Miss Frost Braves The Blizzard: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 5)

by Kristen Painter

  “Not yet. I’ll keep digging, though.”

  “Okay, call me if you find any names. I can have my dad run them through ER and see what comes up.”

  Birdie’s eyes narrowed. “ER?”

  “Elf Resources.”

  “Oh, right. Okay, will do. Have a good day at work.”

  “You too.” I walked back to the shop, a little dejected at how things had gone. I’d expected to come home, snow globe in hand and the matter behind me. Well, as behind me as it could be without knowing why Myra had been obsessed with my family.

  As it stood, the matter was at the forefront of my mind. Good thing I had my shift at the store. Since there wasn’t much paperwork to do this week, I’d be in the shop with Kip and Juniper, and that would be fun. It would be more like hanging out than work. That would be good.

  And it was. The day went by faster than I’d thought possible. We laughed and talked and took care of the few customers who came in, all while slipping back to polish off the doughnuts I’d brought from Sinclair’s. Kip went to Howler’s to pick up lunch (pulled pork sandwiches with coleslaw and fries), and by the end of the day shift when Buttercup and Holly came in, I’d almost forgotten about Myra and the snow globe.

  Almost.

  Birdie hadn’t called, so I had nothing new to report to my dad. I was pretty aware of that. But there wasn’t much I could do about it either.

  Juniper was going out with Pete, and Sinclair and I hadn’t made any plans, so I spent the evening binge-watching a season of British murder mysteries, snacking on candy corn (I buy out the after-Halloween sales) and playing with Spider.

  I probably should have gone for a walk to see the Christmas lights one more time before they were taken down this week, but it got dark so early in the winter that I couldn’t muster the energy. The weather had been reasonably nice too. So nice that, before I went to bed, I opened the window a crack for Spider. “Here you go, baby.”

  He trotted over and hopped up.

  “No pushing the screen out,” I said to him, giving him my best stern-mother face. I modeled it after the one my mother had always used on me. “Aunt Birdie told me what happened while I was away.”

  Spider stared up at me with big, round Puss-In-Boots eyes. It was the look he gave me when he knew he was in trouble. Like the time I’d foolishly left a six-pack of toilet paper on the bathroom counter and come home to what looked like a blizzard in my apartment thanks to his shredding abilities.

  He blinked up at me. “Spider got new collar.”

  Classic distraction ploy. “Yes, I know all about that too. And I’m very glad you didn’t get hurt or lost or worse. Just be careful when you sit on the windowsill, okay?”

  “’Kay. Spider loves Mama.”

  “I love you too.” I bent and kissed his head. “You rascal.”

  I made sure his food bowls were full, then I went off to bed to read. At some point, I fell asleep with my tablet in my hands. I know this because I woke up to Spider sitting on the tablet, which was on my chest.

  “Oof, Spider, you’re crushing me.” He’d put on a little weight lately. Not surprising, considering how he ate. “And why is it so dark in here? And so cold?”

  “Winter has come, Mama.”

  “I’d say so.” I’d also say Spider was picking up too much of what I watched on television. I blinked, trying to see him better, but it was so dang dark. I kept an LED night-light in the bathroom that normally spilled a little soothing blue light into the hall, but I must have forgotten to turn it on.

  I climbed out of bed, pulled on my robe and hustled into the living room to shut the window I’d left open. About a yard from the window, my bare feet slipped out from under me.

  “Whoa!” I grabbed the edge of the couch to catch myself and realized what I was standing on.

  Ice.

  I skated to the window and tried to shut it, but it was frozen in place. Just like my feet were about to be if I stood here much longer. There was no ambient light coming from the street, and no light coming from the microwave clock or cable box, meaning my apartment was pitch black. I went to the kitchen to flip a light on, but nothing happened when I hit the switch. This was crazy. What kind of snowmageddon had hit us that the power was out? I didn’t even remember the forecast calling for snow.

