Kissed by Ice

by Shéa MacLoed

  I nodded. I was painfully aware.

  "And this one," she said, tapping the second card. It was the eight of swords. "I don't think I need to tell you about this one, either. Right now you're feeling despair. A lack of hope. You feel trapped, and you don't know what to do."

  No shit. I didn't need magic cards to tell me that.

  She laid her hand gently on the third card. Three of swords. "This one isn't…great," she said, cautiously. "If you're not careful, you could open yourself up to a lot of pain."

  "Too late."

  "Now, Morgan," she said, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. "It looks bad, I admit, but there is hope. Yes, if things stay the same, he will break your heart. But you have a choice. There are always choices. There is a way."

  A way for what exactly? To be happy? If it meant leaving Inigo, I wasn't sure I was prepared for that. Although I might not have much choice in the matter. You can't make somebody love you again no matter how much you want them to. Sometimes all you can do is let go.

  I was about to say something when a sudden gripping on the back of my skull distracted me. Vampire. Close. Like, in the club close. I pulled my hand from Cordelia's. "Thanks, Cordy. I appreciate it. I'll give it some thought." I rose from the table in a rush. "I've got to go."

  "Please don't be sad," she said. She stood up and wrapped me in a warm hug. "I promise you. Things are going to come out right. They always do."

  I wished I had her faith.

  # # #

  I slipped through the silver curtain back onto the crowded dance floor. Ignoring the press of scantily clad writhing bodies, I pushed my way around the edge of the dance floor. If there really was a vamp in the club, I needed to find it. Fast.

  About halfway around the room, that gripping press on the back of my skull intensified. I froze in my tracks. Definitely close. I still couldn't figure out how a vamp had gotten into Fringe. The mysterious owner of the club and his trusty bartender would never allow that. Fringe might freely welcome all supernaturals, but that didn't extend to vamps or anyone else likely to cause trouble. There were wards on the doors to prevent such things from entering. In fact, they were the strongest wards I'd ever seen. Whoever had placed them must be one hell of a Witch. How had a vampire gotten past the wards?

  Focusing on the pressure in my head, I stepped cautiously to the left toward the bar. The pressure eased up. Okay, not that direction. I continued my circuit around the room toward the exit at the front of the club. Again, the pressure grew fainter. Right, then. The vamp was somewhere on the right side of the room on the other side of the dance floor.

  Sinking down on an empty barstool, I scanned the edge of the room as casually as possible. No one stood out, but that didn't mean anything. In a place like this, everyone looked a little…inhuman.

  A trio of sidhe drifted by, their faces an ever-changing morph of features. The constant shift coupled with the strobe lights was downright nausea-inducing. The three of them ignored me, which was odd. Every sidhe in existence knew who I was. What was Morgana up to?

  I eyed a gentleman in one corner. He was dressed in a snazzy black suit with a shiny silver tie. There were three different women draped all over him while several more hovered, entranced by his every word. I narrowed my eyes. Could be the vamp. He was excessively pale. But vampires didn't care about sex. They only cared about feeding. Blood. A vamp might select one person to entrance, but only so he could get her out of the club as quickly as possible. He would not collect an entire harem of fawning women. Nor would he be as clearly aroused by the attention as this man appeared to be. I axed Snazzy Suit off my list.

  "What can I get you, miss?"

  I swiveled on my stool to face the bartender—Axel, I believe his name was. He hadn't raised his voice. He hadn't needed to. I could hear him easily over the loud thumping music, and he knew it. I eyeballed him carefully. His shoulder length brown hair was pulled back in a queue and thick muscles rippled beneath his simple black T-shirt. He could have passed for ordinary, but his eyes gave him away. The icy blue orbs where anything but human. Wolf's eyes. I bowed my head a little, and he acknowledged with a wink. He knew what I was, and I knew what he was. We were cool. What I didn't know was if he realized he had a vamp running amok in his nightclub. I doubted it. He seemed far too calm. His kind wasn't known for calm where vamps were concerned.

