Frost

by E. Latimer

  I clutched the flashlight until my hands hurt, my heart thundering in my ears. “Who—”

  The man's eyes went wide, and he threw one hand up. "No!"

  Someone gripped me around the shoulders from behind, and something damp and smothering pressed over my nose and mouth. Panicked, I clawed at my face. Trying to scream, trying to breathe. My head spun, and black spots jumped in front of my eyes.

  Then a wall of darkness slammed down around me.

  ~ * ~

  The motion is as natural as breathing, the fluid, violent dance of war. My sword feels warm in my grip as I face my enemies—dark shadows against our moonlit snow, a crowd of disorganized rabble, little better than barbarians in their ugly, brown furs and tromping boots.

  I watch them cradle their flames to keep warm. We will not return home until their blood falls scarlet on the snow. I blink against the glare of the sun, and my vision blurs for a moment. I squint, and sharp pain lances through my temples.

  The sound of the battlefield fades, replaced by angry voices.

  As I surfaced from the fog, the smell was the first thing that struck me—the musky, cloying odor of smoke hanging in the air.

  The second was how sore I was. Every muscle was screaming, and I was lying on something hard. A wood floor? Cement? No, it was moving.

  From somewhere in front of me came a low, angry voice. "I told you I could handle her."

  "The queen gave orders."

  "She would have been receptive to me..."

  I tried to lift my head and a wash of dizziness followed. Had he just said queen?

  "Oh, come now. You think you can just charm the girl? She wouldn't come with you because you're dreamy."

  "Do not mock me, Caleb. And put that out. It's disgusting"

  It wasn’t just dark. There was something over my eyes. I could feel it. Horrified, I tried to rip the blindfold off and discovered I couldn’t move. The floor beneath me was still vibrating. Okay, I was in a car. Or a van, more likely.

  When I stopped to take stock, I could barely feel my arms—they were so numb. My hands were tied behind my back. I was lying on them. Tentatively, I tried to move my legs and found them tied as well. Jolts of panic ran through me, making me nauseated and weak. Visions of the terrible things I'd heard on the news ran through my head like a macabre slideshow.

  "Well, you didn't need to truss her up like that," the first voice said sharply. "She's a slip of a girl. Are you afraid she'll be too much to handle?”

  Even in my current predicament, my mind repeated the phrase slip of a girl. At six feet, that wasn’t something I’d expected to ever apply to me. The man standing on my lawn, he'd been taller.

  "I had my orders," the second voice, the one called Caleb, said. "You know how much is riding on this. I'm not going to go and make her mad, am I?"

  "You let me deal with her when we get to the palace. I won't have you manhandling her like that again," the first voice grumbled.

  “You’ll damn well do as you’re told, soldier.”

  Soldier? The palace? What the hell. Was this some kind of joke?

  Something was digging into my back, and I squirmed around on the hard surface. Obviously, we were going to be driving for some time. Last I’d checked, there were no palaces in Grande Prairie.

  After a while, I gave up and lay still, jostled by the bumps and ruts in the road, trying hard not to hyperventilate. It was impossible to tell how long we’d been driving. Especially because I could have been unconscious for hours, for all I knew. My back was stiff, and my cheeks were tight where tears had dried. Plus, the smell of smoke was giving me a headache.

  One of the men—Caleb, I thought—spoke up suddenly. "What's that?"

  The van began to slow.

  Neither man spoke for several seconds, and then the other voice said, "Roadblock?"

  "Oh, that's just great. ‘We’ve got a girl tied up in the back, officer. Hope that's not a problem.'"

  "I’ll deal with it." Caleb’s voice again, this time low and threatening.

  “Of course you will. Freeze first, ask questions later, right? That seems to be your method.”

  I processed this while the van slowed to a halt. Freeze? As in what I’d done to my first kiss?

  An electric whir signaled the van window being rolled down, and then someone said, "Hello, boys..."

  A shout came from outside, and I stiffened against the ropes. There was a dull thud and a muffled groan, and someone yelled, "Caleb!" and then the voices cut off abruptly.

  More shouting, shuffling, clunking and then something slammed into the side of the van, and I gasped. Silence. Then a scraping sound behind me. I concentrated on breathing evenly, every muscle in my body so rigid that I was almost vibrating. My eyes shifted rapidly behind the blindfold, panic bursting my chest.

  Something creaked, metal against metal—the van door—and fresh air blew in across my left side. There was a distant grunt, and I pictured someone levering themselves into the back of the van.

  I couldn't stand it any longer. "Who's there?"

  The shuffling moved closer, and something brushed my cheek. I flinched, and whatever it was drew back.

  "Hold still," a deep voice murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  Fingers grasped the blindfold, tugging it upward. The sudden flood of light made me blink furiously, my eyes watering. Gradually, his face came into focus. A mop of dark curls framed a friendly face with warm, brown eyes. He had a black earring in both lobes, the wooden kind, and a short layer of scruff on his jaw. He was smiling at me. He was adorable.

