Lick of Frost

by J. A. Saare

  "Everything you've constructed, you mean,” she snapped. “I am not, nor will I ever be, yours."

  "Oh, but you are.” The smile vanished, replaced by anger. “Mating that beast of a man doesn't change anything. Oddly enough, it only increases my desire to claim you. I can absolve the bond you've made with him given time, or I can kill him outright. You will submit to me, do not doubt that. There is nothing I cannot do, nothing."

  "Except make me love you,” she whispered, meeting his livid blue eyes.

  "Oh, you'll love me,” he snarled, striding around the bed.

  She didn't move, openly defying him. Making love to Luke had changed her, bringing her to life. The fear she normally experienced was replaced with purpose and strength. Alexander couldn't harm her any longer.

  "Don't be so sure about that.” He wound his fingers into the hair at her nape, twisting until she went onto her toes. “There are so many ways I can torture you, and I'll enjoy every minute of it."

  "You have no power over me, not anymore.” She spat into his face, catching him in the eye and coating the strands of blond hair that framed his temple.

  "You willful little bitch. You honestly think you've found a safe haven.” The fingers near her scalp turned, and she winced as several strands ripped free. “It's laughable, really—that you can be so naive. But again, you always were nothing more than a child."

  No longer willing to bear his callous treatment, she planted her feet, grasped his shoulders, and sent her knee directly into his crotch. She knew that it wouldn't have the effect she truly desired, but it did send his body into a multitude of sparkling particles, as if he were a glittering portion of the air itself.

  His body solidified across the room, on the other side of the bed. This time, he was clothed in his ceremonial robe, his blond hair neat once more.

  "I'm ending my contract with the coven, Alexander. After giving my body freely and without compulsion to another, my allegiance belongs entirely to him. It's the way of the Covenant, and absolves me of any responsibility to you or yours."

  "You are so innocent, beloved."

  "You have no right to refer to me as such. You do not damn those you love."

  He smiled again. “But it's acceptable to deceive them, is that it?"

  "I never deceived you."

  "I'm not talking about you. I'm referring to the wolf you allowed to fuck and mark you. For your sake, I hope it was worth it. When I return to flesh this eve, you'd better be ready to beg for my forgiveness. I might grant it after I kill him."

  Anger made her bold. “I won't let you touch him."

  "Why not?” Studying her, he arched a brown brow. “Because he's mated you? Because of the tie formed when he took your maidenhead and came into your heart?"

  "I belong to him. I am his mate."

  Alexander smiled wistfully. “You've been horribly betrayed, beloved—wretchedly so. He has taken what you refused me with nothing more than a lie and a bit of fairy magic. I can't be sure of the source, as I lack the nose to smell. But I've seen the spell twined before, in a time when Judges patrolled and protected the realms."

  Insecurity made her doubt Luke. What if the Lycae had tricked her? He said she was his mate, and if he had the ability to touch her, she had reasoned that he had to be. The way she felt with him was unlike anything she'd ever known. As if she'd been missing a portion of herself that she only perceived when his presence brought the emptiness to the surface.

  "You're trying to trick me.” She narrowed her eyes, denying the possibility.

  "I have no reason to lie to you, Onyx. In all our time together, have I ever lied to you?"

  Her heart missed a beat, and she felt her blood run cold. Alexander never lied. He told her of his intention to claim her within a week of her contract. Through those times, even up to the sunny afternoon she struck him down in his chamber, he had never told her a false truth.

  "That's my beautiful girl.” He smiled. “It's so much better when you don't fight and permit me to love and protect you."

  "How did he lie?” she asked numbly.

  "Did you honestly believe the reason he could touch you was due to a whimsy of the gods? Why would they grant a creature of the earth such a gift? What could he have possibly done to deserve such a thing?"

  "Magic.” She breathed the word, lowering her eyes when tears burned the surface.

  "Yes."

  Kind hands wound around her arms, and she knew Alexander stood before her once more.

  "Foolish girl,” he chided. “You've waited so long for something that was instigated by the very thing that has trapped you in this life you abhor. The question is, what will you do about it?"

  The floor fell away, and she was flying, soaring through layers of black. Slowly, she shifted and recognized the warmth of the sheets surrounding her. Opening her eyes, she turned and peered at the empty pillow beside her. The outline of his head was still visible against the burgundy cushion, the heavy comforter tucked up as if he'd arranged it around her before he slipped silently from the bed.

  She thrust aside the sheets and blankets and crawled out of the heavenly warm cocoon quietly, gathering her clothing and attempting to calm herself and prepare her body and mind for the confrontation yet to take place.

  Who was lying? Luke, Alexander, or both?

  As she dressed, she felt the devastating weight of grief for the first time.

  Because deep down, she already knew the answer.

  * * * *

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  Chapter Nine

  "Twenty-five thousand dollars?” Luke sighed, lifted his head, and stared at the ceiling. The sun had risen hours ago, and now, he couldn't touch the mate who rested in his bed. “What in the holy hell did you have to buy, Trevor?"

  "The skin of a golden rhino. It's no’ a bad deal, Lycae. Consider yourself lucky that I managed tae locate someone tae purchase before I returned. No’ that I expect you tae be grateful. That would be asking for too much."

