Frozen

by Meljean Brook

  The futility of sleep had me throwing back the covers and moving to the window. The storm had finally let up. Moonlight bathed the clearing in front of the house, a bright silvery glow against the white.

  Movement near the treeline caught my eye. A wolf. Not one of the big ones—not a Hound. Its yellow eyes gleamed through the darkness. Looking up at me. I had the sudden, eerie certainty that the Hound watched the house through the animal. Making sure that Erik and I didn’t make a run for it? Or just waiting for him to lose control so that they could attack while his guard was down?

  Maybe both reasons. With a shiver, I scanned the shadows between the trees. Nothing. If the two Hounds were converging on the house, they weren’t bold enough to show themselves yet.

  The muscles in the back of my neck tensed. The gray wolf had begun to slink across the snow toward the gatehouse. It sniffed around the stone before peering through the portcullis. From this angle, I couldn’t see Erik or the ice that surrounded him, but he must have known the wolf was there. An explosion of snow suddenly erupted beneath the animal’s nose. With a yelp, the wolf scurried back to the edge of the trees, tail between its legs.

  I grinned—then caught my breath in realization. The moon was out. The storm was over. And Erik could clear the roads. I could make it to the highway.

  But was it too late for me to drive far enough? And there were still two Hounds out there, not just one. Erik and I might be able to draw them out, but they weren’t stupid. It would only take one trick, one distraction, and while one Hound kept Erik occupied, the other could come after me. Then I had no doubt they’d use me against Erik. They’d already tried.

  Or at least one brother had tried. Erik had said the Hounds didn’t work well together. But maybe they didn’t need to. The gray wolves could be a distraction or a threat, too.

  A distraction. Such as waiting until both Erik and I were paying attention to the wolf at the edge of the clearing? For what purpose? The house was solid. The ice around Erik was solid. The brothers couldn’t get to either of us.

  But now I was uneasy. Holding my breath, I listened. Just the crackle of the fire. Yet my instincts were screaming.

  Heart pounding, I scrambled across the bed. My pistol lay on the nightstand. Erik expected me to shoot him with it. I’d much rather shoot the Hounds. Sitting motionless on the wide mattress with my gun in hand, I faced the open door and the dark hallway that led to the northern tower room.

  Still no sound except the fire. Even the creaking roof was quiet now. Okay. So maybe I was freaking myself out for nothing. How could a Hound get in? The windows were barred; even if they managed to break through, I’d have heard them. Erik had told me about the bolt-hole in the pantry that led to an escape tunnel, but that had been reinforced as well as the rest of the house. The Hounds might have found the tunnel entrance, but they couldn’t get into it.

  The chimney?

  I’d only asked myself so that I could laugh about it and ease this horrible tension. Erik had said the Hounds were too big. I believed that. And yet…and yet…the roof had been creaking. I couldn’t remember it doing so before—and it wasn’t creaking now.

  And if the Hounds had a wolf watching the place, they might have had a wolf listening, too. Maybe my stupid little joke to Erik had told the brothers how to get in.

  I glanced to the fireplace. I’d have noticed if something had been making its way through the chimney shaft. Soot scraped from inside would have fallen in. Probably some snow, too.

  But the fireplace in the other tower room? Or the great room downstairs?

  Trembling with anxiety, I watched the shadows in the hallway. Nothing moved. I was just scaring myself. The dark probably wasn’t helping. On a deep, calming breath, I placed the weapon on the nightstand and flicked on the lamp, revealing the gigantic snake slithering silently down the hallway, lidless eyes glinting yellow and thick muscles undulating beneath silver scales.

  Horror strangled the breath from my lungs. That couldn’t be real. Though the Hounds could shape-shift, Erik had only mentioned them transforming into wolves and humans. It had to be another trick, an illusion, but all at once I recalled the Ironwood witch’s other children—including a serpent big enough to circle the world.

  Oh, my God. I dived for the gun.

  “Erik!” My scream rose into a shriek as the snake moved in my peripheral vision, no longer slinking its way toward the bedroom but coiling its long body as if preparing to rear up and strike. “Erik!”

