Turning around, Elle found a man sculpted from pure ice not far behind her. He was dressed in deep blue clothing, rich with hues of different shades of navy. His long jacket covered the back of his neck, but it was the man’s face Elle stared at with petrified fear. The man didn’t have a face. He literally looked to be made of ice. Elle saw what appeared to be eyes, ears, a mouth, and a nose, but they were all made of ice alone.
The man’s face, neck, and hands were the only body parts that were visible, and yet they too were all made of ice. He was intimidating for Elle, not only because he got through a locked door, but he was also a good six inches taller than her as well as being broad chested over her slender figure.
Elle looked between the man and the door, not understanding how the monster got through the still-locked wooden door. He surely didn’t climb up through the two-story window. Elle released a terrified scream before taking the frying pan in her hand to whack the stranger roughly across the face. Elle was good with her hit. She was spot on with accuracy, and she hit him very hard. Tragically, it seemed Elle’s move was rather pointless. Holding the pan, she found it developed a large dent in it from where it made contact with the strange ice man’s head. Sadly, it didn’t seem to affect him. The monster didn’t budge, let alone chip any ice from his head.
“Ow,” said the creature, his ice lips pressing together in a tight line.
It didn’t seem to Elle as though he truly meant that remark. She watched him in silence, her eyes darting back and forth between the man and her weapon. Elle had never hit someone to the face with a frying pan before, but she had expected a bit more too happen than absolutely nothing. Any chance of screaming locked her throat. She couldn’t work out even a gurgled sound. The ice man/creature seemed to be watching her as if he were studying her. It was almost as though he was watching her as if she were the strange one in this scenario.
Elle raised her hand holding the pan. She swung it in a bid to strike the monster again, only the man caught the pan with ease this time.
“Really?” the man jeered as he threw it to the side. “Did it work for you the first time you tried that?” He sounded both amused and disgusted.
This time Elle screamed. She bolted for her bedroom door. Elle undid the lock and practically flew down the hallway. She had no idea whether she was going insane or whether an ice sculpture had come to life. Either way, this was taking the Frosty the Snowman song to a whole new level. Panicking, Elle raced down the stairs to the closed front door. Whipping it open, she immediately found a young man who looked to be hovering between twenty-four and twenty-five. Strong cheekbones and a well-defined jaw complemented an already handsome face. His eyes were a haunting grey. The young man’s hair was the most brilliant shade of frosted white that Elle had ever seen. The hair had an almost silver look to it. The man’s too pale complexion was nowhere near as white as his hair, but it made the frosted look a bit more profound. What made his look even more interesting was that there were no roots to his hair showing; it was as if this was his natural hair color.
Either way, it was a very attractive look. One that Elle would’ve thought more about if not for the life or death situation she was currently in.
Elle couldn’t worry about Shadow right now; she had to worry about escaping as well as helping this stranger get away from the monster upstairs. Grasping the young man’s arm, Elle started running off the porch and into the snow, not even caring that she was barefoot. She couldn’t let an innocent person get hurt.
“Run! There’s something that broke into my house and it’s going to kill me!” Elle cried, not bothering to wonder or care why this stranger was at her doorstep at nearly eleven o’clock on a weeknight.
That creature had to be close behind them in pursuit. “RUN!” she hissed in a whisper.
The young man said nothing. He quickly followed behind Elle as she hurriedly tried to think of a place to hide. The creature could just follow her footsteps in the freshly fallen snow. Elle ran to the end of the driveway while releasing the man’s arm, silently cursing her fortune that she had gotten a flat tire last week. Her grandfather had been planning to fix it before he became distracted with his random idea to make an old rotary phone work.