  "Just a ginger ale, thanks." Getting drunk was the last thing I needed. Hard to hunt vamps when you're three sheets to the wind, but I needed a prop to avert suspicion.

  Axel shook his head and grabbed a glass. Filling it with ice, he added ginger ale and a twist of lime, and slid the glass across the counter. I started to pull out my wallet, but he stopped me.

  "Hunters drink free," he said, his voice a low rumble I could feel in my chest. "Especially when they're on the hunt. You should know that by now."

  So he did know there was a vamp in the club. Or at least he knew I was hunting one, which pretty much amounted to the same thing.

  "How did a vamp get past the wards?" I didn't raise my voice, either. He could hear me as easily as I heard him. Super hearing has its benefits.

  He carefully wiped down the counter in front of me with a white bar towel. "No idea. Somebody with magic and a knowledge of the wards had to have let it through."

  Shit. That wasn't good. "Any idea who that would be?"

  "Lot of people know about the wards."

  It was true. Anyone who walked through the door would feel them. I changed tack.

  "Have you seen him?" I asked, taking a sip of my ginger ale.

  "I'm guessing that's him." Axel nodded ever so slightly toward the back door. "Or, rather, her."

  I turned around cautiously, not wanting to alert my prey. I spotted the vamp instantly. She was barely dressed in a shiny silver lam&eactue; thing with matching stilettos studded in rhinestones. More pale skin on display than cloth. Her white-blonde hair hung nearly to her waist as she sashayed toward the exit, showing off just a hint of cheek with every stride. It was a good thing she waxed before she died. She pulled a young man along behind her. He looked barely legal. His eyes were wide as if he couldn't believe what was happening. He really wasn't gonna believe it when she sank her fangs in his neck. They stepped outside, and the door slammed shut behind them.

  "Thanks," I said, hopping off the barstool. I didn't wait for the Axel's reply, but headed across the floor toward the back exit. I must've looked like a woman on a mission because no one bothered me this time. In fact, people seemed to be in an inordinate hurry to get out of my way. Fine with me.

  As I approached the door, I pulled my machete from the sheath across my back. When in Portland, I pretty much went everywhere with it. Tonight that certainly proved to be a good policy.

  Cautiously, I pushed open the exit door and peered around the corner. I spotted the pair next to a rather smelly dumpster, writhing and moaning like a couple of animals in heat. They looked like they were necking, but I could smell the copper tang of blood. Shit. I was already too late. If I grabbed the vamp, she'd rip the kid's throat out. I needed to make her let go willingly. How to do that? I grinned as a thought came to me. I stepped outside, closing the door cautiously behind me so as not to alert the vampire.

  "Here vampy, vampy," I called in a singsong voice, tapping my blade against the metal fire door. The metallic sound rang off the brick walls, echoing in the narrow alley.

  The vamp lifted her head from her prey and snarled at me. Bright red blood dripped from her fangs and coated her mouth in a grotesque lipstick. It really wasn't her color.

  "Oh, I'm scared." Sarcasm dripped from my voice as I launched the childish taunt.

  She let the boy go. He fell against the dumpster with a thud and slumped to the ground. In the glow of a nearby streetlight he looked paler than he should. Not a good sign. I needed to get him help, but first things first. Vamp girl hissed at me like an angry cat, her eyes glowing red in the dim light. Interesting. She was clearly under th
e control of someone who wasn't a vampire. Was she, perhaps, a soul vamp? One of Alister's making maybe?

  "Please," I snapped. "Is that all you've got? Pathetic. Kaldan would have been so ashamed." Kaldan had once ruled all the vamps in Portland. Until I'd separated his head from his body. I was betting he'd held her reins once upon a time.

  With a howl of rage, the vampire flew at me. She moved so fast, I barely had time to slice her with my machete. She hit me hard, and I fell with a thump, flat on my back. The wind whooshed out of my lungs. For a moment I lay there, stunned, unable to move. She reared back, fangs bared, going for my throat. I managed to roll my head to the side enough that she hit my shoulder instead. The pain of her fangs sinking into my flesh was like fire ripping through my body. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

  My machete was pinned under her left knee. Only thing I could do was haul off and punch her in the temple with my fist. She pulled back, surprised by my move. Her scream of rage nearly deafened me as blood and spit sprayed across my face. Gross.

