Ice on Fire (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 1)

by G. R. Lyons

  The whole table went unnaturally silent as everyone stared at him.

  “Wow,” Dad finally managed. He cleared his throat. “How's that going?”

  “Well,” Milo began slowly, “it'll mean a promotion, actually. When they get done blending my department into the new company, I'll be head of my division.”

  Dad hesitated a moment before he said, “You don't sound too happy about that.”

  Milo shrugged. “I've just heard Frost is hard to work for. Not sure how it's going to go yet.”

  “But you're, like, a genius with numbers,” Hadley put in.

  Milo chuckled, as did his twin. Zac grinned at the sight of the two identical men sitting across from one another. Identical in every way except skills. One was an artist with his head in the clouds, while the other was grounded in black-and-white numbers. One, a prodigy in art; the other, a mathematical wizard, having solved advanced theorems—by the age of ten—that most adults couldn't even begin to touch. Milo couldn't draw much more than a stick figure, and Merik could barely handle simple multiplication, not even coming close to algebra or calculus, let alone the things Milo could do. It was a long-standing joke that they were the most opposite twins to have ever lived.

  “I know,” Milo replied to Hadley as he shrugged. “So maybe that'll help…when I meet Frost himself.”

  The whole table fell silent again. “Oh,” Dad mumbled.

  “Yeah.” Milo nodded slowly. “When he finds out my last name is Cinder…”

  Milo trailed off, and nobody said anything for a long moment, all humor gone from the room.

  It was an old rivalry, and one that Dad had managed to escape. At least, that's how he put it. The truth was closer to the fact that Dad had been thrown out, cast aside, but Dad had never seen it that way. He always said he was much happier with the way his life had turned out, having his wife and kids and being free of the world of finance. In that world, however, a name meant something whether the person attached to the name was involved or not. Frost and Cinder were enemies, no matter how little involvement any one individual might have when it came to the finance industry. Zac saw the grim look on his father's face.

  He wouldn't put it past Mr. Frost to fire Milo just because he was a Cinder.

  “But, I'm sure if I dazzle him,” Milo continued, “I'll be fine.”

  “I'm sure you will,” Mama said, patting his hand and giving him an encouraging smile.

  “Hadley?” Milo asked, changing the subject. “What's going on with you?”

  The tension in the room slowly lifted as everyone turned to give Hadley their focus, and all the usual clatter of eating and passing dishes resumed.

  “Well,” Hadley began, and blushed. “Jonny and I are gonna open our own shop.” Hadley was a mechanical wizard. She'd been taking things apart and putting them back together from the time she was in diapers, and now she could fix just about anything. She'd been working at an equipment repair shop for only a few years, but she'd already been promoted to shop foreman, she was that good at her job. “I mean, I know it's a risk and all, but I just wanna try, you know? And Jonny said he'd come with me,” she continued, naming the guy she'd been dating ever since he got hired at the shop where Hadley worked. Hadley took a deep breath and rushed on: “Plus we found this great little house with a big shop right there on the property, so we wouldn't have to commute to work…”

  Zac saw Mama carefully set her fork down and focus on Hadley, so Zac glanced at his sister, watching her smile grow from shy to beaming.

  “Alright, fine,” Hadley said. “I'm engaged!”

  The whole table erupted in cheers and congratulations. Zac pulled his sister into a tight hug, then released her so she could get the same from everyone else. All the girls were squealing with excitement and launched right into a discussion of wedding plans. Zac glanced at his father and brothers and saw grins on their faces, even if they all were rolling their eyes.

  Zac refilled his coffee and tried to focus on that to block out the noise, though such a thing was impossible in that house.

  “Zac?” Mama asked. Zac looked up and realized the topic of weddings had come to an end and he hadn't even noticed. “Your turn.”