Elle tried not to panic as she attempted to quickly think of an escape plan. She usually worked well under pressure. When her grandfather had sliced his finger open while fiddling with one of his projects, Elle had been calmer than both her grandmother and Lucy, who had been over for dinner. She didn’t panic, and she drove to the hospital for her grandpa to get stitches. This situation was different; there was a monster in her house. There was no way that was a decent makeup job. Elle could feel the coolness radiating from the ice man. He was real. There was no doubt about that. Elle slapped her head, developing a brilliant plan. “Where’s your car?” she hissed at the stranger, hopping from foot to foot. She was not cold even though she was in the snow barefoot. She was eager to get far away from the monster lurking inside her house.
The man watched her with a blank expression as he cocked an eyebrow. He looked amused at her very question.
“I don’t have one,” he said, a smile on his lips. It wasn’t a genuine smile. Elle mentally took note that this was more of an I-know-something-you-don’t smirk.
Elle’s mouth fell open in surprise, suddenly noting something familiar. The young man had the exact same voice as the icy creature that was currently lurking inside her house. There was no mistaking it; he had a strange, velvety voice that could resemble the vocal version of silk, just like the ice man. Shaking her head, Elle slowly back stepped while keeping her eyes locked on the young man before her. He was dressed in the exact same blue outfit as the ice man. Same pants, same jacket, same plain blue shirt underneath it. Now he looked completely human, his bright grey eyes holding a mischievous glint to them as he watched Elle.
The only thing that could be considered strange about the young man was his abnormally pale skin and frosted white hair.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” The man laughed. “Surely you remember me, Evangeline Darrow.”
Elle stared at the young man before her, not being able to comprehend what was in front of her. None of this was making sense. Her eyes grew wide before her dark brows furrowed. “How do you know—?”
“We met once,” the young man interrupted, the same sick smirk across his features. “You were just a little thing back then, only four years young,” he said, a coy smirk across his pale pink lips. “In all fairness, I did warn you that when you turned on the globe, I would arrive.”
His slow advancement had Elle back stepping, slightly shocked that just two minutes earlier she was concerned with getting this guy out of the warpath of the ice man. Now, she really couldn’t be sure this strange guy and the icy man weren’t one and the same.
It all went back to the damned snow globe. First the boy named Eros, and now this guy. Elle couldn’t explain what was happening, but one thing was certain: her bad luck revolved exclusively around that beautiful globe she was given earlier in the day.
Elle blinked a few times, trying to think of words to speak. “I…uh…Eros…”
The young man rolled his eyes in annoyance, seemingly agitated by that name alone. “Do not bring that fool into this. He really is love-drunk if he feels that after seventeen years I’d no longer want to kill you.”
Elle stared at the man, a shiver fluttering up her spine. She wasn’t sure if her sudden coldness was due to standing barefooted in the snow or that casual reference to using the word kill. The man smirked at Elle’s terrified expression, advancing slowly. “You shouldn’t look so surprised,” the man continued coolly. “I told you the night you received the globe how much time I would give you.”
The wheels in Elle’s mind worked to think of the first time she remembered seeing the beautiful snow globe. It was such a long time ago, it nearly felt as though it was just another life in general. Maybe she was four? Elle tried to concentrate, but the
best she could remember is a man had given it to her one night, and she remembered it had something to do with her dad. A friend of his? Shaking her head, Elle slowly back stepped, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening out here. She couldn’t explain it.
“Come now, you really don’t remember me?” the man asked coyly. “You had a brain the size of an acorn back then, but still…” He smiled, brandishing a silver dagger from his pocket. It was long and jagged sharp with a bright ruby on the handle.
Elle had a very bad feeling about what he planned to do with that dagger. She didn’t need to know this guy long to know there was something not quite right about him. “Who are you?” Elle questioned, pleased with how much venom was in her tone given her terrified state.
The man rolled his eyes as if annoyed. He rolled the dagger between his long, pale fingers. “You know, I’m usually not one to monologue. How many times do people talk their head off before a kill?”
Elle released a startled yelp, for the man had suddenly appeared less than two feet away from her. It was as though he teleported within the blink of an eye. Perhaps she did not ask the right question. Maybe it didn’t actually matter who he was at all. Elle’s eyes were wide as she whispered, “What are you?”
