Dead of Winter

by Kresley Cole

  Always will?

  "In my Arcana primer, there was a lot of speculation about the Lovers."

  She'd gotten a primer? I wanted a primer.

  Instead I had my grandmother, a Tarasova, a wisewoman of the Tarot. She'd be a wealth of knowledge--if I could find her, reach her.

  But so might Selena be--if I could trust her.

  "Some say that if they whisper in your ears at the same time, they can mesmerize you to confuse pain for pleasure. If they clasp hands and swing their arms, they can tempt you to love bad things, like murder and suicide. Is any of this jibing with what you've heard?"

  "Ditto on the mesmerizing. But I can't remember much more."

  "Other chroniclers were totally vague about them. The Emperor? Everyone can tell you he moves mountains, creates earthquakes, and uses lava to kill. The High Priestess manipulates water, drowning her enemies. Straightforward stuff. But the Lovers are surrounded by mystery. Could be because they always die early in the game. Could be they're good at hiding power secrets. Like most of us."

  "I've told you everything I can do. What are you hiding?"

  She waved that away. "I didn't know Lark has bulletproof animals or that Ogen could supersize himself that much. Speaking of which, you talked about what the Devil did to you, but not Death."

  Death? He nearly seduced me into falling for him, then broke my heart. "Let's focus on the twins, okay? I'll try to get more details from Matthew."

  "Good luck with that. If possible, he's making less sense than before, and he's having fits. Only J.D. can calm him down."

  I felt a pang that Jack had been looking out for him. "Joules and his crew don't have any info?"

  "Gabe's line was the only one that chronicled, and his books got destroyed centuries ago."

  I'd bet Aric knew all about the Lovers. As the three-time, reigning Arcana champion, he'd lived for millennia, gathering knowledge the way he gathered priceless relics. . . .

  Two armed sentries passed us. Each wore a hooded camo poncho and carried a rifle. They nodded politely.

  Under my breath, I said, "Arcana don't freak them out? Gabriel's wings alone should throw them."

  "At first, yeah. But they look to J.D. to see how to act. They hero-worship 'the hunter.' "

  Charismatic Jack could be so compelling when he wanted to.

  "He uses our help to maintain order," Selena said. "The Azey might have the twins, but J.D.'s got three Arcana himself--a psychic, an exquisite bow-goddess, and an illusionist."

  "How did this place come to be?"

  "He built a lot of the wall with his own hands, worked himself to exhaustion. It'd stand up against a tank." She couldn't sound prouder. "He's been recruiting skilled Azey dissenters, leaving messages for scouts. With his leadership and Finn's illusions, we've been stealing tons from the army: food, fuel, even the mines J.D. planted in the moat."

  "It sounds like you guys are gaining momentum."

  Selena nodded. "That's why the Azey sent half their force to set up shop across the river. Their guns are out of range--for now--but we think they're hauling heavier artillery from Azey North. If it reaches here . . ."

  Another worry to put on my list. "How did Jack get captured?"

  "We were going to blow the bridge I was talking about--while Vincent was on it. We'd taken up position on a cliff overlooking the strike zone, waiting for his convoy to cross. J.D. had his finger hovering over the detonator."

  "Matthew told me Vincent surprised him."

  "The bastard parked just before the bridge. While we were coming up with a new plan, one of the convoy trucks that had already crossed fired a fifty-cal at us."

  I nodded like I knew what that was. It sounded bad. "Go on."

  "Bullets chewed the mountain apart. Finn fell, but J.D. and I held on somehow. He climbed up to get a shot at Vincent, so I headed to another rise, drawing fire. Next thing I knew I was falling too."

  "How did they know where you'd be?"

  She peered around. "I think we've got traitors here, men planted by the Milovnicis."

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  "If we can free J.D., we'll smoke them out." She pointed behind me. "Gabe's tent is over there, just past the courtyard. How do we do this with him?"

  "You're going to flirt with him."

  "Are you mental?"

  "He's head over heels for you."

  Selena huffed with impatience. "Understandably. But how does this help us? You want me to act like I like him? He's completely bizarre."

  Yes, he wore an old-timey suit everywhere with a strange tie (a cravat or whatever). And yes, his speech was outdated. But . . . "I was going to say eccentric."

