Glancing over her shoulder, she shot out her arm. “Go, maiden. Take the children with you!”
The maiden nodded and dropped her hands on the children’s shoulders. Gerda had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, burying her face in her furry mittens. But Kai stared at the macabre death with a solemn, almost deadened impression. The little boy never blinked once, and even when the maiden tugged on his shoulder, he stood stock still and unyielding.
Alador, who Luminesa hadn’t noticed until then, came forward and, setting his hands beneath the boy’s arms, lifted him high and twisted about so he could settle the child on his back end.
“Hold on tight, Kai,” he said in his thick, gravelly voice.
Whether it was the command in Alador’s voice or just the fact that the boy was in shock, Kai listened and clung to the long ends of Alador’s hair like horses’ reins.
Then taking up Gerda in the same manner he’d done for Kai, Alador sat her behind the younger child.
“I will check the halls once I’ve settled them. I’ll be back soon,” he said.
And Luminesa knew those words had been for her alone.
Alador turned and trotted off.
The maiden was about to follow suit, but Luminesa held out her hand instead. “Maiden—”
The woman touched her left breast. “I am called Astrid.”
Odd that she’d never named them, and yet it seemed to Luminesa that they had a mind all their own already.
In times past, Luminesa wouldn’t have bothered seeking any sort of outside counsel, accustomed as she was to her solitude, but in that strange place full of dark magick, she’d take any help she could.
“Astrid, then”—she nodded in acknowledgment—“did you happen to see who did this?”
“No, mistress,” Astrid said softly, her frost-tipped lashes feathering gently across her blue cheeks as she blinked rapidly. “I came here to tend to the fires, as is my duty, and noticed the door ajar. That was what caused me to investigate in the first place.”
A horrible feeling sank its claws deep into Luminesa’s belly.
“So you saw no one, and nothing?”
Tossing out her arms in a gesture of what appeared to be bewildered worry, Astrid shook her head once more. “I wish I could tell you more, mistress.”
Luminesa looked back down at Antigua, or at least what was left of her. The silvery specks floating in the water caused the fine hairs on the back of Luminesa’s neck to rise.
Running her hand across the puddle, not touching but just moving it over the top, she felt a faint wave of violent darkness. Curling her fingers tightly back to her side, she grimaced as that foulness continued to cause her flesh to tingle. She needed to question the other maidens, to see if anyone had heard or seen anything.
But deep down, she knew that death to be the work of the enchanted mirror.
Standing, she dusted her hands off on her gown, trying to rid herself of the leeching sensation still clinging to her left palm. “Thank you, Astrid. I think I should—”
The air tightened, quickened with that same foulness of spirit that rested in the silvery flecks of water.
Twirling on her heels, she pointed at the door. “Go, Astrid. Speak to the others. Find out if anyone saw or heard anything last night or this morning. Now go,” she whispered urgently.
It must have been that urgency that moved Astrid. Without saying a word, she bobbed her head, turned, and ran out the doors of the study just seconds before the Under Goblin himself materialized before Luminesa.
And unlike last time, he was not scratched up or disheveled. He’d taken care with his appearance, had combed his dark black hair back, causing the thick golden hoops in his pointed green ears to glimmer. Wearing a blazing sunset-orange vest and royal blue silk pants, he cut an exotic and striking figure, standing out boldly against the pale blue and white of the icy castle.
Glancing around, his black eyes studied the room. Whistling beneath his breath, he then turned that hard, obsidian gaze on her.
“You did this,” she said, wasting no time with the accusation.
“Moi?” He patted his chest, causing the deep vee of his blouse to part, revealing the thick ropes of golden chains around his neck. “Don’t be absurd, my love.”
Clenching her teeth, she took a step closer to him. “I am not your love. I am not anything to you. What is this?” She pointed her hand at the body. “What have you done?”
Leaning on a corner of the desk, he pulled out his knife and began playing the tip beneath his thumbnail.
“Say I know what’s happened.” He shrugged, giving her a pout that had nothing at all to do with contrition or remorse. “And say that perhaps I also know why…does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
Her eyes widening, Luminesa twirled at the sound of Alador’s deep timbre. She’d forgotten that he’d promised to return.
He stood in the doorway, a powerful and brawny centaur male. His malachite eyes burned with fury as he stared down at the Goblin, who even at his full height would only come to chest level on him.
And the cold that’d encased Luminesa’s heart at the sight of the Under Goblin thawed just a little, and against her will, her lips flinched into a smile of welcome.
But Alador hadn’t seen it. He’d been too focused on the Under Goblin’s cruel sneer. He walked forward, and his hooves were silent as he came and stood next to Luminesa.
And it was silly that she should feel safe with him, because she was more than strong enough to take care of herself when it came to the Goblin, but she did feel safe.
His thick arms crossed an equally impressive thick chest as Alador glared hotly down at the Goblin.
Though Luminesa suspected it’d been Alador who’d given the Goblin the scratches the other day, the Goblin didn’t cower from the centaur’s withering stare.