The man developed a slick smirk that looked as cold as ice. “Take a guess. Who is the personification of ice, snow, sleet, and freezing cold?” he asked airily, twirling the dagger between his fingers. His piercing eyes seemed to flash a shade darker as he watched Elle with a cat-like grin. Matthew had loved to share stories based on Greek, Egyptian, and Norse mythology. He would also share with Elle where certain fairy tales stemmed from. Matthew had read her stories from the Brothers Grimm books and other very old books he would come across. A very long time ago, Elle remembered hearing her father tell her a few stories about someone who could control all things frost. He could make snow and ice appear, along with bringing in the cold weather that could freeze everything over. It was such a long time ago, but Elle could remember it clearly because her father had made a joke about why he and Elle mostly moved around warmer states. Texas, Florida, Arizona, and California. It was all so Jack Frost couldn’t find them.
Elle had always related this statement to cold weather; never did she believe her father was referring to a real-life person.
The man slowly dissolved from his current human appearance to morph into the creature sculpted from pure ice. His whole body transformed into it, but Elle could still make out the man’s smirk.
Slowly shaking her head in disbelief, Elle back stepped, not being able to process what was happening. He just transformed into a walking, talking ice sculpture. As quickly as the man changed, he turned himself back to the handsome young man with the brilliant white hair.
Elle didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to react. This wasn’t pretend; it was truly happening before her very eyes. He was the real deal; this wasn’t pretend or an idea of a joke. Even though this seemed unreal, it was as though Elle felt she knew who this man was while simultaneously not knowing how she knew this.
“Y-you’re…” she stuttered, her eyes widening in disbelief. Elle couldn’t find any words to say. Finally, the strange name bubbled in her mouth and spilled past her lips. “Jack Frost.”
A coy smirk crossed the young man’s features. The fairy tales Elle had heard of Jack Frost weren’t at all accurate. He was no mischievous young boy, and he was no crusty old man with pointed ears. The young man before her was beautiful. From his pale skin to his snow white hair, he was the reflection of pure beauty in itself. With a pale finger, the man created a sculpture of ice to erupt from the palm of his other hand. It sparkled and gleamed in the light of the night sky.
“What gave it away?” the man asked, his voice holding a strong touch of arrogance.
Chapter 6
Jack Frost.
Elle stared at the man, petrified, her knees feeling as though they could buckle right then and there. Wasn’t Jack Frost a small, benevolent elfish creature who liked snow? More than that, wasn’t he only among the realm of myth and make believe…?
She shook her head, desperately hoping to make sense of this madness. “Why are you d-doing this? Why are you here?” Elle whispered, not daring to blink.
“Is it not obvious?” The man smiled wickedly. “You are my betrothed.” Elle had no reaction to his words. Stepping forward with the dagger, the man twirled it once more. It was her complete silence that had the man lifting a skeptical eyebrow. “It seems you still have trouble comprehending large words. You did not understand when you were four, either,” the man said sardonically. “I thought for sure seventeen years would have given you a stronger vocabulary. At least you’re not hideous.”
Elle’s expression remained the same; her brows were furrowed as she stared at the strange man in silent shock. She had to work to keep her mouth closed in order not to gape.
“W-what do y-you w-want?” she stammered, not really feeling too confident. What exactly did you say when a supposed fairy tale character was right in front of you with a very sharp-looking knife? Jack Frost most definitely was not coming across as friendly.
The man grinned, once again toying with the knife. He carefully moved it between his fingers in a near-casual move. “Oh gods, there is so much…freedom, a kingdom where I do not have to worry about monarchy laws…but there is something I want much, much more than that.” He nodded seriously. “Your blood to spill out onto the ground as I kill you.” The man grinned, stepping forward in a bid to plunge the knife into Elle.