  She snorted, then lowered her voice. "Tess told me he was raised on a secluded mountaintop, in some kind of Arcana monastery. His chroniclers were cultish wing-worshippers. They separated themselves from society for generations, waiting for him to be born."

  No wonder he was so outdated. "You said his books got destroyed?"

  "Villagers tried to burn the cult, a la Frankenstein; the chronicles went up in smoke."

  Villagers had tried to burn me in a past life as well. They burn what they fear.

  "Selena, I'm not asking you to nest with Gabriel. All you have to do is ask him really nice to fly us over." I reached up to brush her silvery-blond hair back, tucking a silken lock behind her ear. "I miss lip gloss, and clearly you do too."

  "Shut it. I can't believe I'm going along with this. I hate it when girls use their wiles. Normally, I'd just strangle him until he agreed."

  I sighed. "That's plan B. Sometimes climbing ivy does that too."

  5

  "Yo, Gabe!" Outside their tent, Selena cast me a glare for good measure. "I need to talk to you."

  He rushed out, flattening his black wings to duck under the tent flap. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. Like Lark, he had claws and a set of fangs. His eyes were leaf green.

  He was a striking, if unusual-looking, guy.

  "Selena," he breathed, cheeks flushed. "Uh, and the Empress too."

  Why was I even here? As Matthew would say, "Nature and course. Love and bloom."

  "Greetings to you both." He adjusted his suit coat. Must be a bitch to line up the slits in the back with the bases of his wings. "What is the issue at hand, ladies?"

  Selena rolled her eyes. "You mean: what's up?"

  Wow, way to flirt. She was a regular coquette.

  He nodded. "For me, I believe all things are best when pointed up."

  She and I blinked at him. Gentlemanly Gabriel probably had no idea his words sounded kind of dirty.

  "Whatever." Wasting no time, Selena said, "We're going in to rescue J.D., and you're going to help."

  He glanced over his shoulder and back. "Joules has already spoken on the subject. Our alliance will not--"

  "I'm not asking your alliance," she interrupted. "I'm asking you. All we need is transpo. You don't have to do anything but fly us across the river."

  I recalled another of his talents--animal-like senses. "And to track Jack's scent. It'd mean a lot to me, and so much to Selena." I cast her a look.

  "Yeah. It'd really mean a lot, Gabe," she added, laying a hand on his muscular arm.

  His lips parted, and his wings seemed to flutter uncontrollably. Wait, had he grimaced from the movement? Was something wrong with our transpo?

  "Everything all right?" I asked.

  He didn't answer, just stared at the hand on his arm.

  To her credit, Selena gave it a squeeze. "So we can count on you?"

  When he remained undecided--or mind-boggled by her touch--I said, "Help us end the Lovers tonight." Well, at least one of them.

  Collecting himself, he said, "I thought you didn't want to play the game, Empress."

  "I don't. But I need time to figure out a way to stop it." I pictured the game as a machine with cogs and wheels--that I longed to blow up. "The twins are going to keep coming after all of us."

  "Wh
at is your plan?"

  "Finn disguises us. You fly us over. We march right into the Lovers' camp. I fumigate their tent. Selena and I extract Jack."

  Gabriel was quiet for long moments.

  With a glare, Selena removed her hand; at once, he said, "I shall assist you with more than transportation, as a full-fledged member of the team. But I have a condition."

  Full-fledged said the boy with wings. "Let's hear it."

  "We go there to assassinate any Milovnici. Not to ask them to be in an alliance. Not to spare them."

  I totally agreed, but hadn't thought he'd be this hard-core.

  "We've talked to soldiers here about the general and his spawn. They must be stopped."

  "We'll take them out," I assured him.

  He offered his claw-tipped hand, and we shook. "Joules will be displeased. I sense an AC/DC moment in my future."

  Huh? "Like the band?"

  "No, like the currents. But I'll handle him."

  "You do that," Selena said. "Bring a bandanna for a spore mask and meet us at the watchtower. Midnight sharp."

  I frowned. "That's hours away."

  "Their soldiers maintain a regular schedule," she explained. "Like they do here. Reveille in the morning, even though there's no daybreak. At midnight, most of the camp will be asleep." To Gabriel, she said, "Don't let any humans know what we're planning."