  I bucked my hips, dislodging her just enough to free my machete. It was too close quarters for the weapon, so I gave her another good bash against the head with the handle, throwing her off me. Something crunched, and her scream of rage turned to one of pain as I opened up a good six-inch gash along her temple. The blow probably would've killed a human.

  I staggered to my feet as the vamp pressed her hand against the gash, trying to stem the flow of blood, but I could see the sticky dark liquid still pouring between her fingers. Since she'd eaten recently, the blood was flowing faster than normal, but it was still darker and more viscous than human blood. She scrambled away from me, glancing back toward the inert body of the young man. I knew what she was thinking. If she could only get to the boy, she could feed and her body would heal that much faster. No way would I let that happen. It was time to practice what Tommy had been training me to do. See if I could wield my new power without succumbing to it.

  I needed to find out how she'd gotten through the wards. Could I use my powers to restrain rather than kill? Time to find out.

  Without hesitation I pulled on the Water within me. It came quickly, eagerly. No surprise there. All of my powers liked to get out and play from time to time.

  As I called it, the Water began to pool in the center of my hand. Sending my mental energy into the cupped water, I hurled it at the vampire. As it left my hand, the water turned to ice. The vamp's eyes widened, and she tried to move out of the way, but it was too late. The dagger-shaped shard of ice lodged in her breast, a fraction from her heart. She stared down at it in horror, then up at me. I breathed a sigh of relief. Talk about a close call. If she so much as moved, the shard would hit her heart, and she'd be a goner. I really needed to practice my aim.

  I half expected the icicle in her chest to start melting, but it didn't. It glittered beneath the streetlight, cold and deadly.

  I strode toward her with a smile. Fear was written all over her face. Definitely a soul vamp. Regular vamps didn't feel fear.

  "What are you?" she whispered, her voice wobbling a bit.

  I cocked my head to the side. Water was still riding me. I could feel it swirling, cold and dark, in my soul. "I am Hunter," I said.

  "No." Her voice was so faint I had to strain to hear it. "You are more. There is ice in your eyes."

  I wasn't sure what that meant, but I wasn't here for a personal appraisal. "How did you get past the wards?" I demanded.

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Do you want to be free?"

  She stared at me, eyes wide. "Yes."

  "Then tell me."

  She swallowed. "I can't."

  Shit. Whoever her master was had given her an order she wouldn't be able to break. "Who is your master?"

  She shook her head. "I can't tell you that, either."

  "Give me something."

  "There is nothing I can tell you. Except that none of this, none of it is by chance. I'm sorry."

  "I don't—" But before I could finish the sentence, she twisted to the right. I knew the minute the shard hit her heart; between one breath and the next, she exploded in a cloud of dust and ash.

  I stared at the small pile of ash for a moment, then turned and hurried to the boy. He was deathly pale, and his breathing was shallow. His pulse was weak and erratic. I had no idea how I was going explain this to anyone, but the kid needed a hospital fast.

  I shrugged out of my jacket and yanked my T-shirt up over my head. I pulled my jacket back on, zipped up, and then pressed my T-shirt against the wound on the boy's neck to stem the flow of blood. With the other hand, I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and dialed 911. Then I settled down to wait and make up my story.

  About a minute later, I heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. The back door of the club swung open, and Axel stuck his head out. His eyes glowed eerily for a moment, and then the glow was gone.

  "You need to get out of here before the cops arrive," he said.

  "Can't." I shook my head. "If I take pressure off this wound, this kid is going to die." I could not let that happen. I'd seen far too many people die because of the vamps. This kid wasn't going to be one of them. Not if I could help it.

