by Elise Faber
Frost
A Rendezvous Collection
With stories from
Elise Faber, K.D. Wood, C.C. Ravanera & Kelly Martin
Foreword by Rachel Van Dyken
Blue Tulip Publishing
www.bluetulippublishing.com
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2015 ELISE FABER, K.D. WOOD, C.C. RAVANERA, KELLY MARTIN and RACHEL VAN DYKEN
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
FROST
a RENDEZVOUS cOLLECTION
FIRE AND ICE
Copyright © 2015 ELISE FABER
RENDEZVOUS IN ROOM 311
Copyright © 2015 K.D. WOOD
WISHES
Copyright © 2015 C.C. RAVANERA
THE THINGS WE LEAVE BEHIND
Copyright © 2015 KELLY MARTIN
ISBN: 978-1-942246-66-4
Cover Art by Jena Brignola
TABLE OF CONTENTS
FOREWORD
FIRE AND ICE
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
NOTE FROM AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
RENDEZVOUS IN ROOM 311
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
WISHES
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
THE THINGS WE LEAVE BEHIND
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ALSO FROM BLUE TULIP PUBLISHING
FOREWORD
I can't think of a better way to spend the holidays, than with a brand new book. I love cuddling up near the fireplace with hot chocolate or wine, and relaxing with some of my favorite authors, so it should come as to no surprise to you that this book is my exact cup of tea!
In a busy world full of holiday lists, deadlines, family get togethers, good memories, and sometimes bad, it's important to take time to relax and allow yourself to just enjoy the season.
You've already given yourself an amazing head start by buying this anthology, what follows are tales of romance, suspense, mystery, and love, but most of all, talented heart felt stories that are bound to warm you up from head to toe wherever you may be!
I hope you enjoy just as I did!
#1 New York Times Bestselling Author, Rachel Van Dyken
FIRE AND ICE
by Elise Faber
For anyone who’s ever felt like they haven’t had a home… sometimes you find one where you least expect it.
PROLOGUE
In the beginning there were four.
Earth. Air. Wind. Fire.
They met, mated, and gave birth to a magical race that can control all four elements.
The Rengalla can live centuries, travel great distances in the blink of an eye.
They can also love.
More completely, more violently than humanity has ever known.
In the beginning they were all good.
But with power comes corruption.
Black magic festers. It infects and poisons. The dark magic’s markings begin in the palms, travel up the arms and across the torso.
And when they cover the heart… all good is erased.
When the heart is encased in blackness, a monster is born.
The Dalshie are those monsters.
And they will not stop until they’ve hunted down and destroyed each member of their former race.
CHAPTER ONE
“We’re done, Steph.”
Unfreaking believable, she thought and pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at it as though it had grown horns.
Either that or she’d stumbled into an alternate universe.
Clearly, those two scenarios were the only reasonable explanations.
Because Trevor was not breaking up with her.
There was no way she’d sublet her apartment, concealed her magic for the last months only to have her A-hole of a soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend — because after this stunt she was definitely kicking his ass to the curb — break up with her.
The front door to Hotel Toujours opened with a screech, and a gust of wind and rain burst through the opening before whoever had come in managed to close it. Flashes of twinkling lights from the Christmas trees dotting the lobby danced across the surface of the counter, jovial-colored flecks that fit nowhere in the vicinity of her mood.
Footsteps sounded across the floor, and Stephanie rushed to finish her conversation before the person who had come in could make it to the front desk. “Look,” she said, cutting off Trevor’s incessant talking, suddenly feeling very done with him, with his constant push-pull of hooking her in and shoving her away. Patience had never been Steph’s strong suit, and Trevor had tested every single inch of it.
But loneliness had won out the last six months, and she was abruptly aware of the stupidity of the notion.
“I’m done, okay?” she said to the sound of his sputtering. “Just put my stuff in a box, and I’ll pick it up when I finish my shift.”
All noise cut off as Trevor finally stopped talking. She could practically feel his confusion and annoyance radiating through the phone line. “I’m breaking up with you.”
Whoever had come through the door approached the registration desk and hesitated.