  "Understood."

  I furtively kicked Selena's boot; she straightened and said, "Oh. Thanks, Gabe. I won't forget this."

  "It will be my pleasure, Selena. I look forward to it." His eyes widened. "I mean, not that I am pleased about the occasion."

  Selena let him off the hook. "I look forward to kicking serial killer ass."

  He grinned. "Precisely."

  We started back toward Selena and Finn's tent. Halfway there, she murmured, "I can't believe he's going against Joules! I would've bet my bow he'd refuse. My God, we might free J.D. tonight. Evie, if this works . . ." Though Selena was 100 percent, grade-A badass, her eyes glinted, a hairline fracture in her prickly facade. "If we get him back, you and I'll be solid again."

  "Were we ever solid?" I was so different from her, and we'd hated each other at first. But we'd muddled along until we'd begun to rely on one another. And now she was lowering her guard a degree.

  As soon as the thought occurred to me, her expression hardened. "In every game, the Archer has an arrow for the Empress."

  I exhaled. "Yeah, yeah, I remember."

  "In this game, I might have misplaced it." Shoulders squared, she turned from me.

  As she strode away, I realized two things:

  That's the closest she'll ever come to telling me we're friends.

  I'll take it.

  6

  "Battle comes for the Empress."

  Near midnight, Matthew and I had holed up in the top floor of the watchtower. We sat facing each other, the toes of our boots touching. We spoke with hushed voices, as we had in the back of that van with Jack and Selena.

  A gas lantern flickered light. Outside, a storm raged. Cyclops stood watch below.

  "I'm ready." To take on psychotic mass murderers. To head into the skies with a winged boy. A gust rocked the watchtower, making it shudder. Not exactly the greatest conditions to fly in. . . .

  After Selena and I had secured Gabriel's help, I'd checked on the mare (doing much better; still pissed at me), then headed to the tent Jack shared with Matthew.

  I'd tried to rest, but as soon as I lay down on Jack's cot, his familiar, pulse-quickening scent had surrounded me. I'd alternated between bouts of missing him and jolts of panic about his imprisonment.

  There'd been little sleep.

  "Do you want to go tonight?" I asked Matthew.

  He shrugged, like I'd asked him to go grab a slice. "Got stuff to do."

  "Like what?"

  "Stuff," he answered, sounding like such a teenage boy.

  "Will you tell me about the Lovers? Anything at all?"

  "Duke and Duchess Most Perverse." He lowered his voice even more. "Their card's upside down. Reverse. Perverse."

  "But what does that mean?"

  He rocked forward and back. "Animus, animal passions, disharmony, conflict, jealousy. When they say love, they mean destroy. They want retribution because they chronicle and remember."

  "What are their powers?"

  His rocking slowed. "They don't use them as they have."

  "What did you mean about smite, fall, mad, and struck?"

  He nodded. "Sometimes the world spins in reverse. Sometimes battles do too. The word carousel means little battle."

  I nodded back as if that made sense. "Matthew, what will they do to Jack if I fail? Will they mesmerize him? Control his mind?"

  "They are vain. They practice their craft. With sharp tools, they remove things, discard them, transform people. You begin as one thing and die as another." A gust punctuated his low words.

  Chills skittered over me. Here we sat in a tree-house type structure, telling scary stories by lantern light. As kids used to.

  Post-apocalypse, all the stories were real.

  "You don't want to know more about their craft." Matthew shivered. "I didn't. Power is your burden; knowledge is mine."

  "What power?"

  "You have more abilities now."

  Though I grew weaker overall from lack of sunlight, I had learned a new skill.

  When I'd been in the gardens beneath Death's home, preparing for the Devil's attack, I'd unwittingly taken the knowledge of those plants into me--along with all their relatives.

  Before, I'd revived and controlled plants and trees, but I'd never known them. Now I could recreate them without seed; I could generate differing spores to make one sleep for a time--or forever. The same with the toxin on my lips.

  "Phytogenesis," I said.

  "Phytogenesis," he echoed solemnly.

  "Did you plan for me to fight Ogen? So I'd be among all that green as blood was spilling?" Trusting him is a free fall.

