“I’ll wait for you to shower if you want,” he said softly, not mentioning the nightmare or anything that happened after, as per usual.
Pandora shook her head, pulling her dirty T-shirt off while she kept her words decidedly neutral. “Nah, I’ll wait until after training. It’s supposed to be like a million degrees out today.”
“A million degrees, huh?” he asked, mattress squeaking as he sat.
Pandora didn’t need to look at him to know there was a challenging little smirk dancing across his lips, she sensed it. Yet her eyes still pulled in the direction of her shoulder, forcing her head to turn until she was gazing at him.
Jax sat on the bed with his back to her, brown skin glistening with water droplets that shimmered from the soft light pouring in through the window. The rest of the bed was in shade, as though the sun had felt that same magnetic pull twisting Pandora’s gut, and its rays had been compelled to shine solely on him. His black hair was wet, sticking to his neck, hiding half of the tattoo branding his skin, labeling him a titan. A bead of liquid dripped, tugged by gravity as it slid down the canyon his strong shoulders created, following the path of his muscles and trailing down his spine, before disappearing into the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist.
Pandora snapped her eyes away and yanked a clean shirt over her head. Her mind might not have forgiven Jax, but her body had an annoying habit of forgetting that fact.
On second thought, a shower might not be a bad idea. A nice, cold shower…
The thought made her pause because Jax had showered last night before dinner. And he almost never showered in the morning, not in the enclave, and not here in Sonnyville, especially not before an afternoon of training that would leave them both drenched in sweat.
A smug grin tugged at her lips.
Evidently, her body wasn’t the only one with a mind of its own.
“Ready to head downstairs?” Jax asked a minute later. Pandora nodded, turning to find him fully clothed and watching her suspiciously. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Like what?” She shrugged, biting her lower lip to hold it in place, but the edges of her mouth wouldn’t obey and stubbornly remained uplifted.
“Like you’re up to no good,” he grumbled.
Pandora released her lip, letting a wide, full smile spread across her cheeks. “Am I ever?”
And then she spun on her heels and flung open the door, leaving Jax no choice but to follow. Halfway down the stairs, the aroma of maple syrup and batter made its way to her nose, eliciting a groan. Pandora jumped the last three steps, using her titan agility to her advantage, and raced to the kitchen.
“Pancakes or waffles?” she asked the second she crossed the threshold, then stopped short at the sight of the chaos she’d stepped into. The counter was covered in dirty bowls and whisks. Batter-drenched spoons were sitting on the stone, dripping everywhere. Eggshells rested on an empty plate. Orange peels were in a mound, piled high in front of the half-filled jug of juice. Flour hovered in the air like fog. And in the center of it all stood Luke in an apron that was decorated with the statue of the David, a ratty old shirt, and, thankfully, his boxers.
“Waffles, obviously,” Luke chimed from his spot next to the stove where he stood hovering over the most high-tech waffle maker Pandora had ever seen. Back in the day, she’d made her own with a cast-iron mold that might have once belonged to her grandmother. But this kitchen was chock-full of every fancy gadget anyone could imagine, thanks to the newly engaged couple and a little thing called a wedding registry. Seriously, they had no bed frame for their guest room, but three different types of juicers.
“Luke’s just biased because he knows I make superior pancakes,” Kira said from her spot at the table, tossing the words nonchalantly out, not bothering to lift her head from her computer.
“You make superior everything,” Pandora said, confused. “But aren’t you supposed to? I thought you were training to become a chef.”
“Apparently, breakfast is the husband’s domain,” Kira said, taking a brief pause from whatever she was reading to roll her eyes and shrug.
“My dad always made breakfast on the weekends,” Luke said, gaze intense as he waited for the signal to flip the waffle maker over. His entire body sprang into action when the little light turned red. “He said my mom deserved a break from feeding us all week, so he let her sleep in on Saturday mornings. When I got up early, I’d always come downstairs and help him get everything ready so when my mom and my sister woke up, and well, eventually my little brother too, all the food was ready. In a Bowrey household, the men are responsible for brunch. And in a few weeks, this will be a Bowrey household—” He paused, sensing the pointed stare Kira was tossing his way. “Okay, in a few weeks this will be either a Bowrey or a Dawson-hyphen-Bowrey, household, which means breakfast is on me.”