  "Fine," he growled, stomping outside and letting the door swing shut behind him. He knelt beside me and placed his hand over mine. "I've got this," he said. "Go. I promise not to let him die. Bad for business, you know."

  With a nod, I pulled my hand out from under his, letting him take over. He was right. He was used to dealing with the cops, and I couldn't get involved in this. There was too much at stake. With a last glance at the pale form huddled on the ground, I slipped into the night and let the shadows take me.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I slumped into the guest chair across from Kabita's desk. Slouching down, I slung one leg over the arm and swung it back and forth. "Cordelia says we should scry for Alister," I said casually. I eyed her closely. She was wearing a cute little pair of black-rimmed cat's eye glasses. They suited her warm skin and exotic looks marvelously, but I'd never seen her wear glasses before. "When did you get those?"

  "Well, good afternoon to you too," she said dryly as she shuffled through a stack of papers on her desk. "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whatever. I'm great. How are you, Kabita? Good morning. Now, glasses?"

  She studied the papers in front of her a little more intently than necessary. "The doctor says I need them for reading." She shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Now, can we get down to business? What's this about scrying?"

  "Alister. Cordy thinks we should try scrying for him. Can you do it?"

  "No."

  I blinked. That was unexpected. "Excuse me?"

  She sighed and leaned in her chair. The leather squeaked in protest. "I'm too close, Morgan. Whatever I may think of him, he is my father."

  "So what? You can't scry for family?"

  She shook her head. "It's not that exactly. But in this case, there's too much… emotion involved." She meant anger. Betrayal.

  "Ah," I said, swinging my foot a little bit harder. "It's 'cause you're pissed as hell at him, right?"

  She gave me a wry smile and slid her glasses off. "Something like that. Besides, we would need something personal of my father's in order to scry for his location. I don't have anything like that."

  I cleared my throat. "I do," I reminded her.

  Her eyes narrowed. "The letter opener?"

  "He was playing with it at the pink house while we were talking. It's real silver, too, with his initials engraved on it. Pretty sure that counts as personal."

  She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. I guess it has to be done. I do know someone who might be able to help you."

  I tried to raise one eyebrow, but both went up. Stupid, uncooperative eyebrows. "Someone from your coven?" I knew very well Kabita was a solitary witch. Covens weren't really her thing. Although she would visit one from time to
time, she preferred to practice on her own.

  "Not mine, a new one. The leader moved to Portland recently. But she's good. Real good. I'll text you her number."

  I nodded and started to get up, but her next words stopped me.

  "Have you been sleeping?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  She gave me a look as she slid her glasses back on. "You look tired."

  "Gee, thanks," I said. "You really know how to make a girl feel special. I'm fine. Really." But it was a lie, and we both knew it.

  # # #

  "Thanks for picking me up."

  "No problem." I glanced at Inigo out of the corner of my eye. He was finally back in Portland with me where he belonged, and yet nothing felt as it should. Although that cold, bitter Inigo I'd first seen at the castle was gone, things were still awkward between us. Like two kids on a first date who didn't quite speak the same language. I didn't know what I could do or say to make it better.

  "Kabita hired someone to clean your place," I blurted. I wanted to smack myself in the head. Before…everything, Inigo and I had practically been living together. We'd spent almost every night at my place. Or rather, almost every day, since I tended to work nights. He still kept his apartment in the Northwest District near 23rd Ave, the place I was taking him now. With things the way they were, taking him back to my place, while I would've preferred it, felt wrong. I knew in my heart of hearts he wouldn't have gone for it so I didn't try. I guess I didn't want to face certain rejection.

  "That's nice." It didn't sound like he thought it was nice. It sounded like he didn't give a shit. He certainly wasn't urging me to take him to my place instead. I'd admit it. That hurt.

  "Don't want to lose you amidst all those dust bunnies." The joke fell flat, so I focused on driving. It was probably the safest option. Both for the car and for my heart. The rest of the trip passed in silence.

  Fifteen painful minutes later, I pulled up in front of Inigo's apartment building. I started to get out of the car. "Let me help you with your bags," I said.