  A noise thundered from below, as if a tank had rammed through the stone wall. He wouldn’t be fast enough. I spun around, bracing my shoulders against the backboard, aiming between my knees. God, god. The snake was already inside the bedchamber. It was too fast; I couldn’t track it in my sights. The broad, flat head whipped from side to side, offering only a narrow, moving target. Its jaw unhinged, six-inch fangs unfolding like switchblades, and I remembered reading how Thor, a freaking god, had been killed by the Midgard serpent’s poison. After destroying the beast, he’d taken nine steps and fallen dead. If that shit got into my blood, I wouldn’t last a second.

  Screw the head. I’d settle for hurting it a little.

  I fired. The gun kicked against my grip, the crack deafening in the stone chamber. Missed. I didn’t have time for despair. Screaming, I squeezed off another shot. Another. The next ripped through its neck, but satisfaction was a fleeting thing, because it was at the side of the bed now, rising up like a cobra, and this was it, I was dead.

  Fuck giving in, though. I aimed at the gaping fanged maw and fired.

  At nothing.

  Ears ringing painfully, I stared at the empty space. Another illusion? No.

  Erik.

  I hadn’t seen him or heard him come in. But he must have grabbed the snake’s tail and yanked it away from me just in time. It lay halfway across the chamber. A spear impaled its midsection, pinning it to the stone floor. His beautiful face a mask of fury, Erik approached the thrashing head.

  “Watch the fangs!” I cried out. The ringing in my ears muffled the warning, and it was as if Erik didn’t hear it, either.

  The snake struck. I screamed as its long fangs sank through Erik’s jeans, stabbing deep into his thigh. He barely reacted, simply clenching his teeth and reaching down to grip the snake’s jaws, wedging his fingers into its mouth.

  In a single sharp movement, he ripped the serpent’s head and throat in half as easily as I would tear apart a length of string cheese. Blood spewed over his hands, his leg. The smell hit me, hot and coppery. My stomach heaved. I dropped the gun and covered my mouth, staring at him over the tips of my fingers. My vision blurred as the full terror of everything that had just happened rolled over me—and the devastation of what was to come.

  “The poison, Erik,” I whispered. “Oh, my God, the poison.”

  He let go of the snake’s jaws and the two halves of its head flopped to the floor. His lips moved, but through the ringing in my ears his response sounded as if it came from miles away. “I’ve already healed.”

  Of course. Nothing could kill him but a bullet to the head or the Hounds ripping out his throat. But for a moment, I’d been certain that I’d lose him, and it was as if everything inside me had been torn apart. But he was still here. Alive. I stared at him, my breath coming in ragged sobs.

  His diamond gaze searched my face. “You’re all right?”

  No. No, I wasn’t. But I couldn’t say it, because the concern in Erik’s expression transformed into torment even as he looked at me. Averting his face, he stared at his bloodied hands before slowly clenching them to fists at his sides. Close to the edge of his control…and probably worried that he might be tipping over.

  I nodded—I’m just fine, that gesture lied—but my sobbing breaths probably told him the truth, anyway.

  The bleak edge to his voice penetrated the hollow ringing in my head. “You aren’t safe here. Even if you stop me, the last Hound can get in.”

  My heart twisted. That
wasn’t just the torment I saw in him now, but desolation. Because the one thing he’d relied on—the house keeping me safe after he was gone—couldn’t do that anymore.

  I scooted to the end of the bed, then froze when his burning gaze snapped to mine, then slowly slid down my body. By the time our eyes met again, his erection was straining against denim. The curse was gaining traction again.

  God. I wanted him. I would welcome him into my bed. But I preferred that it wasn’t while he was covered in a snake’s blood and my skin was still slick with cold sweat. “So what now?”

  “The first plan.” Determination hardened his face. “We drive out of here. When the Hound comes for us, I stop him and you keep going.”

  My gaze shot to the window. Already dark. The astronomical solstice was less than four hours away. “Can I get far enough?”