Kira closed her laptop, glancing at the spot where Pandora and Jax had paused just inside the door. “I believe the answer you were looking for is yes, we’re having waffles for breakfast. And if I were you, I’d sit down, because it might be a while.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the waffle maker beeped.
“Aha!” Luke cried, opening the top and flipping one perfectly golden-brown waffle onto a clean plate. “Who wants the first one?”
“We’ll share,” Kira jumped in hastily, leaping from her seat to grab two more plates, the maple syrup, and some forks. When she brought everything over to the table, she murmured to Pandora, “There are three burned waffles in the trash can, so who knows when the next serving will be ready. Eat up.”
And then she split the waffle into fourths, giving everyone a quarter and saving one for Luke, before turning back to the fridge. Five minutes later, while Luke was stationed next to the waffle maker like the picture of intensity, Kira had chopped a handful of strawberries, whipped some fresh cream, pulled together a quick blueberry compote, and sat back down with her fiancé none the wiser.
“So…” Kira said, trailing off as her gaze flipped between Pandora and Jax. “Rough night, again? Like I said, we might be able to help, if—”
“What were you looking at on your computer?” Pandora cut in, staring down at her plate to avoid having to look into Kira’s annoyingly perceptive gaze.
The conduits were doing her an enormous favor by letting her hide out in their base and not reporting her or Jax to the government or the titans like they were supposed to do, and Pandora wanted to leave it at that. She’d already pulled Jax and Naya into her mess, and she didn’t want to get more people involved if she could avoid it. For one thing, the story didn’t exactly reflect too well on her—lover of the devil, who instead of murdering him thousands of years ago, somehow locked him in a prison realm and used her own death as the key to his confinement. The conduits liked her and wanted to help her, but there was no guarantee their opinion wouldn’t change if they learned the truth—the whole truth. Right now, she had their sympathy, and she wanted to keep it. And for another thing, she didn’t see how involving them could possibly help. They were basically fire-wielding vampire slayers. They had no access to titan secrets, no access to any of the information she needed, so why take the risk?
No, she was here to wait for Naya, someone who might actually be able to help her access her memories and find some answers.
And that was all.
“Just reading emails and working on my new food blog,” Kira said casually.
“Have you gotten any updates about travelers moving toward Sonnyville?” Pandora asked, trying to quell the anxious pitch flooding her voice. The conduits were trying to help locate Naya, but there wasn’t much to go on. And Jax had never had any interaction with her at the jail aside from walking outside of her cell a few times on his way to Pandora. Without something of hers to use as a guide—a piece of clothing or jewelry—there wasn’t enough for him to track. “Anything with vampires being controlled? Or maybe any sightings of a black jaguar totally out of place in Florida?”
Kira sighed, shaking her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. We’ve put out feelers all over the place, and no one has heard anything.”
Where are you? Pandora silently pleaded, tapping her foot against the floor. She and Jax had arrived in Sonnyville a little over a week ago. Sure, they’d mostly been on a motorcycle and in a car, but even if Naya had been making the journey on four paws, she should have been there by now. Something had to have happened. Something must have stopped her, must have—
No, Pandora cut in on her worrying. Enough. Naya’s fine. Maybe she got word of her brother and went to look for him. Maybe she got lost. Maybe she’s having trouble finding the conduits. Or maybe she went home for help. A million things could have happened. Just because she’s running late doesn’t mean they have her.
But even as she thought it, Pandora didn’t really believe it.
Not with the way her luck had been.
Sharp claws clenched around her gut, squeezing painfully tight, because deep down she knew something must have gone wrong. And deep down she knew it was her fault. For befriending Naya. For leading her to the enclave. For not forcing her to save herself. For selfishly keeping her in harm’s way so she could talk to her mother’s ghost. There had been a hundred opportunities to free Naya from her bargain, to let her go and save her brother and live happily ever after, but Pandora hadn’t taken a single one.
