Freeze (Midnight Ice Book Two)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Freeze

  Midnight Ice Book Two

  By

  Kaitlyn Davis

  eBook Edition

  Copyright 2017 Kaitlyn Davis

  Cover Art: Manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis from an attribution licensed deviant art brush by hawksmont, an attribution licensed deviant art brush by Obsidian Dawn, an attribution licensed DeviantArt brush by kavaeka, a second attribution licensed deviant art brush by Obsidian Dawn, and a depositphotos.com image (C) zastavkin titled Beautiful Blonde Woman.

  Interior Image: Manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis from a public domain image by Arvin61r58

  The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All Titles by Kaitlyn Davis

  Midnight Fire

  Ignite

  Simmer

  Blaze

  Scorch

  Burn

  Midnight Ice

  Frost

  Freeze

  Fracture

  Shatter

  Once Upon A Curse

  Gathering Frost

  Withering Rose

  Chasing Midnight – Coming Soon!

  A Dance of Dragons

  The Shadow Soul

  The Spirit Heir

  The Phoenix Born

  Leena’s Story – The Novellas

  To my family for their unconditional love,

  my friends for their overwhelming support,

  and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Table of Contents

  All Titles by Kaitlyn Davis

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Preview of Fracture (Midnight Ice Book Three)

  More Books By Kaitlyn Davis

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Pandora woke in a fog of hazy memories, unable to see clearly, unable to think clearly, adrift in a space where time had no meaning. She blinked, once, twice, trying to clear the heady confusion.

  Slowly, a face came into view.

  A beautiful face, almost too perfect, as though chiseled from stone, crafted by an artist’s hands. Pandora had always thought so, even before he’d fully grown into those just-plump-enough lips and sultry hooded brows. The lashes that any girl would kill for were currently closed in sleep, hiding his best feature—those sometimes-brooding, always-loving seafoam eyes.

  Jax.

  Her heart thudded painfully.

  Painfully? Pandora thought, her own brows coming together in a frown as her chest continued to constrict, as her pulse quickened, as her groggy mind fought for clarity.

  Jax moved toward her, rolling almost imperceptibly closer in his sleep. A lock of hair fell over his forehead, slipping down over his eyes. Pandora reached for it instinctually, fingers moving on their own to push the wayward strands back behind his ear, to run through his silky hair, to feel him, to be near him.

  Her palm hit a wall, stopped by an invisible barrier.

  Pandora bolted awake, sitting up in an instant, bringing her other hand against the thick, unbreakable, pristinely clear glass.

  Jax, she sneered.

  Jax with his perfect lips and perfect jaw and perfect hands—hands that always knew just what they were doing, hands that could unravel her with the softest caress or spell her doom with the swiftest push of a button. Jax with his empty words and broken promises. Jax who made her love him twice. Jax who’d locked her in this cell.

  Pandora curled her fingers into furious fists. She slammed them against the glass as her blood boiled—her titan blood—and all the memories of the past few days came crashing down around her.

  Jax finding her in New York.

  Jax charming her.

  Jax traveling with her.

  Jax pretending he only had her best interests at heart.

  Jax make-believing he still loved her.

  Jax pressing his hands against her shoulders as the conduit fire started to rage around her, pushing the buttons to call the other titans, to tell them she was weak and vulnerable, to inform them her vampirism was being cured, to give them the signal to move in. Jax doing nothing as they carried her away, as they brought her here, to the titan jail, to the most fortified prison in North America.

  Four years of running.

  Four years of hiding.

  Undone.

  But that wasn’t even the worst part.

  Pandora closed her eyes, fingers falling open as they dropped away from the glass wall and collapsed in a defeated lump, no longer fighting, instead resting uselessly on her lap. Jax, the cell, the prison—all of it faded away as the memory washed over her. The memory she’d tried so hard to forget, the memory that being cured had unleashed from the hidden depths of her mind. The memory of her last night with the titans. The night Jax had been initiated. The night she’d run away. The night she discovered that her own father meant to kill her and no one, not even Jax, was trying to stand in his way.

  What am I?

  The thought came swift and quick, eliciting a gasp from Pandora’s lips as it sliced right through her, a deep, painful cut.

  What was she?

  And without even trying, she was drawn back—not a woman trapped in a prison, but a frightened girl huddled on the stairs, eavesdropping on a conversation she was never meant to overhear, balanced on the blade’s edge of before and after.

  Souls? Pandora could almost hear her father’s dark laughter as he spat the word at Jax’s father that night four short years ago. Don’t talk to me about souls. Mine broke a long time ago, on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, the day my daughter was born—the day her mother and I realized that the child we spent years trying to conceive, months planning for, a lifetime dreaming of, was a child who could destroy the entire world, was a child I would have to murder the very second she turned sixteen. Don’t talk to me of souls, Javier. I don’t have one anymore.

