descend again, threefold. They’ve gone to the ‘refuge’ you created for them.” Gleeful malice tinges Loki’s tone.
It’s also reflected in Cerunnos’s slow smile. “Good. One way or the other, they should be dead by spring. Then we can finish off the other packs in the Americas. Once things are cleansed here, we’ll reach out to Europe.” Good luck with that, you bastard. The Old World pantheon will surely destroy him, history repeating itself. But Cerunnos won’t get that far. I’ve been making a list and he’s on it. Not in first place, but right up there. My hands clench, struggling to keep my face impassive.
“And the vampires?” Loki asks.
Cerunnos’s teeth gleam even in the shrouded gloom he prefers. “The wasting sickness can be spread more quickly now. By the time the wolves fall, the bloodsuckers won’t be far behind.”
“That leaves only the witches, then.” I catch Loki’s sidelong look at me, but I ignore it.
“That piece is last for a reason.” Cerunnos sounds irritated. “Spellwork has become a crutch for far too many races. Witches are looked on with far more favor than the other usurpers. Even in my new Council, I see their twisted influence.” He sighs, then smiles at me. “But we’ve proven we can single out one from the herd with impunity. Perhaps a few key others can fall as well. Pity there’s not a prophecy that gives cause to eliminate the rest. Maybe we could search for one.” He looks for the veiled woman, but she’s not in her usual spot. There are many empty spaces now. Many minions off carrying out Cerunnos’s work. “I will think on it. Perhaps you can help me there, Frost.”
I stand silent as his bloodred gaze finds mine, I incline my head and follow Cerunnos when he exits the chamber. I can feel the eyes on my back with every step I take, hear the whispers, but I don’t turn.
It really doesn’t matter what they think.
Nothing matters.
Except that she’s gone.
If they thought I was cold before, they haven’t seen anything yet. I watch Cerunnos’s back, thinking of something I heard a while back.
Winter is most definitely coming, you son of a bitch.
1
I walk into the abandoned bar, my boots ringing hollowly on the wooden floor. Unbidden, my eyes flicker to the loft. My jaw clenches. Toil & Trouble has been closed for months, but I flinch every time I walk past the bar and she’s not behind it.
Her assistant manager has locked up all the liquor, though her sisters haven’t started looking for a buyer. They’re still in shock—like the rest of the FTC world, though that’s for reasons other than one small witch. It feels like everyone has been holding their breath since Yule. Everyone knows which way the wind is blowing. Werewolves are contracting moon madness and dying in droves. The wasting sickness is laying very literal waste to the vampires.
And here and there, witches are beginning to vanish.
My lips twist as I th
ink of Persephone’s sisters again. I assume they don’t know that I break in here, because they haven’t tried to stop me. And they would. The Gosse sisters are out for blood and I’m first in line. On the flip side, Cerunnos remains delighted with me. Even Loki has stopped needling me these past few months. There’s a wary shadow in those mad eyes whenever he looks at me now.
Or maybe that’s my own guilt reflected back at me.
I kick open her stubborn office door. It’s shadowy and cool in here. And it still smells like her, though that’s fading with every day that passes. I sink into the chair behind the desk, my fingers lightly touching the leather armrests, remembering when I wrapped my hands around them and yanked her to me. The look in her eyes. The fiery, sweet taste of her mouth.
I reach for the bottle of Jameson’s in the bottom drawer. I set it on the blotter and stare at it before taking a long, slow drink. My lips touching a memory of hers.
Gods, I’m crazy, and getting crazier every day. Cerunnos is getting his every wish, one by one. The whole world is falling apart around me. But there is only one thing on my mind.
Seph.
Tonight I’m going to watch her die all over again. It happens every time I let my eyes close for more than a few seconds. Maybe it’s psychological—a self-inflicted punishment, but it’s no more than I deserve.
That’s not the worst of it, though. What’s worse is that I crave it. More than fueling my need for vengeance, dreaming about her death means I get to see Seph again. To taste and feel and touch, if only in my mind.
I take another sip of the whiskey, lean back in her chair and wait for it. I’m exhausted, so this shouldn’t take long, not here where the scent of her surrounds me like a lover’s touch. My eyelids close, shadows flickering at the edges of my darkening vision. I think I see a flash of gold, but then it’s gone and so am I.
The dream starts the same way. Every time. I can’t move, locked in a powerful body that can only slide helplessly to that scarred hardwood floor. A witch’s most frightening power is the unholy gift of soul magic. There isn’t another creature on any plane that can steal souls. It’s why Cerunnos fears them even more than he hates them. I never expected to have such a power directed at me. Honestly, who could ever get close enough?
Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3) Page 2
