Frost and Flame

by Showalter, Gena

  She began to suspect—and fear—a portal was the only way in and out of the dimension. If she continued on her current path, searching for an exit, she would only waste more of her limited time and precious energy. Better to do something with a slight chance for success.

  Maybe she should set some kind of trap for Zion? He’d dismissed the idea. She shouldn’t. If she captured him, she could force him to take her to Vale. Or maybe Bane.

  Like it or not, Nola shared a formidable connection with the guy. Ever since her eighteenth birthday, he’d starred in her favorite dreams. When he’d requested aid, she’d traveled halfway around the world to help. Now, he owed her. With little effort on his part, he could help her rescue Vale.

  Excitement bloomed. Okay. New list. Set trap for Zion, force him to open a portal. Find Bane. Convince Bane to save Vale before withdrawal sets in. Go home. Forget the war and its “combatants.” Forget my golden god’s potential alien status.

  Her tired brain could think up only one trap. The old “dig a hole, cover the top and watch ’em fall” trick.

  Where was a good place to—there! The spot where they’d eaten. She crouched and got to work, digging with her hands and a rock. Wasn’t long before fatigue and tremors set in, slowing her progress.

  A fine sheen beaded on her skin, her heart a sledgehammer against her ribs. Only three hours had passed, but the opioid had already begun to wear off. Next would come the nuclear aches.

  Dang it! Ticktock, ticktock. Yet she was no closer to achieving a single goal.

  Deep breath in, out. Crap! Dizziness invaded. Shallow breath in, out. Better. In, out. Excellent. Focus. No telling when Zion will return.

  As she continued to dig, tears of frustration welled, stinging her eyes. What wouldn’t she sacrifice to obtain strength like Bane’s?

  When she wasn’t in the middle of a lupus or fibro flare, she forced herself to walk five miles a day. Per her doctor’s orders, she avoided foods with gluten, dairy and chocolate. Even though kale belonged in the garbage, she consumed it twice a week. At least! She drank a thousand vegetable smoothies packed with vitamins and minerals. And yet, her stupid body decided to betray her now, when her sister needed her most.

  Her chin quivered. A lone tear scalded her cheek, and she hurried to wipe it away with the back of her hand. Give up? No! She had to push through. She would.

  Leaning forward, Nola slammed the rock in the ground and scraped pile after pile of dirt toward her knees. Muscles burned from exertion. Another tear fell as one side of the hole collapsed, undoing all her hard work.

  “Come on!” she snarled. Slam. Scrape. More tears. “I can do this. I can...” Her vision blurred. A sob bubbled up from deep, deep inside, unleashing a toxic flood of frustration, fear and everything else she’d buried while trapped in the mountains with Vale. All the panic. Hysteria. Uncertainty. And regret.

  With her head bowed and her shoulders shaking, she allowed new sobs to overtake her. If she were stronger, if she’d fought harder, she could have saved Vale already. But she wasn’t, and she hadn’t. Worthless. Helpless. Good for nothing. Insults foster parents and siblings had lobbed at her throughout the years.

  Well, they were wrong, and she would prove it! Trap Zion, and get to Bane. Just get to Bane.

  A wondrous sensation washed over her, as if she’d injected extra potent opioids. Aches and pains faded. Sweat dried, and her heartbeat slowed. Nola luxuriated. This was the way she was always supposed to feel, wasn’t it? This had to be what “normal” people experienced on a daily basis.

  She wanted to dance and sing, laugh and play...until the jungle vanished, walls of rock and crystal now surrounding her, different odors saturating the air. Old pennies, limestone, exotic spices and masculine musk.

  Nola clutched her stomach. Do not vomit. What just happened? And why did four dead bodies occupy the far corner of the cavern? They were fresh kills, their blood only beginning to congeal.

  Somehow, she’d traveled to another location in a blink, without the use of Rifters. How?

  She was a baker and a writer, and these impossible things kept happening to her. No doubt a freak-out was imminent. But not here, and not now. Though terrified, Nola stood to surprisingly steady legs, gliding to her feet with a grace she’d never before displayed.

