The Darkest Frost: Vol 2 of a 2-part serial (TDF, #2)

by Tanya Holmes

  “Braeden. No!”

  I scrambled over to him, crawling on my knees, but halfway there, his eyes opened, only to roll to the back of his head. I screamed, scooped him up, and called out his name as his life essence bled from Xavier’s body. It rose in a gray cloud that surrounded and embraced me. The effect was a warm tingling sensation.

  It…he hugged me, held me. Comforted me.

  And then Braeden Frost was gone.

  CHAPTER 21

  XAVIER’S SAFEHOUSE/BUNKER

  FREDERICK, MARYLAND

  Denieve

  ____________________________

  I was curled up in a corner on the other side of the room, bawling, hugging my knees, and rocking when Xavier finally awakened twenty minutes later.

  “Hey,” he yawned.

  I snapped my head up. Seeing him in control of his body again…of their body gave my agony an unwanted boost.

  “You okay?” Xavier rubbed his eyes. “Talk to me.”

  What good was talking? Talking wouldn’t do a damn thing to fix my broken heart. Part of me wished I could go back in time and never set foot in Braeden’s house. At least then I’d be spared this misery, this soul-wrenching pain. But then I wouldn’t have met him or experienced the greatest love of my life.

  My first love.

  “D!”

  “What?” I screamed through my mask, but it came out muffled. “He’s gone! Gone. And I may never see him again….”

  He crawled across the room and knelt in front of me. “Enough with the fatalistic crap. You don’t know what’s gonna—”

  “No, you don’t know.” I rubbed my blurry eyes. “Neither of you do. He said there were risks. That means I could lose him.” I pressed my fist to my chest. “I can’t lose him.”

  Xavier glanced off. “Yeah. I get it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “But now’s not the time to panic.”

  I just looked at him.

  His gaze shifted back to me. “I hate to bring this up, but we’ve got a deadline to meet—”

  “You mean the part about you fucking me? Well, it’s simple enough. Insert tab A into tab B. Isn’t that how it’s done?”

  He hung his head. “Look, I know you’re upset…”

  “Upset? What’s there to be upset about? We have a task to complete.” I shoved to my feet and wiped my eyes again with my fists. “After all Braeden’s sacrificed, we can do our part.”

  He glared up at me. “So it’s a task now, is it?”

  “Do you have a better definition?” At his baleful look, I said, “This coming from the man who all but cursed me the other night.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I guess that excellent memory of yours doesn’t extend to the hateful nonsense that flies out of your mouth. You think I don’t remember what you said at Luke’s house? I wasn’t that delirious. Excuse me while I paraphrase.” I deepened my voice to make his. “‘And you have the balls to expect me to give up everything for her?’ Then you said something about how you wouldn’t even be in this mess if I hadn’t darkened Braeden’s doorstep.”

  He shoved to a stand, wobbled, then caught his footing. “Okay, if that’s the way you see it, why don’t we just do it now?”

  “I’m not doing anything with you…with your…” I made a wild circular gesture with one hand. “Pheromones flying all over the place. Been there. Done that. If I have to endure this, I want to be in control of myself. Not behaving like some skeezy nympho.”

  His brow shot up. “Endure?”

  I ignored his bitter expression. In fact, I couldn’t even look at him anymore. Eyes down, I slapped my words out fast and furious. “How long?”

  “How. Long. What?” His voice was brittle.

  “How long until your pheromones wear off?”

  He went eerily still. “Another hour or two.”

  “Whatever.” I headed out. “We’ll do it tomorrow then.”

  He wheeled around. “Where are you going?” I could feel his eyes burning into my back. “Hey! I asked you a question.”

  “To bed!” I snapped over my shoulder.

  “You haven’t eaten anything today.”

  I couldn’t see straight for the tears. “I’m not hungry, Xavier.”

  He yelled something else, but I didn’t hear. The white noise of my grief and despair drowned him out. I headed to my room and crawled into bed. Feverish and heartsick, I tore the mask off and pitched it at the wall. After that, I cried myself to sleep.