  "Claimed your crown yet?"

  My hundredth frown of the night. "Like on my card?" The Empress tableau and Tarot card depicted her/me with a crown of twelve brilliant stars. "Is that what you meant?"

  He stared at his hand. Subject closed.

  Okay . . . "Even when I fought Ogen, I spared Death and Lark. I controlled the red witch." Matthew should give me props.

  "You can muzzle her, but can you invoke?" Or none at all.

  Invoke the witch? "She comes out when I'm under attack." Pain drew her in a hurry. Fury as well. "It's kind of automatic. Why would I invoke her?"

  "Jack is missing."

  I sighed, resigned to letting him steer our conversation. "Yes, he is."

  "Your heart aches again. His does too. Hopes. High. Dashed. Love. He reflects over his life."

  "Like what?"

  "Crossroads and missed opportunities. He has more regrets than the very old. Wishes he'd never lied to you."

  "So do I." He'd lied with as much skill as he read people. I rose and walked over to the lookout slot, scanning as if I could see him.

  Even though I feared I could never trust him again, I still loved him.

  "He wishes he could have seen you just one last time." Matthew's tone turned sly. "I could show you his reflections."

  Trespass in Jack's mind? But then, he had listened to the tape of my life story--without permission. "What he's thinking about right now? Show me."

  "From his eyes," Matthew whispered.

  A vision began to play, so immersive that the world around me faded away. As Jack's memory became my own, I was transported into the ramshackle cabin he'd shared with his mother. Through an open doorway, I could smell the bayou, could hear frogs and cicadas.

  His mother was smiling down at him. She'd had stunning good looks, with her tanned skin, high cheekbones, and long raven hair. Jack had gotten his coloring from her.

  But shadows laced her gray eyes as she introduced him to two visitors.


  Maman calls me over to meet them: a middle-aged woman and a girl around my age, maybe eight or so. Everyone says Maman and I are dirt poor, but this pair doan look like they're doing much better.

  "Jack, this is Eula and her daughter, Clotile. Clotile's your half sister."

  She'd been tiny, all skinny legs and big soulful eyes. Sadness filled me because I knew Clotile's ultimate fate.

  Less than nine years from that day, she would survive an apocalypse--only to be captured by Vincent and Violet.

  Clotile had escaped them, just long enough to shoot herself. Jack still didn't know why. Had she committed suicide to give him a chance to get free? Or because she couldn't live with what the Lovers had done to her?

  I tell Maman, "I doan have a sister." I got a younger half brother though. Earlier this summer, Maman had driven us all the way to Sterling to show me my father's mansion. She said it should've been ours. We'd watched Radcliffe and his other son, Brandon, tossing a football in the front yard.

  My half brother kind of looked like me. But this girl's scrawny with light brown hair and pale skin.

  "You two got the same father. Radcliffe." Maman can barely say his name.

  "Maybe, Helene." Eula snorts. "I'm giving it one in three."

  Clotile gazes at the ceiling. I get the sense she's embarrassed that she can't pin down who her pere is--but kind of used to it too.

  Eula strides toward me and grasps my face in a way I hate. "Oh, ouais, you got his blood, for sure. Not that it matters anyway. You'll never get a dime out of him." She drops her hand. "You and Clotile go play. Your mere and me are goan to have a couple of drinks."

  When Maman drinks she turns into a different person. I give her a look that says, Doan do this. But she gazes away. What'd I expect, me?

  Clotile takes my hand with a wide smile, and we head outside. She's sweet enough, I suppose. And she can't help being my sister.

  I take her out onto the floating pier I've pieced together, showing her how to check traps. She watches in amazement, like I'm turning water into wine or something.

  Out of the blue, she says, "I think you are my big brother."

  I doan know how I feel about that. She's not bad company, doan talk a lot. Her stomach's been grumbling, but she woan admit she's hungry. At least I've learned to feed myself, can hunt and fish and cook my take. I could help her out now and again.

  "Maybe I am." Then I scowl, kicking a trap back in the water. Just what I need--another mouth to feed!

  A loud truck rumbles down our muddy track of a driveway, parking in front of the cabin. Two men stomp inside, hailing greetings, making our mothers laugh.