  “Oh. Um…” Zac wracked his brain, trying to think of something. He should have had something figured out before he'd even left his apartment that morning, but the hangover had done him in. Zac scrambled, going over the past week. He hadn't signed up for school yet, so there was nothing to announce with that. Nothing interesting had happened at work. Playing at Underground was the same as it had always been. And, unlike every single one of his siblings, he had no significant other to talk about.

  And there was no way in all seven hells he was blurting out that he was gay. The very idea turned his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of all these people seated around him suddenly going from loving him to hating him and casting him out.

  “You said you're gonna try to finish school this term?” Mama prompted.

  Zac nodded, unable to speak around a mouthful of eggs he'd taken to buy himself a moment.

  “Yeah!” Fane teased. “Zacky-boy's gonna graduate!”

  Zac held up his hands. “I haven't signed up yet. I have to see if I have enough money for tuition.” He paused and saw Fane shoot him a look. “But I will finish eventually, I promise.”

  “You better,” Fane said. “Can't have one Cinder breaking our perfect record.”

  The others chuckled, and Zac gave a nod. All his siblings had earned degrees or trade certificates in one fashion or another, every one of them having put themselves through school entirely on their own, just as Zac was doing, with help from Mom and Dad whenever they could afford it. Zac was the last one in school, and only one term away from his degree. He had to finish.

  “Do you need money?” Kaelie asked. “I can lend you–”

  “No.” Zac shook his head. “Thank you, no. I've managed this far. And it's only one more term.”

  “Proud of you, kiddo,” Dad said.

  “We all are,” Mama added, and everyone nodded.

  Zac almost blushed under their praise, but seeing the looks on his parents' faces, he knew he'd do whatever it took to finish school. All they wanted was for him to be happy, and he wanted to make them proud.

  “Well, next week, I want to hear that you've signed up,” Niko teased. “No excuses.”

  Hadley threw a piece of bacon at him.

  “Oh, thanks,” Niko said with a grin, picking up the bacon and shoving it into his mouth.

  Dad chuckled and rolled his eyes while Mama muttered something about manners.

  “Alright,” Zac said, leaning to his right to bump shoulders with Tarynn. “Your turn, Squirt.”

  Tarynn stuck her tongue out at him, then turned a beaming smile on everyone. “I got an apprenticeship.”

  “Right on!” Kaelie said.

  “Congratulations!” Fane added.

  “Where at?” Mama asked.

  “Sturmwyn Insurance,” Tarynn said. “I'll be shadowing an agent, learning the business more hands-on.” Tarynn had recently graduated with a degree in insurance, focusing on contracts and personal defense. The industry was the free-market equivalent to the old system of police and courts that ended when Agoran had disbanded its government, hundreds of years ago. There was still crime, of course—there always would be, human nature being what it was—but having the industry subject to competition in the open market meant things were much more streamlined and effective than any government-based judicial system ever was. Of course, that meant needing a finely-honed knowledge of contracts and mediation. Tarynn had shown herself to be rather adept at such things. Zac could easily imagine how quickly his sister would rise up through the ranks in that industry. Something told him she wouldn't be an apprentice for long.

  And Sturmwyn had an excellent reputation. It would be the perfect place for Tarynn to get her start.

  “I know some guys who work there,” Zac told her.

&nbs
p; Tarynn's eyes brightened. “Yeah? Who? Maybe I'll be working for one of them.”

  “Victor Lucius and Ryley Skye?” he suggested.

  Tarynn thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, haven't met them.”

  “Ah. Well, I'm sure you'll see them–”

  “Wait, Lucius?” Tarynn asked. She thought for a moment, then gasped. “Oh, he's the one who finds kids. I heard my boss talking about him at my orientation.”

  “Finds kids?” Merik and Milo asked.

  Tarynn nodded. “When kids go missing or get thrown out of their homes, he finds them and then either gets them home or rehabilitates them, and finds them families who will take them in. Apparently, he's a wiz at it.”

  “Gods, can you imagine…” Mama whispered, shaking her head. “Who would throw out a child?”

  “People do,” Tarynn said with a shrug. “It's sad.”