  * * *

  Denieve

  ____________________________

  Just after twelve noon the next day, I awoke with the peace that comes from an empty mind. I always loved those first few moments of tranquility when the blissful ignorance of sleep still cradles you.

  Ten seconds. Maybe fifteen. That’s how long you get before reality slams you in the face. And I got slammed big time. Yesterday’s troubles hit me like a charging bull. Braeden might be gone for good. Gone as in forever and ever. How was I supposed to function with this darkness hanging over my head?

  The only bright spot? My fever had broken and the brain fog had lifted. This would seem like a good thing, right? Well, not necessarily. The mental fuzziness would’ve been a potent shield against the barrage of negative emotions plaguing me now. All because I couldn’t shake what I’d seen in Braeden’s eyes: Uncertainty. Anxiety. Fear.

  And the jealousy he still denied.

  Scowling, I threw the covers off. Xavier had set a pretty tray topped with a fresh fruit salad, OJ, black coffee, bagels, and a thermometer on the nightstand.

  He’d also left a note.

  Eat! And take your temperature. It should be 98.9.

  —X

  PS: Braeden made it back. He’s fine. So’s Luke.

  Oh, thank God. My heart lightened, but then I read his second postscript and my anxiety returned tenfold.

  PPS: When you’re done sulking, come to my room so we can finish this.

  I rolled my eyes and shoved the thermometer into my mouth. Minutes later, I tossed it back on the tray. Yep. 98.9. I grabbed a bagel and picked at it because the thing tasted like cardboard. The cream cheese and fruit were just as bland. No question, they were fresh. Everything was. I guess I didn’t have an appetite, but I ate for the baby’s sake, all the while fearing nothing would ever taste good. Or look good anymore. I even doubted the sun would ever look bright.

  I was far from a doom and gloomer. I was an optimist. A fighter. A pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps kind of girl. My motto? When life gives you lemons, screw the limes. Make margaritas! But now? Today? Hell, I was barely holding it together. I didn’t even know my own thoughts. Maybe this was part of the Yoreck transition. Of me becoming like them.

  Now there’s something I hadn’t pondered. What did it mean to become Yoreck? Would I lose my mind along with my mortality?

  I wanted to be brave, to understand it all, but it was hard. I was transitioning and pregnant with a Yoreck child. And my baby’s father—no, scratch that—fathers were two Halves of a Whole, a Whole I’d screwed while drugged up on alien pheromones—

  All right, Ian McBride wasn’t an alien per se, and neither were Braeden and Xavier. They were more like, what? Fallen hybrid angels? Angel half-breeds? I sighed and buried my face in my hands. Whatever! I didn’t need to understand it now. All I knew for sure was I had to save my baby, Braeden, and my own life along with…

  Yeah. Him.

  Xavier.

  I had to have sex with a crazy person, a crazy person who did strange things to me, both physically and emotionally. All this lay heavy on my mind while I forced myself to get ready for this “Sealing” situation. I still didn’t understand it. Or the Alpha business. I doubt I ever would.

  The only thing I was certain about was how Braeden really felt. I didn’t believe for a second that he was okay with this. Sure, he put on a brave face, the same way he’d done after Ireland. Forget the fact that he’d thrown us together. Jealousy didn
’t operate on logic. It was visceral.

  While he encouraged me to complete…this task, I still suspected he needed me to love him more. Or better. That he needed to be my number one. Was I imagining this? I don’t know. Once again he’d tossed Xavier and me together even though it was eating him up inside. But he accepted it because he didn’t have a choice. So I too would accept it. I would do this because it would save my baby. Because I loved Braeden, and it was the only way we could be together—whatever that meant.

  Yes, whatever that meant. I’d take Braeden Frost any way I could get him. Half. Whole. Partial. Didn’t matter. So Xavier was a necessary evil, which is why I had to put some distance between us. Emotional distance if I was to remain true to the one who’d brought me to the party—or better still, the nightmare. At any rate, my heart and soul belonged to Braeden Frost.