  His throat worked before he answered, “Maybe. If you don’t, promise me the same as you did before. If I catch up to you, if I rip off the door, you have to shoot me.”

  Because I might be out in the middle of nowhere. Because he might drag me out of the truck and into the snow—and because he believed wouldn’t be able to stop fucking long enough to keep me from freezing to death. But would I rather take my chances with Erik and trust that he’d take more care than that, or face another snake?

  I glanced at the bloodied monster on the floor. The answer was pretty simple, actually. “All right,” I said softly, not moving yet. “I need to get off the bed and get dressed. So don’t jump me, okay? I’m not running away.”

  Jaw clenched, Erik nodded. When he looked at me, the ravenous need in his eyes stole my breath. “Hurry,” he rasped.

  I hurried.

  * * *

  Everything outside was quiet. Absolutely still. If the Hound or the wolves were nearby, they didn’t show themselves as Erik and I rounded the side of the house, where his big truck sat protected under a shield of ice and buried under drifts of snow. As we approached, the snow and ice parted like a frozen Red Sea, revealing gleaming chrome and red paint.

  “Show off,” I said.

  The fierce look he’d been directing toward the treeline abruptly changed to a grin. My heart tripped. God. Did he have any idea how incredible he was? So what if he was tall and strong and gorgeous. None of that mattered compared to the way he stood before me, spear at his side and valiantly fighting against a thousand-year-old curse in a desperate attempt to protect me. A warrior. My warrior, at least for tonight.

  His gaze searched my face. “Promise me, Olivia—no matter what happens when the Hound comes, you’ll drive on.”

  My throat tightened. “I will. Now bend down a little.”

  Though his eyebrows drew together, he did. I dropped my bag on the snow beside my feet. Grasping his collar, I rose up onto the toes of my boots. The snow helped—heavier, he sank deeper into it than I did, so I didn’t have to go up so far.

  When I felt his frigid breath against my lips, I whispered, “Control yourself, or the Hound will get us. This is for luck.”

  Erik didn’t move, didn’t respond. He probably didn’t dare.

  I knew better than to do more than softly press my mouth to his. Feverish, his firm lips burned against mine, and I savored the heat and contact as long as I could. Not long enough.

  It never could be.

  His hand came up to cup my jaw as I sank back onto my heels. Tipped by an icy claw, his broad thumb stroked my bottom lip.

  “For luck,” he said roughly.

  I nodded and drew a long breath. “All right.” I reached for my bag. “Let’s ride like the wind.”

  All at once the warrior again, Erik scanned the trees as I started the engine and began blasting the heater. As soon as I nodded through the window at him, he leapt easily into the truck bed and thumped the roof of the cab twice.

  Time to roll. The bright halogen headlights illuminated the clearing, replacing gentle moonlight with harsh white. Like a cloth seam splitting and revealing skin below, the snow cleared from the driveway ahead of us. Erik had told me to go fast, so I made the tires spit gravel. My hands tight on the steering wheel, my heart pounding, I barely slowed around the corners. We flew past the trees lining the drive, their trunks dark against all that ghostly white, and every second I expected the Hound to jump out from between them.

  We reached the road. The remains of my Jeep had all but disappeared beneath a mound of snow. No plows had come this way yet, at least not for the past day or so. The county didn’t need to send one now. Within a blink, Erik cleared the pavement. I eased out onto the blacktop, expecting ice. The road was dry.

  I gunned the engine. Only a few miles to the main highway—and only a few miles more until the highway ran along a narrow gorge, with a river on one side and sheer cliffs on the other. If the Hound followed us, he’d have to pass through that bottleneck. Erik intended to wait there for him while I drove on.

  If the Hound didn’t attack us first.

  Tension had a stiff hold on my every muscle. My fingers were already aching thanks to my death grip on the steering wheel. My only job was to focus on the road—Erik would watch for the Hound. Despite that, my gaze still darted from side to side, searching the tall snowbanks, flicking into the trees.