  Putting my hands on the window frame, I used my magic to absorb all of the cold, freezing it in place into myself. I shivered as it passed through me, an incredibly powerful cold unlike anything I could remember feeling in a long time. After a few moments, the window budged.

  Absorbing cold was one of my least-used skills, but at the moment, I was glad to have it. I got the window shut and went into the kitchen, feeling my way along the counter until I came to the junk drawer.

  I dug around in there for a flashlight. I knew I had one. Kip had given us all one for Christmas. It was some tactical thing that supposedly worked under water or frozen and had some megawatt powerful beam and about three or four settings that were supposed to be useful in emergency situations.

  Pretty sure this qualified.

  I pushed the button to turn it on and nearly blinded myself. I blinked a few times to get the spots out of my eyes and still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Ice and snow had spilled through the couple inches of open window and halfway into my living room.

  No wonder I’d nearly busted my butt. “Snowballs.”

  Spider sat at the edge of the frozen puddle, batting at it with one paw. The flashlight beam cast his shadow on the living room wall, making him about ten feet tall. “Winter is here, Mama.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Winter is here, Mama.”

  I snorted, even though there was nothing remotely funny about the mess. At least I had the skills to clean it up. I got my new jar candle lit, this one a Christmas gift from Juniper. It was appropriately scented Sugar Cookie. The smell was incredible.

  Then, flashlight in hand, I jogged back to the bedroom and put on sweat pants and a sweat shirt and my new thick wool socks. You guessed it, another Christmas present. They were from my aunt Martha and had been part of a larger package that had included a scarf and hat. Which I might also be putting on if the power didn’t return and kick the heat back on soon.

  Sure, I was a winter elf, but even we got cold in the right circumstances. And this was one of those, because this chill was more than just your standard winter. It was ice age cold.

  “Spider, are you warm enough?” Because Aunt Martha had sent a matching sweater, scarf and hat for Spider as well. No socks, though. Apparently a sweater, scarf and hat were just fine, but socks for a cat were a bridge too far. My family. Adorable. “Do you want to put on the sweater Aunt Martha made you?”

  “Mama, Spider already has fur.”

  “Yes, you do. I just want to make sure you’re not getting cold, even with that fur. There’s no heat on right now, baby. You tell me if you get chilly, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  With the flashlight on, I could see my breath, which was a strange thing for a winter elf. My phone buzzed, reminding me that not everything was dead. At least it wasn’t for as long as the battery lasted.

  I checked the screen. A text from Sinclair.

  You’re probably still sleeping, but I just got up to find the power out. Looks like we got hit with a major storm. Text me when you’re up. I want to know you’re okay.

  I smiled. That guy. I’m okay. Up because Spider woke me. No power here either. I think the whole town’s out. You okay?

  All good here. Guess I won’t be opening today unless power comes back on.

  Us either, I texted back. You think they’ll open some shelters? It’s really cold.

  Weirdly cold. Yes to the shelters. Humans will need a place to stay warm.

  So will the rest of us if the sun doesn’t add a few degrees. Maybe not the vampires. They were technically already dead, and that was about as cold as you could get. Sin hadn’t suffered too much when Lark had froz
en us all at the Black and Orange Ball, so that made me think his necromancer abilities offered him some protection from the cold too.

  True. I’m going to the sheriff’s department when it’s light out.

  I’ll meet you there.

  Good. Save your battery until then. And be safe.

  You too. I went to stick the phone in my pocket, but my sweat pants didn’t have any. I carried it back out to the living room and set it on the counter next to the jar candle.

  Then, flashlight in hand, I went to the window for a look outside. The window was almost entirely covered with frost.

  Not just any frost. Fancy, swirling, feathery lines of it. I stopped in my tracks. That frost looked familiar. But how was that possible? It wasn’t. Not here. I laughed it off. Frost was frost. Except I wasn’t sure that was true. But I’d never seen a big storm like this anywhere but in the North Pole. It was very possible that big storms just naturally formed that kind of distinct pattern of frost.

