Freeze (Midnight Ice Book Two)

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Freeze (Midnight Ice Book Two) Page 13

by Kaitlyn Davis


  “Come on,” Sam whispered, drawing on the shadows.

  Together, they edged closer, stepping softly over the shallows, trapping the sound in the darkness. Sam released her hand and gave her a push, laughing softly, letting his mirth fill the charcoal mist. Pandora stumbled on overly excited feet, making her way to the center of the pack, careful not to disturb their peace.

  She was mesmerized.

  Throughout her childhood, she’d dreamed of seeing the wolves up close. Pandora had spent more nights than she could count in these woods, sneaking away from the enclave to study the animals, envious of their lives—the simplicity, the total reliance on natural instincts, the lack of duplicity, of secrecy. In the wild, there were no haunting memories, no endless questions, no unachievable dreams, no disappointments. There was eat and play and love and hunt. There was survival without the weight of humanity making everything messy. And she’d observed as many animals as she could over the course of her solitary youth—bears, elk, deer, bison, rabbits, foxes, rodents. But never the wolves. Graceful and elusive, they normally didn’t travel so far south. But then again, Pandora had no idea where she was, where Sam had brought her through the shadows.

  She glanced up and found him across the blanket of white fur, expression tender. His smile deepened when she didn’t look away, when she held his gaze, silently thanking him for this moment. And then he arched his head back, cupping his hands before his lips, and howled into the vacant sky.

  His voice didn’t puncture the shadows.

  His cry didn’t echo across the night.

  But it touched her.

  Haunting. Beautiful.

  Holding something he wouldn’t, or maybe couldn’t, say out loud.

  And somehow, the wolves heard. One stretched its muzzle toward the moon, crooning. The rest followed, a symphony of yips and yowls, all different yet all merging into one voice, one song. Pandora leaned back, sending her own secret prayer up to the stars, letting her voice join the wolves, letting it travel outside the darkness and into the light. And they responded, merging her song with theirs, sending it higher, answering her plea to belong for a moment.

  A lone wolf howled in the distance.

  The pack froze.

  A moment later, they were gone, disappearing back through the trees, dashing across the forest floor toward that call on the edge of the horizon.

  But Sam was there.

  He brushed his fingers against her shoulder, then gently trailed them down her arm, creating a blazing path to her palm.

  “Dance with me,” he murmured.

  Pandora glanced up, tracing the lines of his face. “Dance? But there’s no music.”

  He leaned close, breath a warm caress against the skin of her neck as he whispered, “That never stopped us before.”

  Sam placed her arm around his neck and cradled the other against his chest, swaying slowly to the sound of the wind.

  “I don’t know the steps,” Pandora said, self-conscious. Her feet had never felt so large. Her long limbs had never felt so gangly. Her heart had never raced so fast—so uncertain, so unsure, so entranced.

  “You do,” he promised, putting his cheek close to hers, wrapping the shadows closer. “Do you know why I showed you the wolves?”

  She shook her head.

  “Because I know you, Pandora. And I knew you would love them. And just as I knew that, I know that if you let me guide you, the steps will come, because we’ve danced them before, a long time ago, yes, but I remember it like it was only yesterday.”

  “I don’t,” she confessed.

  He moved, bringing them nose to nose, no space between them, no place to hide. “I don’t want you to, because watching you now, it’s as though I’m experiencing everything for the first time. And I don’t want the feeling to end.”

  Pandora glanced away, overwhelmed, and then gasped.

  They were in the center of the lake.

  He’d moved them over the water, across it.

  The shadows billowed beneath their feet, suspending them in midair, not disturbing the stillness of the inky surface. The stars reflected through them, unaware of the two lost souls hiding in the darkness. Everywhere Pandora looked, the world sparkled, a sea and sky of pure glitter.

  She tightened her arm around Sam’s neck. “How?”

  But he wasn’t interested in talking. While she gawked, amazed, he drew her into his arms, spinning her around, so the world became a kaleidoscope of color with Sam at its center. Pandora followed his lead, moving where he moved, stepping where he stepped. The ebony mist spiraled around them, smoke caught in the draft of their motions, rising with their steps, surrounding them in a midnight haze.

  But Pandora hardly noticed.

  Her attention was entirely on Sam. Her eyes were glued to his, her body was molded to his, being pushed away and always pulled back, until there seemed to be music playing softly somewhere, a tune only they could hear, echoing across their ebony paradise. Her feet moved on their own, anticipating his strides, matching them as they danced across the water. A carpet of stars was their stage, but eventually, that faded away, until everything was gone except for Sam. The world was black but brighter than it had ever seemed before. He was the sun, the moon, the center. And she twirled around him, always returning home.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered as her back molded to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. Her head tilted up, pulled by a force she couldn’t control—the spell his voice had cast over her. “Forget everything, and stay here, with me.”

  He took her hands in his and lifted them high above her head, turning her in her spot, so they were face-to-face. Her arms fell naturally to his shoulders. His palms found their way down her sides, then rested on the small of her back, touch burning. She arched her face up. He leaned his down, pausing no more than a centimeter away. Golden hair cascaded down, surrounding her in a halo, blocking out the shadows, blocking out the world.