  "I'll have to go to the bank to retrieve the money. I don't keep that kind of cash on hand."

  The Warlock dismissed the words with a wave of his hand. “Doona worry. I know you're good for it, and it does no’ matter anyway. I promised the merchant payment by the end of the week. He owes me for banishing a gargoyle from his home."

  "So what do we have to do?"

  "I have tae make a circle tae twine the magic.” Trevor glanced up at him. “Unless you're willing tae come with me tae my apartment."

  "No.” He shook his head. “I want to be able to touch her when she wakes. We'll do it here."

  Trevor's eyes narrowed angrily. “Tell me you explained the magic was only temporary, Luke."

  "I didn't tell her anything at all."

  "You deceitful fucking bastard,” Trevor snapped. “How could you mate her tae you without being honest?"

  "Perform the spell, and she doesn't have to know. Once the hex is absolved, it won't matter."

  "You'd better hope the stoneskin curse sticks around for a long bloody while, Lycae. Hex or no, when your female gets wind of what you've done, she'll have your hide."

  Luke grunted in agreement, walked to the table, and moved it out of the way so the Warlock had room to twine the magic. Helen and Trevor had devised a plan for the evening, a chance to end the hex that plagued Onyx. But until then, he needed to be able to touch her.

  "Will my skin feel like stone?” he asked, snagging chairs to move as well.

  "No. It makes your flesh as solid and unyielding as stone, but it's only a barrier over the body, keeping it impervious to harm. Of course, it weakens as you use it, so you'll be lucky if it holds through the month."

  "We have to hurry. She'll be awake soon."

  "I'm already awake."

  He and Trevor froze at Onyx's cold voice, eyes going wide when they discovered the scorned female standing in the entranceway. She didn't give them time to think. One moment, she was standing imposingly, the next she was
across the room, grasping Luke's arm. He didn't pull away, even as the frostbite spread from her fingers and killed away the healthy tissue beneath.

  She released him, brought back her fist, and punched him squarely in the mouth, splitting his lip. The area her knuckles touched burned white-hot, and he knew it matched the hand imprinted on his arm.

  "You fucking bastard,” she snarled. “You lied to me."

  He knew arguing would do no good. He could hear the betrayal screaming in her skull, damning her for a fool. He wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, but her hands were bare and she'd taken one of his black wifebeaters from the closet, ensuring as much of her lethal skin was visible as possible.

  He spit blood onto the floor. “I never lied to you."

  "No, of course you didn't. Omission allows you the absolution of guilt, doesn't it? I hope you're happy. Now, I'm completely bound to you.” She laughed bitterly. “It must make you ecstatic to know the Ice Princess will always yearn for you, will always appear whenever you are in danger. You've just gotten yourself a free twenty-four hour protection service. Too bad you can't take advantage of the free piece of ass that comes with it. But then, I'm sure you don't have a problem luring unsuspecting women into your bed."

  "Don't push me, Onyx.” He bristled in anger. “I'm trying to explain, but I won't allow you to demean yourself like—"

  "Like what, a whore? If the shoe fits."

  "Stop it,” he snarled, wanting to shake sense into her. “You are not a slut. What happened was meant—"

  "Let me guess,” she interrupted again. “Meant to happen, right? Whether I want it to or not? Where have I heard that before?"

  The misery in her voice kept him from losing his temper and reminding her that he was nothing like Alexander. She had every right to feel betrayed. He knew she mistakenly believed he could touch her, and at the time, he chose not to clarify. He forced himself to remember that.

  "I didn't know how to tell you last night, but if you'll listen—"

  "That's the problem, Luke. I listened to that sugary sweet tongue of yours, hanging onto ever saccharine word until I would've given you the clothes off my back. Then, I couldn't help myself. I had to see if that sinful mouth felt just as good on my body as it did to my ears."

  She turned to leave, and Trevor blocked her path.

  "Doona allow your pride tae make you blind, lass. Listen tae the man."

  "Fuck off, Scottie,” she barked and walked around him.

  Her hurt was his, a terrible agony in his chest that refused to lessen. “Onyx, wait,” he called out, following as she scampered around looking for a door.

  She continued cursing herself in her mind, struggling to find some inner calm that did not exist. The turmoil came from their bond to one another, a link made all the stronger by the attachment she felt in giving herself freely to him. The part of her that took comfort in the instinct to trust him had become a scathing resentment.

  "We are mated, darlin'. Your instincts were right."

  "Don't do that.” She retrieved her coat from a couch before spinning around and facing him furiously. “Alexander invades the sanctuary of my dreams. Don't do the same by listening to my private thoughts."

  He struggled to do as she asked, knowing what she thought even as he tried not to listen. She rushed to the large front door, snagged the handle, and yanked it open without worrying if it cracked the plaster or slid free of the hinge.

  When he moved to stop her, Trevor's arm clasped his shoulder, keeping him confined inside the house as she raced down the stairs.

  "Give her space, Lycae. We have a spell tae weave, and she needs tae cool off. You can go tae her when the dust settles."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Ten

  "Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Onyx muttered and slid her arms into the worn leather jacket.