And what if now she was hurt or dead or dying?
Or worse?
“She’s fine,” Jax whispered, squeezing her thigh beneath the table, a gesture that was second nature.
Pandora lifted her gaze slowly, meeting his.
He snatched his hand back, recoiling as he remembered he wasn’t supposed to touch her in the daylight, wasn’t supposed to comfort her as if everything were okay. Jax looked back down at his plate, taking a big bite, and chewed for longer than necessary as his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched.
“I’ll try to do some more digging,” Kira added, face full of concern. “It’s just not as simple as usual because we don’t want to give the titans any reason to think you’re here. And if they know we’re looking for her, well, you know, but I’ll see what else I can do.”
“Thanks,” Pandora mumbled. She took a deep breath, trying to let the sugary bliss of maple syrup clear her downwardly spiraling mood.
“Next round of waffle goodness, coming right— Whoa.” Luke paused as he reached the table, sensing the dejection in the air around them. “What happened over here? Did Kira try to rope you into wedding planning again?”
He tossed a small grin in her direction.
Kira wrinkled her nose at him, but then her entire face brightened, more obvious than if there were a lightbulb floating above her head that had suddenly turned on. “I didn’t, but now that you mention it, I could use some help with the invitations.”
Pandora and Jax groaned in unison.
“Please, anything but that,” Pandora said, shooting an accusatory glance at Luke, who retreated to the other side of the kitchen.
“Well, okay, if not invitations, what about centerpieces?” Kira asked hopefully, not giving Pandora a moment to respond before continuing. “My grandma thinks I should do roses, but that’s so traditional. And my friend Emma is completely over the top and keeps sending me lavish flower canopies that would probably cost more than this house. And Pavia is no help at all. She’s fully in support of sneaking off to some Caribbean island to elope, even though I know she’s a total romantic at heart. And, well, I was thinking something a little simpler, more beach chic with driftwood lanterns and maybe a few simple flowers, but I don’t know. And my mom is totally preoccupied with the fact that my little sister is finally going through puberty and actually has a boyfriend, so, basically, I could use some help.”
Pandora glanced at Jax.
In two seconds, they had an entire conversation without needing to speak.
They’d wait for one more round of waffles, because it was idiotic to turn down a great breakfast when one presented itself. And, well, the homemade whipped cream Kira had made was freaking delicious. Pandora would do her best to be enthusiastic and helpful for the next ten minutes. And then they’d split for the practice grounds to do what they liked best, punch things.
Done and done.
Jax shrugged and got up from the table to see if he could help Luke. And Pandora turned to Kira, letting the buttery scent of waffles fill her nose, giving her the extra ounce of motivation needed to plaster a smile across her lips.
“Have you ever thought about peonies?”
Chapter Two
“Let’s run through the drill one more time,” Jax said, lifting his palms as a target.
Pandora sighed but took a deep breath and formed her fingers into fists, fighting her aching muscles. In all honesty, it felt good to burn, to be alive. In all her efforts as a vampire thief, that was the one thing that had been missing from the thrill of the fight—the ache, the pain, the perseverance to push through and the satisfaction of reaching the brink. As a vamp, there were no limits. But even with impenetrable titan skin and incredibly heightened titan endurance, her muscles could still reach a max—it just took a while.
They’d been out here for hours.
But even a million punches wouldn’t be enough to clear the frustration mounting beneath Pandora’s skin, simmering to a boiling point, about to pop.
“Come on,” Jax urged, as he shifted his hands from position to position.
Pandora attacked, switching from a hook to a jab to a cross, throwing in a front kick, then an uppercut. Sweat dripped down her bare arms, hot in the blazing sun. Training in Florida was a bit different from training in the middle of the Rocky Mountains—stickier, for one. Smellier, for another.