  I stood on my tiptoes to try to see out above the iced-over part of the window, but I couldn’t get high enough. I pulled a dining chair over, got it positioned on a non-icy spot and climbed up on it. I shone the light down to the street one floor below.

  Everything the flashlight beam hit glittered white. Everything. The street, the streetlamps, the walls of the buildings. The snow and ice went on as far as I could see in every direction. And the snow flurries were still coming down. The town looked like it had been iced in dazzling, blue-white buttercream. It was beautiful.

  And horrifying.

  Nocturne Falls was frozen in. And without power. A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

  I tried to be calm. The sun would come up and melt some of this. I hoped. In the meantime, I needed to deal with the small glacier that ran from the window into my living room.

  A couple long seconds of thought and I’d formulated a plan. I could absorb the cold from the snow and ice, but that wouldn’t do anything about the water that would be left behind, which meant I’d have a small pond in my apartment. That could create more issues, like leaking through the ceiling into the warehouse below. I didn’t want my floor ruined or any of the merchandise downstairs to get damaged.

  That meant removing the snow and ice while it was still snow and ice. I could do that. I opened the window again. Wide this time. The gust of cold that came in sank through to my bones and put me into overdrive.

  I turned toward the mess, held my hands out and focused on levitating it up and out. It creaked as the force of my magic worked to detach it from the floor. It was an eerie, wintery sound that reminded me of the snow cyclones that occasionally came through the NP, but the ice refused to budge.

  I dropped my hands for a second and rolled my shoulders. I could do this. I thrust my hands forward again, demanding the ice and snow obey me.

  With more unnatural groans of protest, it lifted like a giant shelf of ice. I moved my hands, floating it out the window. With no light to see by, it was impossible to tell how far down to the street it was, but I couldn’t just drop the ice for fear of damaging whatever might be in its path. At least there had been no one around, so I felt certain I wasn’t about to drop it on anyone’s head. I held on to my magical grip and kept lowering it slowly until I heard the crunch of it connecting with something. The sidewalk? I had no idea, but only then did I let go.

  The sounds of ice shattering and metal bending filled the unnerving quiet. Nope, not the sidewalk. I cringed, hoping I hadn’t demolished someone’s car.

  This kind of frozen nightmare reminded me of the Black and Orange Ball and the deep freeze my old frenemy Lark had put everyone in so she could mastermind a jewel heist, but this couldn’t be Lark’s doing. She was in a deep freeze of a different kind. The North Pole Women’s Correctional Facility.

  This was winter magic all right, but not Lark’s, and not the good kind.

  Fortunately, my phone wasn’t the only thing that didn’t need electricity to run. I used the flashlight to find the end table next to my couch. I picked up the snow globe.

  If anyone would know what to do in a situation like this, it was my father. As the Winter King, he was technically in charge of winter. And like Spider had pointed out, winter had most definitely arrived.

  He answered quicker than I expected. “Hi, honey. You’re up late. Or early. What’s going on?”

  “Daddy!” Apparently being snowed in and powerless made me a little needy. “Something really weird is going on.”

  He nodded. “Is that why you’re talking to me in the dark?”

  “Yes! The power is out. There’s been a horrible winter storm. The town is completely frozen over.”

  “The power isn’t out in the building, is it?”

  “Yes, but hang on. You haven’t had any kind of magical malfunction, have you?”

  “Are you asking me if I caused the storm?”

  “Maybe.”

  He snorted. “My magic is just fine, thank you.”

  So much for that.

  “Now listen, the building shouldn’t be without power. We installed a generator system. It should have kicked on, but if you don’t have electricity, then something’s wrong. The number for the company who did the work should be in your office files. Maybe they can send someone out to fix it.”