  He also wasn’t moving.

  "Could you untie me, please?"

  "Oh!" He blinked. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. Here. I'll help you sit up." He looped one arm under my shoulders, guiding me into a sitting position.

  I flinched when he reached for my wrists to tug at the knots. My emotions were all over the place. It wouldn’t surprise me if I accidentally froze him. “Just be careful…”

  When he looked up, I flushed, not sure how to explain. His mouth curled at the corner in a half smile, and he bent his head, returning to the knots. “I’m not worried. I’m Loki, by the way. You must be Megan."

  "How do you know my name?"

  "I was sent to make sure they didn't get you."

  "Sent by who? And who are they?" The ropes went slack, and I sighed with relief, rubbing at the sore spots on my wrists. “Thanks. We should go to the police right away. Wait, are you the police?”

  Loki shuffled down toward my feet, still on his haunches, and began picking at the knots at my ankles. He bit his lip like he was trying to repress laughter. "They really didn't tell you anything, did they?"

  "Tell me what?" The men had talked about freezing someone earlier. Maybe this wasn’t something the police would be able to help with. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that I can't feel the cold? Am I some kind of genetic freak? Wait, is this a government thing?"

  "Um..." Loki smoothed a hand over his jaw. "Something like that. Come on. We have to get you somewhere safe. These guys won't need their van for a while. We’ll borrow it." He helped me to my feet, his hands on my waist as he guided me across the piles of junk heaped in the back of the van.

  He jumped down off the tailgate, boots crunching on the snow, and offered me a hand. "Come on. Steady now."

  My legs shook as I stepped onto the snowy road, careful to tread slowly so I wouldn't slip. Wind whipped past me, penetrating the thin nightgown, blowing my hair back. I blushed a little as Loki steadied me with his hand on my shoulder.

  "Not cold at all, huh?"

  I shrugged. "No. I don't know what's wrong with me. Thanks for the rescue, by the way. What did you do to those guys?"

  "Ah, they'll be fine." Loki waved one hand dismissively. "Minor concussions is all. Their skulls are too thick for it to really make a difference."

  We came around the front of the van. Two men were lying on the side of the road, sprawled out in the snowbank. One I rec
ognized as the man who'd been standing on my front lawn. I stepped forward for a closer look, taking a shaky breath to steel myself. He almost looked like he was sleeping, except for the blood on his temple. He had very blond hair and sharp, cold features.

  I shivered and glanced over at the other man. Shock punched me in the chest.

  There was no mistaking the beanpole figure splayed out on the ground. His spectacles lay beside his head, one lens shattered. Beside his left hand was the butt of a cigar, black ashes speckling the snow.

  "Mr. Scott?"

  "Someone you know?" Loki leaned against the van, hands in his pockets as he watched me.

  "My English teacher." I rubbed at my eyes, as if that might make it go away.

  Mr. Scott was the creep following us around?

  "Okay." I rounded on Loki. "Tell me what's happening."

  "Get in." For the first time, he looked stern. "I have to get you somewhere safe first."

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to get back in the van. But it was either that or stay there with Mr. Scott.

  "Fine. But explain on the way."

  "Deal."

  The keys were still in the ignition, and Loki got us turned around, heading back toward Grande Prairie.

  "Where were they taking me?"

  "Jotunheim, I expect."

  When I stared at him, he blinked. "What?"

  "That word sounds made up."

  Loki shrugged, turning back to the road. "Well, it's not. It's where the jotun live."

  "The who?"

  "This is going to be a long ride." He cleared his throat. "You girls are from a very long line of jotun. I mean, you're not full jotun. You've only got some blood in you, but it's enough."

  "What the heck does that mean? Is that some kind of family name? How does this explain why I can't feel cold?” I crossed my arms and pressed my back into the seat, squirming. "And why did the first guy I kissed turn into a Popsicle last month?"

  Loki glanced at me again, a crooked little smile appearing on the corner of his mouth. "You had your first kiss last month?"

  "I tell you I froze someone and that's your takeaway?" I blushed furiously and looked down at my bare feet. A pool of slushy ice had formed beneath them.

  To my profound relief, Loki turned his attention back to the road. "I'll try to explain. Those people back there are your kin."

  "What? Like, family? I don’t have one. Just Uncle Dave.”

  His smile flattened. "None of your story is really true. You weren't abandoned. Your human mother was...convinced to leave you at a young age."

  I blinked rapidly, almost expecting tears though my eyes were still dry.

  This was all terrifying and confusing.

  When I spoke again, my voice cracked. "Why?"

  "I think maybe the queen believed the bond between a real mother and her child was too strong.” His voice was quiet. “Plus, your mother would have known who your father was."