A little more naked too, she mused, half-assing a punch while she took in the view of Jax’s bared chest, bronze skin baking in the sun. Needless to say, it was more than a little distracting. He’d stripped down about half an hour before, shirt soaked through. Not that she had room to complain—Pandora had gone first, peeling off her tank top, leaving only a sports bra behind. But she was rather annoyed that her lack of clothing didn’t seem to be bothering him at all.
“You’re not shifting your weight enough,” Jax prodded, teaching and goading at the same time.
It worked.
Pandora pulled out a roundhouse kick to his abdomen, eliciting a grunt and a grin from his lips. Her next punch held a little more power, forcing him to take a step back as she hit him off balance. But he was stronger and better trained. Those four extra years with the titans had paid off. While Pandora had been adjusting to life as a vampire on the run, turning to petty crime before her dealings with the head vamps had forced her to master her craft, Jax had become an expert in a vast array of martial arts. He’d been taught all the skills he needed in order to capture and contain any number of supernatural creatures he might be forced to track.
Pandora’s strength had always been in her ability to remain out of sight—her invisibility, her stealth, her cunning. She was used to fighting opponents who couldn’t see her. Even if they were taller and stronger and more skilled, she always had the upper hand. But she’d cut herself off from the shadows, from her greatest source of power, and now she felt weak, like a child learning how to swim, fighting the waters that were dragging her under.
“Let’s take a break,” Jax said, easily catching her fist in his hand, biceps flexing as he held it in a vicelike grip that stopped her dead in her tracks, reminding her yet again how much was left to learn. “Have some water, cool off for a second.”
But Pandora shook her head. “No, I want to keep going.”
“Dory, there’s no point in tiring yourself out.”
She lifted her fists and bent her knees into a fighting stance. “I want to keep going.”
He sighed, holding out his palms again.
She shook her head. “For real this time, Jax. Let me see how long I’d last.”
He s
hook his head with a shrug but did what she asked.
They circled each other for a little bit, taking turns testing the waters, leaning close and jumping back, waiting to see who’d make the first move. It reminded her of the enclave. Pandora had always been the worst in hand-to-hand combat. She preferred archery, agility courses, the shooting ranges. Because even though she was tall for a girl and strong, she’d never been particularly confident. And confidence was a requirement in this sort of fighting—the confidence to attack, to take charge, to trust her instincts.
Part of her wondered if the titans had left her that way on purpose, unsure and weak, just so they’d be able to control her better later on. They’d given her the illusion of a lethal education, letting her attend all the training sessions just like everyone else, without bothering to teach her properly. It had always been left to Jax to show her the right way to stand, to punch. They’d have sessions in their shared backyard or in the open area around the tree house. He always gave her the close attention she’d required, the attention the titan coaches never offered. Back then, she’d been happy to sit back and watch and learn, to run through endless drills, to wait on his next move before deciding her own.
But things change.
And it came as no surprise to either of them now when Pandora surged forward with the first punch, swinging for Jax’s head with near wild abandon as her patience wore out. He blocked her easily, shielding with his forearm and stepping to the side. Pandora charged ahead, no longer lacking the confidence to attack, even if still lacking the skill required to follow through. Jax shoved her arm to the side, sending her somewhat off balance as he sank low and swiped for her legs. But Pandora nimbly jumped over his feet, slippery and evasive as always. Jax rolled over, avoiding her kick, and jumped deftly back to his feet, facing her once again.
He was hardly trying.
She could read the hesitation etched into his face, and all it did was piss her off.
Pandora launched forward, quicker than Jax as she lobbied a punch at his face, feinting high so he would block without seeing the right hook she sent directly into his gut. He stepped away, grunting with annoyance as she peppered him with a cross and a jab, forcing him back as he continued to block, not attacking, still not trying. Pandora heaved a front kick directly into his chest, which he’d left unprotected for the barest instant. He stumbled away, but his extra weight and strength kept the blow from landing too hard. While he was finding his balance, Pandora nailed him right in the cheek—a hit that would leave a mark, given their slightly weakened titan healing—and that was finally enough to light a fire behind his seafoam eyes.
Freeze (Midnight Ice Book Two) Page 22