Still with that mocking thread of laughter in his words, the Goblin said, “You really wish to know? Don’t care to play the game? Come on. It’ll be fun.”
She growled at him. That he called it a game, even as the dead body of her ice maiden melted between them, made her want to retch.
And he only laughed, holding up his hands. “Right, no love. Then…my frosty little bitch it is. The silver, it’s my glass, if you haven’t figured it out yet.” Then looking back around the room, he nodded as though coming to some grand conclusion. “I do like the look of this place. I think I’ll keep it when I turn you human.”
She closed her eyes at those words. “I loathe you.”
He snorted. “As though you’re the first to say so.” His chuckle was brash and patronizing.
She opened her eyes. “Tell me what you’ve done. Was this another ice demon attack?”
“I told you I would make your life hell, and I have.” He chuckled, crossing his legs at the ankle as he leaned against the corner of the desk.
Alador growled, balling his hands into fists. “I will beat you bloody.”
“My, what a temper.” The Goblin planted a hand against his chest dramatically. “Fine. You really wish to know, I’ll tell you, though it’s so disappointing that you won’t at least try to figure out the riddle.” He shrugged when Alador grunted, taking another step forward. Then holding up his hands, the Goblin muttered, “Fine. Fine. It was the girl. Gerda.” His smile was a cruel sneer.
Her heart sank. “Gerda? But she couldn’t have. She was just here, smiling, and—”
“But. But. But. But. But,” the Goblin stuttered. “Oh yes”—he laughed—“I can assure you it was her. I spelled the silver into her eyes. She never even knew what she’d done. That’s the beauty of the silver, you see. The victim has no clue just how evil they’ve become.”
Luminesa’s heart clenched as she clutched her fingers to her breast.
Alador swore beneath his breath, spitting out the words as though they tasted foul on his tongue.
The Under Goblin tipped his head back and laughed with gusto.
�
�I don’t believe you. You must be lying,” Luminesa said. “You wouldn’t just tell us your plan, just like that?”
He snorted, rolling his eyes. “It matters not if you know my plan. You can’t change it. It’s inevitable. Tomorrow, tonight, this afternoon, I could infect the eyes of another, and you can’t stop me, Queen. Because you won’t even know I’m here. You won’t know who to trust or where I’ll strike next. The perfect hell. By the way, how did you like my ice demons? What fun, eh? Be sure to give them my warmest regards when next you see them.”
And then with a finger wave and a laugh that echoed through the room, he was gone. Silence descended like a heavy shroud, making her feel as though she suffocated on the oxygen she was sucking down.
Alador moved his hands to her shoulders, turning her around so that she looked up at him.
His brows were drawn tightly, and she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. What the Under Goblin had done was so much worse than what she could have imagined.
“Gerda did this. Killed this maiden, and she has no clue,” Luminesa whispered, feeling cold in a way she never had before, deep to the very heart of her soul.
Alador shook his head. “And she doesn’t need to know. Do you understand? This doesn’t need to rest on her conscience.”
She blinked, understanding the wisdom of his words but feeling dead and numb inside.
“And tomorrow? And the next day, and the day after that? What then, Alador? He will strike again. How do we stop this? Stop the demons at night and the children from harming others during the day?”
He pulled her tightly to his chest and hugged her.
And it was hard to explain what his touch did to her. He was so warm, so deliciously warm in a way that felt incredible, that made her toes tingle and her head fill with a dizzying rush of blood.
Luminesa was still shaking from the oppressive weight of that news, but another part of her, one equally as strong, reveled in the feel of his arms, in the familiar scent of him—like pine and earth. She buried her face in his chest and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths.
He rubbed his hand gently up and down her back in a soothing motion. Once she’d finally stopped shaking, he pulled away just a little, looking her deep in her eyes.
“Okay now?”
No, she wasn’t okay. Nothing about that was okay. But she was at least not quite so shaken up. Everything was wrong. But there was still hope for them. All they had to do was find that key.
“I’m okay.” She nodded.
“Good, then perhaps it is time to deal with Antigua.”
Again, he was right.
Sucking the corner of her lip into her mouth, she nibbled on it before looking back at the body. She’d have to return Antigua back to the ice she’d been.
But first, she’d need to extract the glass particles from it.
“Horse, I am glad you are here,” she mumbled, not daring to look up at him and hoping she hadn’t said the wrong thing just then.
With a shake of her head, she dropped to her knees. Raising her palms over the body, she focused on separating the ice from the silver, sort of like separating the wheat from the chaff. The process was painstaking and delicate.
Her arms trembled and ached each time a wave of that dark power curled off just one tiny powdery fragment of it.
Alador knelt on the other side of Antigua, but Luminesa felt his eyes on her. Caressing her, studying her.
She swallowed but said nothing, and he respected her silence, letting her work.
After at least an hour, she’d finally separated all traces of the silver from Antigua’s form. They were gathered in a pile beside Luminesa.
Weaving more of her ice magic, she created a glass jar and—with a command to the wind—whipped the small pile up and into the jar and sealed it tight.