  A low growl drew her gaze to the left. Bane!

  Seriously. How is this possible?

  He was awake, slumped over...and totally and completely naked. Blood and dirt smeared his bare skin while fury, pain and contempt blazed in those golden eyes. Mud clumped in his hair and crusted around the angry, oozing gash on his shoulder. Row after row of muscle cut his glorious chest, creating a bona fide eight-pack. Am I drooling? Like Zion, he had circular tattoos on his torso. A tree of life, a cluster of stars and an ocean wave.

  Her cheeks heated as she skipped her gaze over his groin. His extra large groin.

  Oh, hello. No way, no how his penis could be that big. Right? She supposed she needed to take another peek, just to be sure.

  Back up her gaze went. Sweet goodness! Look at that thing. A Jumbotron galore, with—

  No! Bad Nola!

  Shivers cascaded along her spine, her blood warming as if...no way. As if she experienced sexual arousal without an upset stomach. Another impossibility, right?

  She fanned her cheeks and returned her gaze to his thighs, his knees. His legs stretched out in front of him and—

  “Oh, Bane.” Her hand fluttered over her mouth. Only hours ago, he’d fought hulking warriors with unmatched skill and ferocity. Now, he was missing a foot. His leg ended in a bloody stump. “You poor baby,” she croaked, sympathy welling. The anguish he must be suffering. If she gave him the last pill in her pocket... He might have a bad reaction. Not human, remember?

  Right. The pill might kill him. Never mind. The fact that she’d even considered sharing her last precious pill proved how much he meant to her, despite everything that had happened.

  “Let me guess,” he grated, his voice as deep and husky as always. Despite his wounds, he eyed her up and down with slow, sexually charged precision, as if she were a virgin on an auction block and he planned to make the winning bid. “Zion told you my name.”

  Breathless, she replied, “He did.” That look should frighten and intimidate her, yes? So why did Nola find him sexier now? “Why do I feel so good? How did I get here?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Do you?” Ticktock. “Never mind. There’s only one topic that interests me. My sister, Vale. Knox has her. With your help, I can find her.”

  He pursed his lips, an action born of anger. Even still, he just seemed sad and vulnerable, a sensation she knew well. An ember of kinship flourished. “I can’t even find a tourniquet right now,” he said.

  “I can! I’ll take care of the tourniquet, and you’ll take care of Vale. Deal?” She didn’t wait for his response. She scanned the cave. Rock...dirt...crystal. Dead bodies. The guy in the middle wore a belt. Gonna have to do. She rushed over, saying, “Did you, uh, kill these guys?”

  “Yes. Happily. They’re part of my decorating style,” he said, his tone dry.

  Surely she would feel fearful now. Waiting...

  Nope. She felt exhilarated. Finally making progress!

  “Poor Bane. No one told you ‘macabre chic’ is out.” Pretending the corpses had gotten what they’d deserved—heck, maybe they had—she strained and maneuvered until she freed the strip of leather, then dashed back to Bane. Spices and musk teased her nose, fogged her head and heated her blood another degree. Great! Now tremors racked her. Sighing, she crouched beside him and slid the belt under his thigh as gently as possible.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  He hissed in pain and snapped, “You happened.”

  “Me?” She looked left and right, hoping he’d used that harsh tone for s
omeone else.

  For some reason, he calmed when his gaze locked on her hair. He looked...enchanted. He reached out to sift a lock between his fingers. The jet-black strands complemented his golden skin tone.

  “Pretty,” he said, then scowled and released her with a huff. “You have work to do.”

  Oookay. Losing an appendage made him cranky. Noted. And dang it, had anyone told her she’d one day calmly and casually regard an immortal warrior’s foot amputation, she would have laughed in their face.

  To keep him distracted from the coming pain, she said, “How did I cause you to lose a foot?” As she spoke, she looped the belt and slid the leather to the middle of his calf, then cinched it as tight as possible.