She glanced up, forced a smile, and held up a finger but didn’t bother to actually look at the person’s face in front of her, only registered a tall, male form. The sheen to the black leather coat adorning those wide shoulders managed to steal her focus more than the man himself.
He’ll ruin that leather; she thought and adjusted her grip on the receiver, knowing she’d needed to end this conversation with Trevor about five minutes ago.
She s
ighed. Hotel Toujours was as expensive as hell, but everyone who came in was the same. They were all a blur of faces who didn’t give a damn about her so long as she got them into their rooms as quickly as possible.
Which was her job, she reminded herself. Not exactly a surprise or something she should be whining about.
“Steph,” Trevor said, disrupting her thoughts. “I’m breaking up with you.” He repeated it like she was a foreigner who didn’t understand the language.
“Noted,” she muttered and hung up. “Have a nice life.” God, he was such a jerk.
The soft clearing of a throat brought Stephanie back into herself. “Oh! I’m sorry How—” She glanced up, finally comprehended the face of the person in front of her.
Her words faltered.
Her tongue went dry.
Liquid longing filled her for a brief, agonizing moment before being forced out by red-hot rage.
Dominic was standing in front of her.
CHAPTER TWO
“What are you doing here?” Steph asked.
Her blue eyes were glacial, chips off an iceberg. And her lips… It only took one glance, one heartbeat in her presence, and the past reared up and threatened to swallow Dom whole.
He remembered the feel of her mouth, the way her body had molded to his, had been so soft in his arms—
No. That wasn’t what this was about.
All of the reasons for leaving Steph alone still existed. Dom was too old. Too damaged. Too—
“We need to go,” he said, pushing the memory — the one time he’d given in to his urges with regards to Steph — aside. This wasn’t about the past. “It isn’t safe.”
Dom had come from the Colony, where he and the rest of the Forgotten — humans who had been experimented on during WWII in an attempt to activate genes in their DNA that would enable them to control elemental magic — had been living after they’d fled certain death at the hands of the Dalshie.
The Dalshie could appear mortal, could assume the guise of humanity, but they weren’t. The immortal beings were evil, completely corrupted by dark magic that had erased all traces of compassion and morality.
They’d viciously hunted the Forgotten. Until now.
Because Dom’s people were safe.
Well, most of them.
There were a few stragglers; a few like Steph who’d left the Forgotten thinking it safer, or the opportunities better, outside of their numbers.
But now the Forgotten really were safe. They’d allied with the Rengalla, a group of immortal humans who possessed extended life and the ability to control elemental magic. The Rengalla also happened to be sworn enemies of the Dalshie and fought to protect humans and Forgotten alike.
Which meant he and his people were finally, finally safe.
Or Steph would be if he could just get her to come back to the Colony with him.
“I can’t just—“
“What are you doing in New Orleans, anyway?” he asked, interrupting what would no doubt be a long-winded reprimand of his high-handedness. Steph wasn’t what one would call easy or malleable.
She was hellfire. Spit and vinegar. Had been a nineteen-year-old hormonal girl on steroids the last time he’d seen her.
Of course, things were a little different now.
Namely, the fact that there was nothing girl-like remaining about Steph. She was — his gaze traveled down the half of her body he could see — curvy and beautiful and… going to be a giant pain in his ass.
Tearing his eyes from the peekaboo of cleavage only partially hidden by her plain white button-down shirt, Dom forced himself to focus. This wasn’t about his desires, his urges. This was about Steph and getting her safe.
It was important they move and quick. He needed to get Stephanie to pack up her life and get back to the Colony as fast as possible. There had been reports of Dalshie activity in the area.
“I’m in New Orleans because I want to be,” she snapped and seemed ready to tear into him when the phone rang.
“Front desk. How can I help you?” she said into the receiver. Her voice was liquid honey, way sweeter than Dom had ever heard.
He listened as she charmed the person on the other end of the line, her eyes fixing him in place, a hardness creeping into the indigo depths.
Witnessing that softness in her demeanor freeze, frost over like a person trapped under ice, was spectacular.
And also a little sad.
“Certainly. I’ll get those sent to your room right away,” she eventually said and hung up.
Had her years with the Forgotten really damaged her so badly?