She was finally able to breathe once the stickiness of that evil had been locked away. She could then hide that bit of silver from the Goblin. Luminesa knew he had more, far more to harm them with, but the more she kept hidden from him, that at least was one less thing to worry about.
Clenching her jaw, she took a minute to breathe.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She was about to say yes when his hand landed on her shoulder. Luminesa froze.
Her breath. Her body. Even her heartbeat. Everything inside of her stilled at the fiery contact of skin to skin. That time, his touch was far more intense than it’d been during the hug.
His palm was work-roughened but nice. Warm. So very, very warm.
Her body screamed to coat herself in ice again, to cast him out, cast out his touch, his nearness, to demand he release her and move away.
But she could hardly remember how to form words, let alone speak. And beneath his palm, her flesh thawed. Turned from ice to supple, smooth skin, and though every other part of her was frozen, that bit of warmed flesh made her feel…hot. Alive. Excited.
She shuddered. And he snatched his hand back, looking down at it in apparent wonder. What had he felt?
He exhaled a jet of frost from between his lips.
“Did you take my cold?” she asked softly, almost terrified to pierce the heavy veil of tension that flowed between them.
He grabbed his hand with his other and pressed it to his chest, as though hugging it. “You took my warmth.”
Not a question. But she nodded anyway.
“Did it hurt?” she asked him.
His green eyes were brighter than a spring meadow after a heavy rain as he shook his head.
“Me either,” she admitted almost shyly.
Her breath sawing out of her, she turned back to Antigua. If she couldn’t get physical distance between her and Alador, she could at least get back to the task at hand.
Grabbing hold of the poor maiden’s hand, Luminesa breathed the song of returning, and immediately, the body separated into thousands of flakes of shimmering ice and snow, gathering up into a spiral that danced and swirled in the stiff breeze, and for just a moment, it echoed with the laughter of winter.
And then Antigua was gone, returned to the world she’d been crafted from.
Before Alador could do it again, Luminesa swept up her gown so that she could stand. She grabbed the glass jar full of that deadly silver, hugged it tightly to her breast, and looked at him as though she were a mouse and he were the falcon.
He wore no shirt. The weather conditions outside were dangerously cold to anyone but her, but he didn’t seem fazed by it, even though his dark flesh was pebbled with goose bumps.
Alador took a step toward her, and suddenly terrified, though she couldn’t hope to understand why, Luminesa gathered the hem of her skirts, turned, and ran far from there.
She knew he wouldn’t follow, but still, she didn’t stop running. Once her foot hit the bottom landing of the stairwell, she transformed into a tower of swirling snow and didn’t stop until she was again back in that quiet corner of the castle, outside and at one with the world she loved so well.
Baatha’s shrill scream alerted her to the fact that though she was by then nothing but snow, her familiar sensed her presence and returned to greet her.
He landed gracefully on the balustrade, and his piercing golden eyes stared directly at her. In her wintery hands, she still held the silver.
Antigua had been so broken, brutally slaughtered by the hands of a small child. And normally, that act of violence would have been enough to harden Luminesa’s heart toward the humans she housed, but she knew Gerda hadn’t known what she’d been forced to do. She probably had no memory at all of the violence she’d committed under the Goblin’s bidding.
Luminesa would need to be more vigilant in watching the children, along with keeping guard against the ice demons…not to mention the confusing riots of emotion she felt whenever Alador was near.
Baatha cried.
And in his cry, she heard his words.
It wasn’t the Goblin or the murder you ran from but the centaur male. Why?
&nb
sp; The wind howled with her words, echoing through the dead forest of skeletal trees.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know…”
Chapter 9
Alador
He’d looked for her throughout the rest of the day, but she’d vanished as surely as the Under Goblin had.
And though the castle was still warmed by magical white flames that refracted with every color of the rainbow, and a bounty of foods was set out for him and the children whenever one of them so much as stepped foot in the dining hall, the castle felt strangely empty without her in it.
He suspected she might be guarding the castle, ensuring no harm befell them. But he also suspected very strongly that she’d run away from him that morning.
Because of that touch. That touch that’d rocked him to his very core.
He sighed. The only thing he’d been able to do after that was to keep a close eye on the children and make sure nothing happened to them, or against anyone else.
But they’d been happy…or rather as happy as could be expected under those conditions. Even Kai had come out of his shell a little and was laughing with Gerda as they’d eaten their lunch of soup and sandwiches.
Once they were done, Alador had taken the children to explore the castle proper, eventually stumbling into a room that had been created with the express purpose of being a child’s paradise. It had an endless array of plush toys, dazzling costumes for play, and stacks of children’s books.
The children had run into the room with delight, and he’d sat in a corner, taking turns glancing out the ice-paned window as he looked for her.
The children had settled down finally, playing quietly with each other, giggling over an icy checkerboard as Gerda bested Kai in a second round.
They’d had their fill of candies and sweets. It seemed whenever the children even mentioned it, a silver tray of Turkish delights would appear before them, only to be gobbled down in the very next instant.
She had done that. Provided above and beyond what she’d needed to and asked for no words of praise in return. She truly sought nothing from them.
Alphas for the Holidays Page 147