  Zac glanced at his mother, then down at his plate, pushing around the last few bits of scrambled eggs. Maybe he should just say it. Just come out. Maybe it would be fine–

  “How do you know him?” Tarynn asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  Zac blinked and looked up. “Huh?”

  “Mr. Lucius. How do you know him?”

  “Oh.” Zac cleared his throat. “Vic and Ryley are in my band.”

  Tarynn got a sour look on her face.

  “No, not Inferno,” he clarified. “Treble. We play at Underground.”

  “Oh. Classical.” Tarynn sighed. “That's good.” She scrunched up her nose. “No offense, Zacky, but I don't think I could work for someone in a punk rock band.”

  Zac chuckled. “None taken.”

  “Your friends are…weird,” she went on. “The ones in Inferno, I mean.”

  “Yeah, those guys aren't real nice, Zac,” Niko added.

  Zac shrugged. “They're my friends,” he said by way of explanation. “Have been since we were kids. Besides, Inferno is gaining a following. A lot more chance of hitting it big with them than with Treble.”

  “Just…be careful with them, sweetie,” Mama said. “I hate to speak ill of your friends, but you know I was never fond of those boys.”

  “I know, Mama. I will.”

  “Good.” Mama glanced around the table. “Alright, Zac, Tarynn. Your turn to do the dishes.”

  Tarynn grumbled under her breath as Zac shoved back his chair. “Yes, Mama.”

  Zac started gathering empty plates and headed for the kitchen. He nursed another cup of coffee while he and Tarynn got the dishes washed and the kitchen cleaned up. Once they were done, they joined everyone else in the cramped living room, the lot of them practically on top of one another. Milo was actually sprawled out across his twin's lap, the two of them sharing a space on the couch while everyone else scrunched in.

  With no place left to sit but the piano bench, Zac headed straight for the instrument. His head was still aching, but music was always a good idea, especially in that house. He folded back the old, creaking cover and smiled at the keys.

  Without prompting, he started to play, modifying the tune so he could skip over the one broken key they'd never gotten fixed. Zac was determined to get the instrument back in shape someday. Once he was finished with school, and once Dad had gotten his shoulder surgery done, as soon as Zac had any extra money to spare, he'd get the piano fixed and tuned up properly. They'd gotten it for practically nothing when Zac was still a baby, and even with its limitations, he'd still managed to teach himself how to play by ear. As a child and with a broken piano, he'd been amazing. Over the years and with proper instruments and training, he'd only gotten better.

  And just like Will Knightley, his idol and inspiration, he was bound and determined to make something of his music, to use his talent to make a name for himself so that he could give back to the parents who had done so much for him.

  “So, Dad,” Zac called out over all the other chatter in the room, “about this surgery…”

  “No, no, no.” Dad waved his hands. “We are not discussing that right now.”

  A tiny moment of silence passed, followed by a collective intake of breath, then every one of Zac's siblings launched into arguments and questions and offers of assistance, the whole gang banding together to make sure Dad was going to get the care he needed.

  Zac grinned. He loved his family.

  * * *

  THE DOORBELL tore Adrian out of sleep. He sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath, then heard the sound again and let out a groan. Glancing over at the nightstand, he saw it was just past fifth hour of morning.

  Groaning again, Adrian threw back the covers, dragged on a pair of flannel pants and a t-shirt, and shuffled out to the front door, flipping on lights and squinting as he went.

  He unlocked the apartment door and opened it a few inches, frowning as he blinked up at his visitor.

  “What are you doing here so early?”

  His father narrowed his eyes. “I'll not have that tone from you, young man.”

  Sebastian Frost shoved past Adrian and entered the apartment. Adrian hung his head, let out another groan, and pushed the door shut, then turned to face his father with his arms crossed over his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered. “What can I do for you, sir?”