Dom didn’t think so. Steph had been carefree, confident and tough, but also light. Like the rays of sunshine beating down on a hot, summer day. Intense. Sometimes blistering. But mostly just welcome.
So when had the innocence in her faded? Perhaps it was on that night when everything changed. Or perhaps — worse — it had happened to her after she’d gone.
The thought gave him pause, stalled his next words before they came. A tense silence descended, the rat-a-tat of the rain against the windows as the storm raged outside was the only noise in that quiet lobby.
Steph glanced away, those piercing blue eyes finally leaving his. “I’m not leaving my life here.” She paused. “I’m happy.”
“Is that why you were arguing with your boyfriend when I walked in?” Dom asked. “Because you’re so happy?”
He hadn’t posed the question to be mean. Not that he wouldn’t use whatever tools were at his disposal to get Steph home where she belonged. But he was genuinely curious.
His last memories of the girl she’d been were shaded by those horrible events of ten years ago. Death and kidnapping. Tainted magic and broken families. And Seth.
Seth blaming Stephanie for everything.
Twin spots tinged her cheeks red. “I’m a hell of a lot happier here than I ever was with the Forgotten.”
“No one believes that you were at fault for the events that night.”
She snorted. “The families do. Seth does.”
Dominic felt a thread of rage weave through him at her words. They were bitter, laced with the hint of a broken heart and disillusionment.
“Seth doesn’t,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Stephanie slammed her hands down onto the counter. “And how the hell do you know? Last I heard you were a telepath who couldn’t actually read minds.”
His lips twitched. He wasn’t a normal telepath — if such a thing were even possible to say — and could only hear thoughts that were projected. And since not many of the Forgotten could do that, it was a pretty useless ability.
Of course, it wasn’t like he’d ever honed the skill.
Not after he’d discovered firsthand that the downside of being telepathic meant you might hear things you really didn’t want to.
Learning his wife hadn’t been faithful, that the child she carried wasn’t actually his… yeah, that kind of ruined the fun for him. Especially when his ex-wife, also a telepath, had accidentally projected the thought while spending some quality time with the other man.
“I may be a telepath who can’t read minds,” he said, shaking off the past and taking a step toward her.
It had taken a damn long time to get over the betrayal. To trust again.
He wouldn’t go backward.
Dom leaned down so that the only thing separating them was the counter itself and watched Steph very carefully as he told her the rest of it. “But I do know when someone is dead. And Seth is very much so.”
The surprise was predictable, even the relief. But he hadn’t expected Steph’s eyes to fill with tears, for her legs to buckle, or for her to collapse to the floor.
He didn’t bother finding the door to the counter. Instead, he vaulted the smooth granite and crouched next to her.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “He didn’t suffer.”
Much anyway. His death at the hands
of the Dalshie had been brutal but quick.
At his words, Steph looked up, those blue eyes swollen and red… and filled with fire.
“I wish he had.”
CHAPTER THREE
Steph shook off Dominic’s arm and shoved herself to her feet. She was crying, actually crying over Seth.
What the hell was wrong with her?
There was no reason that she should be showing any emotion about him. Seth was — had been — a jerk, plain and simple. She had just felt that wrath a little more firsthand than most people.
And to think she’d actually felt guilty for the one harmless kiss she and Dom had shared. Thought it a violation of her relationship with Seth.
What a joke.
Hell, what a joke to think it had meant anything to Dom, that it had meant as much to him as it had to her.
“Why are you here?” she asked, weariness soaking into her bones, weighing her down.
She remembered that night vividly.
Dom’s odd black eyes, which had usually stared at her with warmth, turned cold, like flints of black granite. Hard and unfeeling.
She remembered his words. “It’s better for everyone if you go.”
So she’d gone. Had left her home, her entire life, and made her own way.
The Dalshie were those most at fault for her exodus — if one could blame soulless murderers for acting within their nature. But her own people — her own family — had also been at fault. Seth. Her parents. And Dominic.
He was the leader of the Forgotten. But he’d once been her friend.
Or so she’d thought.
“We can talk about that later,” he said, stepping close and brushing a hand across her cheek, smoothing back a lock of her brown hair. He touched her as if he had the right to do so, and it infuriated her.