  Before that moment, Pandora had been a naïve fifteen-year-old about to run away with her one true love, dreaming of freedom from a life and a destiny she’d never wanted.

  And after?

  After, she’d been broken.

  Broken by the iron sound of her father’s voice as he spoke of ending her life.

  Broken by the sight of Jax in the woods, tattoo freshly carved into the soft skin at the base of his neck letting her know he’d chosen his side and it wasn’t with her.

  Broken by the lies.

  Broken by fi
nally having heard the truth and, instead of instinctively denying the possibility that she could mean something so evil, having the soul-crushing realization that all the pieces of her life were somehow falling into place, that somehow it all made sense. The fact that her mother killed herself. The fact that her father never once showed her an ounce of love. The fact that the titan parents didn’t want their children getting close to her. The fact that her power of invisibility never fit. The fact that she herself never fit.

  Pandora was born to be discarded.

  But that didn’t mean she’d go willingly. Because something else had happened during her four years of running and running and never looking back—she’d learned how to fight for herself.

  And I’ve become pretty freaking great at it, Pandora thought, taking a deep breath before feeling her lips twitch with the whisper of a smile. If I do say so myself.

  And then she stood, easing to her feet before brushing the nonexistent dust from her pants. Not bothering to take another look at Jax, Pandora reached out and coaxed her shadows, wrapping herself in a thin veil of ebony, letting the world fade as the darkness surged around her. She became invisible to the cameras relentlessly focusing and refocusing through the glass. The lens was constantly pinned on her location, searching for a target who’d disappeared.

  “Sam,” Pandora called into the space around her, knowing he’d somehow hear, knowing without a doubt that he’d come when she called. Because while she was strong and independent and sure she could figure out how to fight this battle on her own, it never hurt to have help. And as much as she hated to admit it, a small part of her brightened at the idea that there was at least one person standing by her side. A small part of her was grateful that she wasn’t completely alone.

  “Pandora,” a deep voice whispered, breath brushing the back of her neck, shooting a delicious little tingle down her spine.

  “Would you stop doing that?” she grumbled, jumping and spinning in one quick, shocked motion. Every freaking time, she thought, annoyed that she couldn’t control her own body’s response to his sudden appearance, couldn’t quiet the flutter of her heart. Maybe she could have when she’d been a vampire, but she was utterly human at the moment—and frustratingly hormonal, at that. Getting her period again for the first time in four years? Yeah, not fun. But it was almost over, thank god.

  Sam just shrugged, grinning. The shadows undulated around his frame, pulsing quietly as though they moved in tune with his heartbeat, somehow alive, somehow part of him. Then he quipped, “Probably not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I enjoy watching you squirm,” he teased, stepping next to her. And then he leaned closer, lips a hairsbreadth from her ear as he whispered, “And I like knowing that even after a thousand years, the sound of my voice still makes your blood sing. That even the softest brush of my breath still brings a swarm of eager goose bumps to your skin.”

  Pandora swallowed, cheeks growing warm as those very goose bumps he mentioned rippled with delight.

  But Sam stepped past her, letting his words linger, probably basking in the swell of feelings he knew they brought rising within her.

  Well, in that case… Pandora mused, mentally shaking herself out of it. Then she turned, tracking his movements before tossing out a single question. “A thousand years?”

  Sam lifted a brow as if to say, I thought you’d catch that. But he just cast a wry glance toward the glass wall of her cell. “Walk through that, and I’ll explain.”

  Pandora pursed her lips, fighting back a groan. She’d been in this cell for three days. And for three days, Sam had appeared, teased her with little tidbits of information, and goaded her into attempting to walk through solid glass. Guess what else had happened for three days? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because she could become invisible, and, well, that was about it.

  “You can do it,” Sam urged, tone earnest. “I know you can. The only thing holding you back is you, and the lies they always told you, the doubts they put in your mind to make you weak. Discard all of that, believe in yourself, and you’ll succeed. I know you will. After all, you’ve done it before.”

  Another piece of bait.

  Another juicy little tidbit for her to hang on to.

  When had she done it before?

  And how had he known her for a thousand years?

  And—

  Fine, damn you, Pandora cursed, taking a deep breath and stepping up to the glass. She needed answers, and if there was one thing she’d learned about Sam in the short time she’d known him, it was that answers didn’t come easy—if they ever came at all.