  Yes. To Braeden Frost alone.

  I had to blink out everything else. Especially the memories of how Xavier made me feel when he held me in the tub, during our poetry discussion, and outside with the diadem, and inside with our hands in the sink, and every other infernal thing that happened in that kitchen, as well as all of our other…interactions.

  They confused me too much, so I had to let them go.

  Something easier said than done.

  I avoided him the rest of the day. When he delivered a lunch tray, I slipped into the bathroom and didn’t come out until he was gone. I did the same thing later when he brought my dinner. He answered my absence with a scowl and a slammed door.

  It must have been the last straw for him because he launched another war by proxy an hour after dinner. Only this time instead of food, music was his weapon of choice—all in a disgusting attempt to provoke me.

  Just after sundown, he started blasting an R&B mother load of sexually suggestive titles. Stuff like “Let’s Get It On,” “Rub You The Right Way,” and “Sexual Healing.” The absolute worst was that damn “Pony” song from the Magic Mike movie. I didn’t have to guess what pony he wanted me to ride!

  It took an eternity to decide what to wear, which was laughable since I didn’t have a lot to choose from. The real question was how much or how little should I put on? What would be easier? Fully clothed, semi, or naked? After forty-five minutes, I went for a happy medium: a robe and nothing else. This way we could do what needed to be done without the awkwardness of getting undressed. I could keep the robe on while he…Sealed me, or whatever the procedure was, and then, well, I wouldn’t have to worry about the unnerving silence afterward. I could just get up and leave.

  By the time I made it to Xavier’s room, he’d switched genres, but the tawdry lyrics didn’t change. Maroon 5’s “Animals” screamed from behind his door. I must have stood there for at least five minutes working up the nerve to knock, yet when “Animals” led to Prince’s “Darling Nikki” I’d had enough.

  I tore away, but I’d only taken two steps when he called after me.

  “Leaving so soon?” he yelled above the noise.

  I froze, wide-eyed. He’d known I was out here all along.

  He’d waited for me.

  “You want an engraved invitation?” he barked.

  I squared my shoulders and went back to the door. Once I entered the lion’s den, I found the lion leaning against the opposite wall next to his stereo, arms crossed, head cocked.

  And speaking of cocked….

  The ever-present erection straining his jeans may as well have had a flashing neon sign on it. “Um…” I tore my eyes away and tried to keep my voice from shaking like my knees were. “So.” I lifted my arms from my sides. “I’m here.”

  “That you are,” Xavier said in a bored a voice, looking me up and down with disdain. He stabbed a button on the stereo, plunging us in silence.

  I took the room in. He’d cleaned up the blood, but a shadow remained on the wall where the splatter flew. The bullet hole was still there too. The bed was made. New pillowcases. New sheets.

  Sheets.

  Memories of Braeden flooded me. Of the last time we’d made love. The short moment I’d held his ungloved hand. The kiss we’d shared while he controlled Xavier’s body. He wasn’t here now. He was sitting in some cold jail cell and I was about to have sex with…

  No matter how many times he said they were the same person, my mind rejected it. Braeden was Braeden and Xavier was Xavier. Two people couldn’t be more different.

  No backing out now. You have to do this.

  I swallowed my reservations and eased down on the bed. Xavier hadn’t stopped staring at me since I walked in. His face had no expression other than a troubling thought-line between his brows. One hand stroked the scruff on his chin as he watched me. The other lay fisted beneath his elbow.

  He was making me nervous. I folded my hands in my lap and waited, but he didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Just kept looking with that weird non-look on his face. A minute passed and still he stayed plastered against the wall, his gaze fixed on me. What was he waiting for?

  The silence was too damn loud. I couldn’t stand it anymore so I took the initiative and scooted all the way to the head of the bed, plumped up a pillow and laid flat with my arms at my sides. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of him. That poker face I mentioned? Well, it was gone. Replaced by something I had no problem identifying.