  “I’m sure they could if we weren’t completely snowed in. I mean completely, Dad. Everything is covered.”

  He sighed. “Let me think.” After a few seconds, he spoke again. “Okay, take me downstairs and let me see if I can figure this out.”

  “All right, just give me a sec to get everything together.” I gathered my flashlight, slipped some shoes on, and grabbed my phone. I held my flashlight and my phone in one hand, and in the other I held the snow globe. Then I remembered something. “Oh man.”

  “What now?”

  I frowned. “I’m going to have to take the stairs. You know, because no electricity means no elevator.”

  My dad laughed. “A little exercise will be good for you.”

  “Right,” I said. “Spoken like a true parent.”

  “Don’t forget your office key. I can’t remember if there’s a lock on the generator or not, but if there is, the key for it will either be in your office or it’ll be the same as your office key.”

  “In that case, I’m going to need my purse. I only have two hands.” I threw my purse strap over my head and across my body, then stuck my phone and keys into it.

  Armed with the flashlight and the snow globe, I left my apartment. The hall was a little spooky. Very quiet and pitch black. Except of course, for my flashlight. But it was casting weird shadows everywhere, and I was already slightly creeped out to begin with.

  I made my way to the stairs and pushed through the door. The staircase was worse than the hall. Here the shadows went long and angular, and every sound echoed, making me feel like I wasn’t alone in the stairwell. Snow globe clutched against my side, I jogged down to the warehouse, anxious to get off the stairs. I wasn’t the kind who ever went to haunted houses, so this was sort of pushing the limits of scary for me.

  With great relief, I walked into the warehouse. But the light from my torch turned the racks of inventory into all kinds of strange, monstrous shapes. Why had I never realized what a perfect setting this place was for a slasher movie?

  “Hey,” my dad said.

  I jumped. “Oh, I forgot you were there.”

  “Sorry, but you looked a little freaked out.”

  “I am. I don’t like being in this much dark. This is not fun.”

  “Don’t worry,” my dad said. “We’re about to have the lights back on any second now.”

  “Okay, good.” I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding. I was such a wimp. “Where’s the generator?”

  “It should be in the back corner with the fuse box.”

  I gave my dad a look. “You seem to think that I know where the fuse box is.”

  “It’s in the utility r
oom.”

  “Ah, that I know.” I walked to the rear corner of the warehouse through the creepy racks of inventory and further into the darkness. If the batteries in this flashlight gave out now, I was going to strangle Kip. Not really. But the thought gave me a sort of morbid comfort.

  The utility room was a space that I had never gone into. I passed it briefly, but it was in the far back corner of the warehouse and not one I visited much. I tried the knob. “Locked. Good thing you told me to bring my key. Let’s hope it works.”

  Outside, a low howl rattled against the building as wind funneled down the street. I swallowed and took a breath as I jammed the key in the lock and turned. Thankfully, it opened.

  I pushed the door wide and shone my flashlight in. “Ew.”

  “What’s wrong?” my dad asked.

  “You didn’t tell me it was going to be cobweb central in here.”

  “This room doesn’t get used much, but a few cobwebs aren’t going to hurt you.”

  “It’s not the cobwebs that bother me.” I gave my dad the side-eye, which I wasn’t sure he could see given that he was looking at me through his snow globe back in the North Pole. “It’s the venomous spiders that inhabit them I’m worried about.”

  “I don’t think Nocturne Falls has any venomous spiders. You’ll be fine.” He was trying not to laugh. I could hear it in his voice. And I knew for a fact that there were poisonous spiders in Georgia, but I didn’t want to dwell on that. He cleared his throat. “Do you see the generator? Should be in a big green metal box on the floor.”

  “Yes, I see it. It’s about all that’s in here except for all the electrical panels on the walls and an old broom.” I was thinking about brandishing that broom as a defense against the spiders, but I didn’t have enough hands.

  “Open it up and let me have a look inside.”