  “Let me be enough,” he pleaded.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  He lifted his hand, finding her cheek. “Let us be enough.”

  Could they be enough?

  Could this be enough?

  She didn’t know.

  Maybe?

  But the words wouldn’t come. And her time ran out.

  The shadows washed over Sam, covering his golden skin in a veil of smoke, pulling him away. And though she wanted to hold on to that moment, the darkness won, as it always did. His touch grew softer, fading away, like a strong gust of wind vanishing as swiftly as it came.

  He disappeared before her eyes.

  He left her.

  And before Pandora could process the goodbye, she was falling, dropping through the shadows, returning to earth with a very rude and wet and cold awakening.

  Frigid water shocked her system.

  The splash filled her ears for a split second before her head went under.

  The lake swallowed her.

  And though her instincts were to fight, for a moment, she remained suspended in the cold, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss, into the calm, into the silence, into a different sort of darkness.

  The numbness washed over her. The heat of Sam’s presence faded. For a moment, she was a vampire again, body cold as the pain of humanity turned off. And it felt good to forget for a second. To float in oblivion as her body shut down, as her mind shut off.

  But her throat started to burn.

  Her chest started to ache.

  So she called the shadows back and dove into her darkness, her power, letting it revive her as she took a long, shuddering breath. Suspended in the ebony mist, Pandora reluctantly considered Sam’s plea. Could he be enough?

  As lovely as the idea sounded—to forget everything, to leave the titans and her questions behind, to run away with Sam and never look back—could a boy ever really be enough? She’d made a plan like that before, and past experience whispered that it never turned out well. Until
she found out what she was, who she was, what her life meant, nothing would ever be enough—nothing but answers.

  Pandora reluctantly brought Naya to the forefront of her thoughts and used the jaguar as her anchor, returning to a world that didn’t seem to want her. But it was stuck with her. For now, at least.

  When she opened her eyes, Naya was still asleep.

  But the sky wasn’t.

  The smallest slice of gold broke through the darkness. The world was waking up. And if the night was for lovers, the dawn was for fighters. Which was exactly what Pandora was—a warrior hardened for battle, not a naïve girl blinded by infatuation.

  Been there, done that, she thought, shaking her head to clear Sam from her thoughts.

  Rolling her eyes with a heavy sigh, Pandora nudged Naya awake.

  The sleeping cat growled softly.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get up and keep moving while the sun is out. We might make it before nightfall if we’re lucky.”

  Naya rolled to her feet, transforming back into a woman as Pandora wrapped them both within the shadows. But apparently, jaguars needed their beauty sleep, because the girl was cranky as she eyed Pandora with one brow raised and her arms tightly bound across her chest.

  “What?” Pandora asked, cutting to the chase.

  “Where exactly might we make it?” Naya asked smoothly, attitude tangible. “I’ve been pretty good about giving you your space, but your reluctance is making it clear that wherever we’re going, I won’t like it. And if we’re about to dive headfirst into danger, I think I deserve to know.”

  Pandora grunted.

  Naya raised her other eyebrow, not backing down.

  “To the place I grew up,” Pandora confessed, because Naya was right. Deal or no deal, she deserved to know what she was getting herself into. “To the titan enclave.”

  Naya grumbled incoherently.

  “So you can help me speak to my mother,” Pandora finished quietly.

  Naya paused, gaze softening. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “I made a promise,” Naya countered, as though the response was obvious.

  “Yeah, and I’ve heard that before.” Pandora released a sad puff of air. “It’s not that I don’t trust you to keep your word. I do. I guess I was just, I don’t know—”

  “Afraid?” Naya supplied.

  Pandora shrugged. “Maybe? But you’re right. You deserve to know where we’re going, especially when it’s another titan stronghold. I’m not asking you to break in with me—I can do that on my own. I’ve done it before. I’m just hoping you’ll wait nearby until I get back with something of my mother’s so you can connect me to her.”

  Naya chewed on her lip for a few seconds, at war with herself, struggling between her fear and her integrity. Her anxieties won, barreling out as though her throat were a loaded gun. “And if the titans follow you? If they find me? What then? I just escaped, and I’m not going to get caught again. I can’t, not when my brother needs me, not when he—”

  “You won’t get caught,” Pandora interrupted, touched that a girl she’d only known for a few days was so clearly caught between keeping her word to a stranger and saving the brother she dearly loved. But it wasn’t a choice, not really—at least not one Pandora would force her to make. “If the titans come, whether we’ve gotten through to my mother or not, I’m giving you permission to bail. As soon as they sense me, they’ll let you go. Run away and keep running, right to the conduit base, which is in Florida by the way. Start ordering vamps around, and the conduits will find you before you have a chance to find them. Go save your brother and forget about me, if it comes to that. This isn’t your fight.”

  Naya dropped her shoulders, looking deflated, as the air left her in one whoosh. “I promised to help you.”

  “And I promised you freedom.” Pandora shrugged, and then grinned. “Besides, I’m sure I could find another medium if I had to. You’re not as special as you think you are. I, on the other hand, have an entire race of supernatural beings hunting me down. I’m irreplaceable.”