  He bellowed a curse with such fury, she ducked, expecting a punch.

  The action only made him angrier. But he gentled his tone, saying, “I won’t hurt you, Nola.”

  Deep breath in, out. “Good to know.” If he’d told the truth.

  A look of homicidal murder crossed over his face and he bellowed, “Has someone hurt you in the past?”

  Great! He sounded rage-y again. “Let’s, uh, focus on you and the foot. Okay?”

  Between panting breaths, he told her, “I fought to protect you and got pinned for my efforts. To escape the collapsing cavern, I had to remove the foot. So I could track you. Only, Zion is very good at hiding. I quickly lost your trail.”

  “The foot,” he’d said, not “my foot.” The distinction mattered, and roused her sympathies. She knew he felt removed from his body, a phenomenon she’d often battled, as well. “Do you know where Knox is? He absconded with my sister.”

  “Sister?” His brow furrowed. “I didn’t sense Adwaewethian blood in the other girl.”

  “But you sensed Adwaewethian blood in me?” Oh, crap. Was she an alien? An other-worldly lineage might explain some of her stranger idiosyncrasies.

  A muscle jumped underneath his eye. “Yes, I did. And no, I don’t know where Knox is. None of us do.”

  Double crap! She rocked back on her haunches, saying, “I’ve lived on Earth—Terra—my entire life. How can I be from your world?” They’d circle back to his inability to search for Knox and Vale after she’d warmed him up a bit—conversationally speaking.

  “How else? There’s an Adwaewethian breeder in your family tree.”

  How blithely he made an announcement that had the power to change the entire course of her life. If true, of course. “Is that why you spoke inside my head and demanded I find you?”

  Snubbing the question, he reached out and cupped the back of her nape, his grip bruising. Shock and fury darkened his expression. “You’re real. You’re real, and you’re here. You’re here with me.”

  Things started softening inside her. “Yes, I’m real. And just so you know, if you break me, you buy me.”

  With a single yank, he forced her face closer to his, their mouths only a whisper apart. She gasped. He stared, hard, his gaze searching hers.

  Up close, his eyes resembled liquid gold, molten and smoldering, his frame of long, black lashes the stuff of dreams. Literally! Nola had never thought to be within touching distance of her golden god, and now she was...reeling. “I’m real, and you are an honest to goodness alien, like Zion. And me, apparently.” To believe, or not to believe?

  He didn’t seem to hear her. “Did Zion harm you?”

  Did he care? “No. He was good to me.”

  “How good?” Bane’s eyelids slitted, those gorgeous amber irises hidden. “You like him.”

  “Kind of. And very much,” she said.

  He growled. Growled! Like a big, beautiful, jealous animal.

  A man like Bane, jealous because another man got to spend more time with Nola? No way. She must be misreading the situation. “I don’t know him well, but he doesn’t look at me as if I’m the dirt on the bottom of his shoes so...” Shrug.

  “Dirt. Yes.” Though his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side, he didn’t release her. He did jerk to attention a moment later and snarl, “Hate you.”

  She flinched, the admission hitting her like a fist. What had she done to deserve such rancor?

  Why give him the satisfaction of asking?

  If he’d shown her a little kindness, she would have given him her all—all of her caring, all of her aid. Now? He’d be lucky to get half of either.

  “Where did Zion take you?” he demanded.

  She jutted her chin, saying, “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  “Then you are a fool. He’s using you to get to me.”

  “Right, because a man wouldn’t want me for any other reason?” she bit out.

  He traced his tongue over straight white teeth. “Stay with me, and I will protect you from him. From everyone.”

  “Trust the man who hates me? No, thanks. Besides, you can’t even protect yourself, Stumpy.” Guilt sparked. Never before had Nola used such a scathing tone with another living being, but come on! In just a few minutes, he’d shredded what little hard-won self-esteem she possessed. “Besides, why would you want to protect me?”

  He looked away, his demeanor changing. From fierce to determined. “I don’t have to like you to help you. We need each other.”