  His father put his hands on his hips and surveyed the pristine, modern apartment he'd built and furnished for Adrian two years earlier—a birthday gift, and one for which Adrian had neither asked nor wanted. True to form, the old man looked refreshed and presentable, his hair neatly styled, his suit fitting to perfection, his eyes open and alert. Pushing sixty and he was still a bloody workaholic, and expected the same from everyone else around him.

  “Were you still in bed?”

  Adrian just stopped himself from scoffing, “Duh.” Instead, he managed a barely polite, “Yes, sir.”

  “Why?”

  Adrian frowned. “Why not?”

  His father sighed and looked away, shaking his head. “You could try applying yourself.”

  Adrian rolled his eyes while his father couldn't see. “I have no reason to be up so early.” Especially after such a late night, but he was not about to tell the old man that bit of information. And it wasn't like his father was ever going to let him get a job. Not that Adrian thought he could handle one. Not without being heavily medicated.

  “What about school?” Mr. Frost asked.

  Damn it. Adrian was hoping his father had forgotten. Yeah, right. “Doesn't start for another week, sir.”

  “But you are enrolled.”

  It wasn't a question. Never was with Sebastian Frost. More like a command. “Yes, sir.”

  “What's your progress on your degree?”

  Adrian barely stifled a growl. It was way too damned early in the morning to be talking about school. Besides, his father knew perfectly well how Adrian was doing on his degree. Considering the old man insisted on regular updates each term and copies of all his score reports, his father probably knew his degree status better than he did.

  But Adrian went through the motions anyway. Playing along was the easiest way to get the old man out of his apartment as quickly as possible. “This will be my final semester, and if my scores continue the way they have, I'll be able to present my thesis at the end of Spring term.”

  His father gave a sharp nod. “I expect they will.” Adrian just managed to hold his tongue. That was just another command: get perfect scores, or else. It was never, “I'm proud of you, son,” or, “I'm sure you'll do great, kiddo.” No, it was always an expectation—a demand—for perfection. Anything less wasn't good enough. Before Adrian could say anything, his father went on: “I haven't seen a charge come through yet for your textbooks.”

  Adrian shrugged. “I was gonna go tomorrow.”

  “Going to,” his father corrected, then added, “No time like the present.”

  Adrian stopped himself before pointing out that the university bookstore wasn't even open on Soldays, so he couldn't go until after eight tomorrow, anyway. “I'll
go as soon as they're open, sir.”

  “Good. Well, I must be getting to the office.” Yep, bloody workaholic. Sebastian Frost had worked for over forty years and still didn't believe in weekends. The man took a step forward, hesitated, then gave Adrian another nod. “Good day.”

  “You, too, sir.”

  His father let himself out of the apartment, and Adrian pressed his ear to the door, waiting to hear the elevator ding its ascent before he threw all the bolts and leaned back against the door with a sigh.

  “Love you, too, Dad,” he whispered, and went back to bed.

  Chapter 3

  ZAC FED his paychecks into the ATM, drumming his fingers as he waited for his updated balance to display. He held his breath as the screen changed.

  Come on, come on…

  Zac let his breath out in a whoosh. Thank gods! He could finally afford to go back to school. Maybe, this term, he'd actually finish his degree.

  Not that he really needed it, per se. He was already considered by many to be a professional musician, but he wanted to study as much about music as he could, and taking the last few advanced classes in Music Theory, Composition, History, and Appreciation—not to mention the highest level stage performance class the university offered—would go a long way toward rounding out his skills.

  Grinning to himself, Zac took his card from the machine and jogged back to his car, then headed straight for Denmer University. The sooner he had his tuition paid and his classes scheduled, the better.

  The registrar's office was busy when he arrived, dozens of students showing up almost at the last minute to sign up for classes. Zac fidgeted as he waited in line, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. After a moment, the tight pockets felt too confining, so he yanked his hands free again and fidgeted some more, silently praying the line would move faster.

  Zac grabbed a handful of his hair and dragged it forward over his shoulder, braiding and unbraiding the strands while he waited, just to give himself something to do. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Zac reached the front of the line and gave his name.