  Palms pressed against the cool glass, Pandora closed her eyes and drew the shadows closer, letting the darkness swell as she slowly sank deeper and deeper into the abyss, letting her mind empty, letting all thoughts of the real world drift away until there was only swirling black and Sam’s presence by her side. The prison disappeared. The cool presence of the glass faded. The boy lying fast asleep on the other side of the wall drifted away. When her body was entirely calm, entirely relaxed, Pandora took a small step forward, and—smack.

  Pandora groaned, eyes snapping open as the world drew back into acute focus, bright and mocking. She flicked her gaze toward Sam and noticed his frown.

  “You’re holding back,” he said.

  “I am not,” Pandora protested, glaring at him. “Maybe you’re just not explaining it very well.”

  “At the last second, you’re holding back,” he repeated, ignoring her accusation as he narrowed his eyes and stared again at the wall as though trying to unravel its secrets. “You don’t trust me,” he mumbled to himself. “Or maybe you don’t trust your power. Or maybe you don’t entirely trust yourself.”

  And why should I? Pandora mused, rolling her eyes. I haven’t exactly been the role model for good decision-making, what with turning into a vampire, letting the same guy break my heart twice, and falling for the same tricks over and over again.

  Sam whipped his head around as though he could hear the thoughts running through her mind, gaze inquisitive, blue eyes penetrating as he analyzed her. And then his expression cleared. “I have an idea.”

  Pandora rolled her eyes. “That’s new.”

  “Just take my hand,” he drawled, tossing her an amused stare.

  Pandora was immediately intrigued. Normally he danced around her, keeping his distance, getting close but not too close, teasing her with the warmth of his presence before gracefully pulling away. But now he held his palm out, golden skin lit with an inner glow that somehow absorbed the darkness always pulsing around him. Slowly, Pandora extended her hand and entwined their fingers. She inhaled sharply at the burning feel of his touch.

  “Focus on me,” Sam murmured, almost hypnotically.

  Yeah, like I could focus on anything else. Pandora almost snorted but managed to control it at the last second. His closeness was intoxicating, overwhelming. She couldn’t help but tighten her grip, thumb brushing over his knuckle. But as always, there was something not quite real about him—as though the palm touching hers was there, yet not. He wasn’t quite solid. Heat and life surged into her skin, yet her fingers felt wrapped around little more than a temporarily firm patch of air, as though Sam himself was little more than a shadow pretending for the moment to be a man.

  “Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice,” he continued, soft and alluring, pulling her in deeper. “Let yourself get lost in my world. Join me here. I know you can.”

  Pandora focused on the warmth of his touch, willing it to become more real, more solid. The shadows pressed closer, not needing to be pulled, only welcomed as they enshrouded her in darkness, wrapping her in ebony, stealing the light from her eyes and blackening out the real world. Pandora brushed her thumb against Sam’s knuckle again, this time feeling the soft ridges of his skin, the curves of his bones. He flexed his hand, grabbing her tighter, his own fingers dancing with hers like long-lost lovers finally returning home. Distantly, she hear
d his breath skip a beat, heard him release a long, trembling sigh, as though he’d been waiting a lifetime to hold her again, to feel her again. Pandora leaned in closer, pressing her shoulder against his arm, her hip against his leg, longing to rest her head against the nook of his neck, a spot she somehow knew she’d fit into perfectly.

  Sam stepped away.

  Pandora followed, thinking only of closing the gap between them, willing his ghostly presence to grow more solid with each passing second, willing him to life.

  Sam stepped.

  Pandora followed.

  Again and again.

  Until.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered, nose pressed to her ear, breath the lightest tickle.

  Pandora listened, holding on to her invisibility but letting the shadows fall away just enough for her to realize she’d followed Sam straight through the glass and cleanly to the other side.

  “I did it!” she said, spinning and throwing her arms in the air, body extending for an excited hug before her mind caught up and she froze.

  Sam sidestepped the embrace, little more than smoke and air and spirit once again. A smile wavered on his lips, sad for a moment before firming to something sturdy, something proud.

  Pandora dropped her arms to her sides, and she swallowed thickly, fighting the sting of rejection. A somewhat forced smile rose to her lips. “So,” she said, willing the grin to become real as the challenge rolled off her tongue. “I’ve done this before, have I? You’ve known me for a thousand years, have you? Time to spill. Start talking, mister.”

  “Walk back through by yourself,” Sam said, a challenge of his own, “and I will.”

  “Hey.” Pandora’s brows came together in a frown. “No fair.”

  “You want to escape this prison?” Sam asked, turning to face her as he slowly walked backward. “You want to get out of here alive? You’re going to have to learn how to walk through more than glass to do it. This is only the beginning, Pandora. Only the beginning.”