Luckily for her, she was too quick. She lunged out of the way, the dagger only stabbing into her right arm. Elle hissed a shocked gasp. It was ripped out quickly. She suddenly made a mad sprint for her house, ignoring the bleeding wound that shot a huge amount of pain up throughout her body. Elle was lucky. If she hadn’t made a quick movement, that dagger was going straight for her heart.
Elle knew she couldn’t do the one thing she felt like doing—bawling as if she were a little kid again. She knew she couldn’t, though. If she didn’t fight, this stranger known as Jack Frost was going to kill her. Locking the door, Elle shoved a small table in front of it as she thought about her next action. She needed the police! But before she could react, fingers knotted in the back of her hair from behind and caused Elle to cry out in pain. She kept forgetting this stranger had the magic ability to appear behind locked doors in the blink of an eye.
“You are a quick little thing, I’ll give you that.” The man laughed lightly with amusement. “Now hold still. I need to kill you.”
“Screw you!” Elle seethed, roughly back-kicking the man’s shin with her heel before jerking her head up to hit him in the jaw by using the top of her head. She remembered this much from a self-defense class she and Lucy had taken their junior year of high school. The pain in her arm was enough to cause Elle to realize she would have to give it her all. She was literally in a fight for her life. The bloody knife wound that tore a huge grisly gap in her arm was enough to make Elle realize this stranger had full intent on killing her.
The man released Elle upon her head hitting him, anger now dancing behind his grey eyes as he rubbed his jaw. Even though her hits didn’t seem to affect him, the man was definitely surprised. Elle made a mad dash for a vase on a small nearby shelf and launched it at the man. It hit his face but barely affected him as it smashed to pieces. Elle didn’t stop throwing items. She next threw candlesticks and picture frames in a bid to hurt him. Elle started to race up the stairs two at a time to get to the cell phone in her bedroom. She was nearly at the top of the stairs before the white-haired young man was suddenly there, blocking her path. “Going somewhere?” He smirked, causing Elle to gasp before stumbling down the stairs. She was so startled she tripped all the way down, landing on her ankle in a very bad way. It hurt to put pressure on her left foot. She screamed out in pain. Limping, Elle quickly hopped down the rest of the stairs and nearly ran into a new person who had just arrived.
It took her half a second to recognize the new arrival.
“Aiden!” Elle shrieked. “Run…run!” She had no idea when her best friend suddenly arrived, but Elle knew they were both in very grave danger. “RUN!”
But Aiden did no such thing. There was a cruel glare on his face as he looked up the stairs at the man known as Jack Frost. Elle had never seen Aiden so angry before. Not in all the years she had known him had he ever looked as furious as he did in that very moment. With a large hand, Aiden pushed Elle behind him, instantly concealing her from view. She didn’t realize how very badly she was shaking until Aiden turned around and gently grabbed her bleeding arm.
“I should have realized her godly guardian angel would make an appearance,” Jack Frost sighed. “I was not anticipating what a fighter this little wildcat was going to be.”
Elle poked her head around Aiden and stared at the man in confusion before clenching onto Aiden for fear of his life. Meanwhile, Aiden examined her arm before turning his glare back toward the man lightly descending the stairs.
Aiden scowled. “I should have realized Eros asking me for a favor meant he was trying to distance me from her,” he sneered vehemently.
Elle blinked a few times, trying to process his words. Aiden suddenly had a strange accent, almost English. Besides that, he had never spoke this coldly to anyone in the many years she had known him. How did he know the guy named Eros along with this monster?
Elle hadn’t realized she’d grabbed onto Aiden’s torso until he gently ran a hand through her hair to pat her head in a coaxing matter. The white-haired man laughed lightly, as if he found what Aiden said humorous.
“Phoebus Apollo…I would say nice to see you again, but I would be lying.” Jack Frost shrugged, directing a cold glance toward where Elle was cowering. “How about you let me have my betrothed and we can call it a night?” he asked, a small smirk to him. “This matter does not concern you.”
Betrothed to Jack Frost Page 5