  Trusting a man was the most idiotic thing she had ever done, but the ultimate betrayal came from knowing Alexander had been honest with her while Luke had chosen not to be. She rebelled against the weakness that brought about her failure, raged at the need for comfort. Ultimately, this was her fault. No one else was to blame for the fate she willingly walked into.

  The sun had barely risen, meaning the morning cleansing would be taking place. She was lucky she'd woken when she did. The coven was strict about clearing both the body and the mind prior to an important ceremony, and this, without a doubt, was the most important of all.

  She sighed, tired though she'd had plenty of rest. Escaping the ritual was something she hoped to avoid. Alexander would home in on her specifically, and because of that, the coven offered her body as the vessel necessary for the bloodletting and sacrifice. He was the one they hoped to channel, and her pain and suffering was the outlet.

  Locating the coven was easy. She simply wandered the Quarter until she came across the row of black Mercedes parked along the street. She didn't bother asking for assistance at the desk, following the faint smell of amber, fire, and salt. The cleansing was well underway, and as she climbed the stairs of the fire escape and felt the heaviness in the air that identified a heady spell, she knew the entire building would be magically protected from prying mortal eyes.

  She entered the floor and paused, gazing from left to right. She noticed the black bag leaning against a door and knew it was the room intended for her. The coven didn't usually extend the courtesy, but then again, she had to be as physically clean as she was mentally. That meant a hot shower.

  Snagging the bag, she pressed the silver knob inward and stepped inside the small space. A white tiled bathroom was to her left, the beds against the wall just around the corner. She stepped just inside the bathroom before placing the bag onto a short wall-length counter. Removing the soaps and oils came first, and she situated each in the proper order along the mirror. Afterward, she removed the long white dress, leaving the plastic around the material. She took the hanger and turned the rounded hook before placing it over the top of the door.

  Steam crowded the room as she turned and adjusted the water temperature to the highest degree she could bear before she stood naked in front of the mirror.

  Luke's bite left the skin slightly bruised, the punctures small but obvious. The coven members would see the mark, but she hoped they would treat the wound with as much indifference as they did each broken bone or injury she suffered over the years.

  Turning, she climbed into the shower and stood quietly as the heavy currents of water splashed over her head and shoulders. Each hot stream washed Luke's scent away, taking the sweat and seed left behind and carrying it down the drain. The thought bothered her, but she didn't dwell on it long. Tonight, if everything went according to plan, she would vie for her freedom.

  She used the bar of soap inside the bag to wash both her hair and her body, knowing the ingredients were meant to cleanse away all impurity. The scent wasn't unpleasant, a combination of honey and milk. The honey signified the hard work of the nest, the milk the birth of new life.

  When she climbed out and reached for the oils, she hesitated. Her scent would be eradicated the moment she used them and would be replaced with magic. Luke wouldn't be able to locate her, not by smell, and if she remained in the building, not by telepathy.

  What do you care?

  He lied.

  Angry once more, she unscrewed the lid and poured the contents in her hands. Then she rubbed the minty stuff all over her body, starting at her neck and working her way down. When finished, she patted the remainder off with a towel. Sliding into the dress was difficult unless her skin was smooth and not wet.

  She went through the motions after that—drying her hair, pulling it into a twist on top of her head, and then donning the ceremonial dress. The cut was modest in the front but revealing in the back, baring her all the way to the indentions on either side of her spine. Dual slits along each side allowed free movement of her legs and displayed an indecent portion of skin. The white was beautiful, pristine to represent puri
ty. But that illusion would be shattered shortly. Soon, splatters of red would mar the thin cotton and then turn into muddled brown stains.

  Perched at the edge of the bed closest to the door, she waited for the knock and cringed slightly when it came. She rose, leaving her things behind. The two mages at the door guided her down the hallway to a large suite located at the far end. The door was open, and the smell of incense lined her nose.

  "Here.” Terrence didn't look at her as he indicated the spot in the center of a circle surrounding a star.

  She went to him, kneeled, and stared directly ahead as he removed a chicken from a cage and brought it over. A quick motion saw clawed legs thrashing, and she watched in a hazy detachment as the head of the bird fell upon the floor. A circle of the sacrificial blood was made around her, and then Terrence swiped the warm wetness across her forehead, creating a macabre cross. He handed her the silver chalice given over by a random coven mage, and she drank, gulping down the brew that would force her to heal slowly in two heaping swallows.

  "Do you offer yourself in service to your coven?” Terrence asked formally.

  She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. “I do."

  "Then bare yourself and display your worthiness to be chosen for this honor."

  Honor my ass.

  The flowing bell-bottom sleeves slid away from her arms, leaving her naked from the waist up. She pressed her torso to her knees and brought her arms beneath, placing her hands palms down on the floor.

  "Are you ready to repent and cleanse the souls of your coven?"

  Fuck you.

  "Yes."

  "Do you willingly offer your body as a vessel?"

  She wanted to smash his face into the nearest wall and watch him bleed, but it wouldn't do any good. This was necessary, something she couldn't deny them.