  "The queen?" I was barely keeping up here.

  Maybe this was some kind of weird reality TV show. What would it be called Kidnap and Prank? Pretty sure that was illegal.

  "Wait, did you say my father? He works on commercial fishing boats or something. I’ve never even met him.”

  "That’s not exactly true, either," Loki said grimly. "Your father was a full-blooded jotun. A frost giant."

  Chapter Eight

  I couldn't help it. I laughed.

  It wasn't a particularly happy laugh. In fact, it sounded more like the hysterical bleat of a terrified sheep. Loki stole a glimpse at me out of the corner of his eye. "Don't believe me?"

  I wanted to point and laugh at him, to call him a nut case. I wanted to shrug all of this craziness off and go back to California. Then I looked at my feet, at the puddle of melted ice that felt like bath water, and I knew he wasn't lying. It was still hard to wrap my head around though.

  "I can understand if you need a minute," he murmured.

  Out the window the silent, white landscape rolled by. My mind felt like scrambled eggs—one big, jumbled mess. "So, this queen—she's jotun."

  Loki’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his knuckles paled. “She is.”

  "And she had some jotun men go and...and have sex with human women. The babies were adopted. And now, she's trying to get us back?"

  "The ones who survived, yes. She had more. Some of the blood didn't mix well, and some of it died out altogether. But a lot were successful. They're bringing them to the palace now. We think it was some kind of experiment."

  I looked at him sharply. "And who is we? What's your stake in all of this? Are you with the government or something?"

  "Not quite. I'm a son of Muspel, of the Fire Giant Clan." He said it with a flash of pride, straightening his shoulders.

  I groaned, leaning back against the seat, scrubbing my hands across my face. "You've got to be kidding me. I was barely dealing with this frost giant thing."

  "Sorry, but it's true. Our people have pretty much always hated each other."

  "Then why are you helping me?"

  Loki hesitated. "I'm supposed to make sure you don't get to the queen. That's all."

  "What does the queen want with me?"

  "We're not sure. She experimented with human and frost giant blood. But we've always mingled with one another, so that's nothing new. We've had surveillance on her for some time now, since she's bound and determined to start a war and kill us all, so we know she has plans for you. We just don't know what those plans are."

  "Well, that's comfortingly vague," I muttered.

  "All I know is that you don't want to get mixed up with her. She's sort of a bitch."

  Clearly, since she’d ordered them to knock me out and all that. I dug my nails into the leather seat. "Where were they taking me? It couldn’t have been anywhere near Grande Prairie."

  "It's not near anywhere, actually."

  I groaned. "You're going to tell me it's a different dimension or something, aren't you?"

  "Something like that." Loki bit his lower lip, fighting smile.

  Not something I could think about right now.

  “So, what now? We're going to lie low until she gives up on me?"

  His smile faded. "She won't give up on you. You can't stay in Grande Prairie. Do you have friends anywhere else?"

  "I... Yes, I guess so. I could go back to California for a while." That didn't sound bad at all.

  But Loki was shaking his head. "No, I'm saying you'll have to hide there permanently. They'll keep looking for you, so you can't come back here, and you can't tell anyone where you're going."

  I frowned, my chest constricting. "But my unc—"

  "They can't know. No one can know."

  "But they'll be worried." At least, Uncle Dave would be. Janet would probably throw a party if I went missing.

  “Sorry. That’s just the way it has to be.” Loki flicked the turn signal on, eyes focused on the road. “You have to run. These people don't play games, and they're not nice."

  The memory of the smothering cloth pressing over my mouth and my nose was still sharp in the back of my mind. I shuddered.

  "I'm sorry." He reached a hand out, and his fingers brushed mine, surprising me. "I really am." Then he withdrew.

  I found myself a bit disappointed. I had the crazy impulse to grab his hand and hold on. Somehow, he was both strange and comforting.

  "Look, I'll take you there—to California. It will take a few days, but this van should get us there."

  "Is that part of your job too?" I asked. "Driving me to California?"

  "Sure it is. Why not?" Loki punched the buttons on the radio, tuning into a rock station.

  I lay back and shut my eyes for a while. My mind wandered as I tried to picture how this would play out—me running away to California without telling Dave—but I just couldn't do it. He would notice I was missing. Other people would too. Like the people at school.

  Charlotte's face swam in my mind's eye, and I jerked uprig
ht, guilt pulsing in my stomach. I hadn't even considered the girls at school.

  Amy and her friends must have been taken the same way I had, but what about Charlotte? Was she one of us? Maybe Amy was right in thinking she'd missed the cut. Loki had said that the experiments with mixing blood hadn't always worked. Was Charlotte a castoff? I hoped so. The thought of someone clonking little Charlotte over the head and dragging her off made me break out in a cold sweat.