  A wolf burst out of the snow and dashed across the road. I’d prepared myself for every trick and illusion that I could imagine. Before we’d left, I’d decided that no matter what showed up in front of me—Hound, wolf, or little old lady—I’d run them over with Erik’s big truck. Just ram right into them.

  Reflexes took over and I slammed the brake, instead. The tires screeched. I jolted forward against the seatbelt, then my head overrode reflex and I hit the gas.

  And rammed into the Hound.

  Screaming, I stomped the brake again. The Hound’s body flew thirty feet before smashing into the pavement. Horror shattered through me—I’d just killed a man—but he was already rising to his feet, his silvery hair gleaming white in the bright headlights.

  The same Hound who’d threatened us on the first day. The same one who’d sniffed my panties. I barely had a second to recognize him before he shape-shifted, then guilty horror became sheer terror.

  I’d seen them as giant wolves before, but even though they’d been huge, they’d looked like wolves. This Hound transformed into something in-between, an unnatural nightmare that stood on hind legs.

  A werewolf, my petrified mind supplied, but nothing I’d ever watched on a movie screen resembled the grotesque monster the Hound had become. The transition had been smooth—no bones popping or claws ripping through fingertips—but the result was a twisted mash of human and wolf and wrong. Long, thin arms lightly covered in hair hung past powerful furred haunches and lupine knees. The hands were enormous, the fingers bending on an extra joint and armed with razored claws. But the face was the worst, still bald as a man’s but shaped like a wolf’s, pale skin and pink lips stretched over a pointed muzzle and gaping open to reveal a predator’s teeth.

  The better to rip out Erik’s throat, my dear.

  Already shaking, I jumped in my seat when Erik vaulted over the roof of the cab and crouched in front of the truck, spear at his side. For an instant, frost giant and Hound stared each other down. The werewolf snarled, slobbering human lips drawing back over its fangs. I couldn’t see Erik’s expression, only read the tension in his broad back, in the sinews of his forearms, his muscles like chiseled stone.

  Suddenly chunks of ice exploded from the snowbanks ahead, pelting the Hound. None of the chunks were big or sharp enough to hurt it, but that wasn’t Erik’s intention, I realized. He’d just wanted the distraction.

  He hurled the spear—then charged after it. Batting away the flying chunks of ice, the Hound focused on Erik again. Too late. The spear stabbed through its furred chest, knocking him back a step, then Erik was on him. The Hound’s head jerked to the side, avoiding Erik’s grip; Erik got his hands on the creature’s shoulder, instead. In a shower of blood, the werewolf’s l
ong thin arm went flying.

  An agonized howl pierced the quiet. I watched, too stunned to even reach for my gun as a new arm began growing. It was all happening so fast, I could barely track it. Erik had gripped the spear again, was forcing the shaft up through the werewolf’s ribcage. The Hound slashed at him, claws ripping open Erik’s side. Crimson splattered over snow.

  My hands and clenched teeth stopped my scream. That wound would heal within seconds and I couldn’t distract Erik now—he might think I was in trouble here.

  And why wasn’t I? Sickened, terrified, I wildly looked away from the battle, searching for the wolves. There’d been at least one a few seconds ago. Now I feared they’d sneak up behind Erik while he was fighting the Hound or attack the truck, but not even a single wolf was in sight.

  I glanced back. I hadn’t looked away for more than two seconds, but the fight was over.

  Trembling hands covering my mouth, I stared. That horrible human-wolf head was just a bloody pulp with a mane of silver hair. Erik yanked his spear from the Hound’s ravaged chest and threw the body to the side of the road, where the snowbank seemed to swallow it up.

  Slowly, he turned toward the truck. I was supposed to have been driving on. I hadn’t realized the whole battle would only last ten seconds. Heart thundering, I rolled down the window as he approached, ripping the blood-soaked shirt from his torso.

  Oh, God. Not in the snow. Not in the snow. But I didn’t reach for the gun.

  He passed the brilliant wash of the headlights and his own eyes shone in the dark, a pale blue glow. His big hands gripped the edge of the driver’s side door, fingers tipped with shards of ice.