  Naya raised a brow. “You don’t look very special.”

  “Looks are deceiving.”

  “Good, because at the moment, you’re giving me an aura of wet dog.”

  Pandora glanced down, having forgotten that she was soaking wet and still dripping with the lake water she’d splashed into.

  “What happened to you?” Naya asked.

  Pandora held out her hands and then let them fall. She had nothing. “It’s a long story.”

  “Then I don’t think I want to hear it,” Naya replied smoothly. She jumped, leaping across the dirt, and landed fluidly on four paws. She glanced over her shoulder as if to say, Are you coming?

  Pandora bit her tongue and marched forward.

  Cats, she thought, snorting as her mind flashed back to the sight of the wolves the night before, almost otherworldly in their beauty. I’m so freaking over cats.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A few hours later, when Pandora was practically asleep on her feet, she remembered that cats weren’t so bad. At least, not this one. Some cats were soft and fluffy, making the perfect mattress for an escapee on the run without a whole lot of time to settle down for a nap.

  “Try not to bite me this time,” she quipped as she wrapped her arms around Naya’s neck. The jaguar bucked, kicking out her hind paws, nearly sending Pandora to the ground. “All right, all right. I mean, thank you.”

  Naya purred.

  Pandora rolled her eyes.

  We have a very strange thing going on here, she thought, amused, as she dropped her head between Naya’s shoulder blades and tried to adjust to the gentle, repetitive motions of the walk. Given her exhaustion, it didn’t take long.

  Sleep devoured her.

  And then the nightmares came.

  She blinked, adjusting to the bright sunlight as she stepped through the clay doorway, dipping low, careful to keep the meticulously beaded headdress from slipping to the side. She’d been preparing for this day her entire life—her sole purpose, her one obligation. She wouldn’t let weakness overtake her, no matter how hard her heart pounded, how vigorously her legs trembled, how tight her throat closed.

  Her family was waiting outside.

  She paused, swallowing thickly, as her mother stepped forward.

  “My child,” she murmured, eyes glistening, wet with tears she refused to shed—tears she’d been holding back for sixteen years. “Bless you.”

  She knelt as her mother slipped a few strings of carefully hand-dyed clay beads around her neck—white for purity, red for the blood oath, black for her power.

  Her father came next. He was silent as he stretched forward, unable to speak as he slipped another garland across her shoulders. This time blue for honor.

  Then her sister, crying silent tears that slipped to the ground beneath their feet, then dried instantly on contact with the burning red dirt. In her hand, she clutched a string of green leaves, carefully picked for their bright colors, a sign of the peace her sacrifice would bring.

  When her sister couldn’t move, she reached forward, being strong the way she needed to be as she carefully peeled back her sister’s trembling fingers one by one and placed the string around her neck. Then she squared her shoulders, turning away from her family as she breathed deep, trying her best to remain calm.

  The rest of her people waited in two long rows, leaving an open path down the center for her to walk through. And though the robes draped over her shoulders were heavy in the hot summer sun, she ignored the sweat dripping down her spine and walked on. Her eyes grew blurry, moist, but she blinked it away. Flowers cascaded over her, well-wishes and thanks, praises and promises, celebrations and remembrances. Sprinkles of water splashed her cheeks, her hands, but she hardly felt them. Incense filled her nostrils, but the herbs smelled like ash.

  The shadows waited at the edges of her vision.

&nbs
p; She would not call upon them.

  Not today.

  The dais loomed larger the closer she traveled, ringed in the image of her people, a circle with twelve points and one center. Somehow, she found the strength to lay her body upon it as her robes were repositioned to fan over the edges. Their leader followed behind, but she couldn’t hear his words. Her ears had started to ring, and the tone was deafening. Her vision grew black as her power called out to her, begging her to fight. But she closed her eyes.

  It did nothing to help.

  He was still there, in the edges of her memory.

  He brushed his fingers over her cheeks, traced her lips.

  Haunting. Alluring.

  Her heart burned, trying to break free, trying to run to him even if her body would not. She could feel his lips on her lips, his hands digging into her hair. Could hear the promises rolling off his tongue.

  Stay with me.

  Be with me.

  Choose me.

  But she couldn’t.

  The back of her neck began to burn. She opened her eyes to find the world was awash in a glittering cerulean haze. A blade glinted in the sun, hovering in the space above her chest. Her fingers rattled against the stone, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t move. The prayers rose in a cacophony around her, lifting to the sky in the same moment the knife struck.

  Metal sliced between her ribs.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Over and over.

  Her blood poured out.

  The world grew dark.

  But in that moment, she smiled. Because she was done. She’d made it. She’d remained strong. By the time they lit the fire, her body was already gone. She felt no pain as the flames rose all around her, washing the world in angry red. She was separate, something else, somewhere else.

  “Next time,” he whispered as her world darkened. Because of course he was with her in the end, with her in the ebony slowly closing in around the fire.

  Was it the sky or his blue eyes that watched over her?

  Was it fire or his caress that burned her cheek?

  Was it the sun or his golden hair that broke through the coming night?

 

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