  Contempt.

  Those blank, impassive eyes had hardened. Nothing but pearly white teeth lay behind the cruel smile creeping across his face.

  He was angry. But why? Had I done it wrong? Should I have waited to get on the bed? Maybe talked to him about what we were about to do? I turned my head and stared at the ceiling as these and more questions thrashed around in my mind.

  Another minute into his silence, I still felt that hot stare. It burned. “Xavier?”

  He shoved from the wall and paced the floor at the foot of the bed.

  I pushed myself up. “What’s wrong?”

  “What could possibly be wrong?”

  Okay. He was in a mood. The best thing for both of us would be if we just got it over with. I eased back down. “Is…ah. Is this all right? On the bed? Or…do you want me to—”

  “Water,” he blurted. “And lot’s of it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Get up.” He was still pacing. When I frowned at him, he stalked over and hauled me off the bed. “I said get up.”

  “Wait!” I tried to yank free, but his grip was like iron. “What are you doing?”

  He clutched my elbow as he marched me to the door. “My duty, of course.”

  “But—”

  He tore into the hallway. “We’re doing it in the water.”

  “Is that a requirement?” I asked, stumbling after him.

  “Yeah, you could say that.” He picked up the pace. “Come on.”

  When I stumbled again, he scooped me into his arms. “Xavier! What is going on?”

  The only answer I got was the ticking muscle on the side of his face as he took the stairs to the first floor. We crossed through the rustic living room, passing an overstuffed leather sofa and a roaring fireplace. A narrow hallway greeted us. Three more stairs led to a heated sunroom. Two ceiling lamps breezed above. Glass encased the main wall, providing an unobstructed view of the forest with its towering evergreens and shadows. Inside, moonlight glistened along the wide planks of the hardwood floor, and centering it all? A huge, bubbling hot tub with steam hovering above the surface.

  “You planned this?”

  “Nope.” He set me down none too gently. “Not planned. I just knew.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “Knew what?”

  Without saying a word, he reached behind his neck and ripped the shirt over his head, tossed it. He kicked one sneaker off, yanked at the other, and pitched it at the glass. I gasped, expecting the wall to shatter, but the shoe just bounced to the floor.

  “Don’t worry,” he mumbled, “it’s bulletproof.”

  “Xavier? What’s wrong?”

  “Not
hing.”

  I looked away when he went for his jeans. That seemed to enrage him even more because his movements grew jerkier, his hands working double time. And when his buckle rustled, I closed my eyes. Next came the sound of a descending zipper. Pants and belt hit the floor. The snap of his underwear’s elastic waistband followed, with him yanking it down.

  Yes, I heard that too.

  Now he was naked, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Silence thundered between us, until he scowled and climbed into the tub with a loud splash. Water sloshed over the rim.

  I opened my eyes.

  He was staring straight ahead. “You going to stand there all night?” he said, his voice gruff. “Let’s go.”

  The way he looked, I wasn’t sure if the steam was rising from the water or from him. Get this over with? Well, that was one thing we could agree on.

  “Yes. Let’s.” I lifted my chin. “Do you mind if I keep my robe on?”

  His eyes cut to me. “Suit yourself.”

  He reached for a remote on a table beside the tub and aimed it at a sound system. After he sifted through a series of play lists, “FUCK MUSIC” scrolled across the track window, then the title “Play” displayed, followed by the name David Banner. A rap song exploded from the speakers. Its jaw-dropping first verse included the P-word and “wet.”

  Seriously? “You have got to be kidding,” I spat. “Turn that off!”

  Xavier shrugged and clicked the button again to a song by Buckcherry called “Crazy Bitch.” When I glared at him, he rolled his eyes, clicked something else on, then tossed the remote. “This one stays. Now get in.”

  This one was “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. “Do you have to listen to that trash?”

  “Puts me in the mood,” he said with another careless shrug.

  He’d had an erection for three damn days, an erection that was pointing north and bobbing beneath the bubbling water. I scowled. “As if you need any help.”