  This mighty golden god needed her? “I know why I need you—Vale. Why do you need me?”

  “Tell me you will stay away from Zion,” he insisted, snubbing another question.

  Dang him! “If you won’t help me save Vale, Zion will.” Maybe. But she’d have to push. So why not push Bane instead?

  Hoping to arouse his jealousy again, she said, “Zion is hot and very good with his hands.” Probably. She leaned closer, pressing her breasts against his chest, and whispered straight into his ear. “I’m his dream girl.” Literally!

  Bane tightened his grip. “Dream...yes. You are a dream, and a nightmare, just like Adwaeweth. You are my salvation and my damnation, rolled into one beautiful package.”

  He thinks I’m beautiful?

  Ugh! That was what she focused on? “How can I be your salvation and your damnation? Actually, how can I be either one?” she asked, and dang it, every time he exhaled, she inhaled, breathing in all that spice and musk. Her belly quivered, and heat pooled between her legs.

  I’m experiencing arousal without an upset stomach. How wonderous! But why here, why now? Why him?

  Did he feel arousal, too? He must. As they stared at each other, awareness charged the air.

  Again, he pretended she hadn’t asked a question and chose to ask one of his own. “How did you reach me without Rifters?”

  “I honestly don’t know. One second I was wondering if you’d help me, the next I was here.”

  For some reason, her response infuriated him all over again. “Already embracing our capabilities, I see. Typical royal,” he muttered with disgust.

  Royal? Capabilities?

  “Tell me to heal,” he commanded. “Tell me to grow a new foot as quickly as possible.”

  “You mean I should whisk you to a hospital, using a supernatural ability I might or might not have and definitely don’t know how to use? Sure thing. Why don’t you watch as I pull a rabbit out of my invisible hat, too?”

  His golden brows drew together, a crease forming in the middle. “Hospital...a medical facility. No. You will aid me here.”

  “How? My phone is dead, and there’s no way I can carry you.”

  “Tell me to heal, Nola. Exactly as I requested.”

  Annoyed, she said, “You didn’t make a request. You made a demand.”

  He squeezed her nape until she whimpered, more with surprise than pain. But even now, she wasn’t afraid of him. “Tell me. Now.”

  “This is protecting me?” she snapped.

  Immediately, he loosened his hold. “Please,” he rasped.

  Why not humor him?
“Heal,” she said. “Grow a new foot as quickly as possible.” For the briefest glimpse of time, she felt warm, feverish, but the feeling ceased abruptly.

  As soon as the last word left her mouth, he threw back his head and roared with agony, his entire body seizing. Now fear descended upon her. She wrenched away from him, chanting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” What had she done?

  “Do not leave,” he shouted. “Nola, don’t you dare leave.”

  Too late. The cave—and Bane—vanished, the jungle reappeared. She jolted. Once again, she’d transported to a new location in a mere blink of time, with no idea how she’d done it.

  Transported...or teleported?

  “Zion,” she called.

  Birds took flight, but no response was forthcoming. So. No Bane, and no Zion. Great!

  Nola scoured her mental files for any information she might have read about the ability, but her thoughts were as jumbled as a barrel of plastic monkeys. A symptom of withdrawal. The other symptoms returned with a vengeance, her heart racing, sweat beading on her skin. Aches and pains reignited, and she struggled to catch her breath.

  Somehow, Bane had staved off her withdrawal. Now that they were apart...

  Should she try to return to him, despite his temper tantrum?

  No need to think about it. Yes, she should. Ticktock. She was no closer to saving Vale, but she was close to getting an agreement from him. But, no matter how hard she concentrated, she remained in place, frustrated and disappointed.

  One fact cleared up, though. Bane had forever altered the course of her life. Only time would tell if those changes were for the best...or the worst.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When his ex is the queen of mean!

  “NOLA!” BANE ROARED. He jolted upright, frigid limestone-scented air nipping at his exposed skin.

  He reached out to Nola with his mind, wanting her close, but some kind of block prevented a connection. Why?