Blackbirds & Bourbon (9 page)

“Jack is Jack.” Rochie shrugs, a sly look in her eyes.

“Does he have to use the murals, too?”

She sighs. “No, Seph.”

“But… my mother had the house warded against him—him
specifically
.” I stop at my door, feeling stupid this never occurred to me the first time he was here. Of course, I’d been rather distracted by Jack in my bed, offering certain sexual favors.

I can be excused if warding spells slipped my mind.

Rochie smiles thinly. “Ahh, but her warding was done before his spell on you, now wasn’t it?”

That bond again.
Shit
. “You’re telling me he’s been able to get in this house for the last nine years?”

She shrugs, wings tinkling softly.

I sigh. “Why are you here, Rochie?”

“Things are coming to a head faster than I expected, Persephone. I’m…scared. You and Jack need to get a move on. I thought for sure he’d have you in bed by now.” She folds her arms, eyeing me from head to toe. “What is wrong with you?”

My jaw drops and I lean against my bedroom door, unable to speak for several moments. “Wait…
what
? First you bet me I’m gonna kiss the bastard—”

“A bet you lost,” she points out somewhat gleefully.

“—and now you’re expecting me to full-on bang him?” Never mind I did almost exactly that in the bar last night.

“Trust me. You want to do this. I mean, I know you already
want
to do it, but if you knew what was at stake, the trailer would already be rocking.”

“I don’t have a trailer and you are a dirty little shit, aren’t you? First you’re posting full-frontal of the bears online and now you’re trying to pimp Jack out?”

“I’m trying to save a friend.” She folds her arms and gives me a stern look. “You should try it sometime.”

“Jack is not my friend and I don’t see how sleeping together is gonna save anyone.”

“Not your friend?” Her cheeks flush, her eyes snapping. I take a step backward. A pissed-off fairy is nothing to trifle with. “You have no idea the things that man has done for you.”

My head starts to pound. “Enlighten me, then.”

“I can’t.” Rochie stomps the air with a teeny foot. “Trust me on this, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” I roll my eyes, my fingers curling around the doorknob and yanking it open. “Whatever.”

“If you want to save him
and
save yourself, you’ll nail him good and hard before Yule, Persephone. Listen to—”

I shut my bedroom door in her face, the blast of air tumbling her back on her ass and out of sight before the door slams shut. I can hear the sounds of her wings tinkling down the hall as I ward my room with a tired whisper.

When I turn around, my nose flares at the faintest hint of pine and spice and smoke.
Jack.
My eyes flick to the dresser where I keep my spare glasses. Closing my eyes, I rub my temples, his face flashing behind my aching lids. Kind and cruel by turns. I don’t get that man, I don’t get him one little bit, and every bit of me hurts from trying. And as for what Rochie said…nope, not going there. Not tonight.

With a sigh, I strip down and head to the shower. All of us have an en suite, except Carly, who took the only third-floor bedroom for the light for her painting.

I linger in the blessed heat of the shower for at least a half hour, my mind blank, listening to the soothing hiss and fall of the water, unwilling or unable to think about anything that happened today. When I finally slide between the sheets of my bed, Jack’s scent still lingers, even over the vanilla-almond scent of my body wash. Maybe that’s why I dream of him.

Maybe.

“You’re back.”

“It appears so.” That rough voice tickles something inside me, making my toes curl inside my boots. I’m at the skating rink at Bayfront, where I spend damn near every afternoon after school.

Damn, he’s even more gorgeous than I remember. The guy blocking my path to the rink has these awesome misty-green eyes, thick dark lashes, and just a touch of sexy shadow on that lean jaw. A jaw that is clenched tightly at the moment. His Adam’s apple moves as I continue to stare, drawing my eyes to his throat. Jack Frost should be pale, pasty even, but his skin is deeply tanned, a smooth and utterly delicious-looking light golden brown. I press the tip of my tongue to my lips before looking away, knowing damn well I’m blushing.

He has me on the verge of drooling and I barely know the guy. Though I’ve kissed him. Once.

It was a few weeks ago, right here at the rink. Syana is still pissed she lost that bet. My lips curve, remembering, but my smile fades almost as quickly as it came. He vanished after that. And why not?

Because come on, this guy is light years out of my league, not to mention about half a millennium too old for me. Dangerous. My mother said so. Jack Frost is very bad news. Steer clear.

I love my mom, but hey, teenage girl here. You can’t say stuff like that and not expect me to be intrigued. Especially when bad comes wrapped in such a sizzling package. Speaking of packages, my gaze drops lower.

He coughs, bringing my wide eyes back to his face. There’s a hint of a smirk on those full lips even as he shakes his head sternly.

“What?”

“I think you might be trouble, Persephone Gosse.”

Mmm, that voice
. “Funny, that’s what I’ve heard about you.”

“I thought you said you liked trouble,” he counters.

I did say that before, didn’t I? How lame. My cheeks heat. I was trying to be cool and suave. I should know better. “Wow, was I really that cheesy?”

“Cheesy?” He frowns as if puzzled by the word, then his face clears. “Yeah, you were a bit. But cheese is good.” That smirk again.

I have to laugh. Cocking his head, he watches me. I have the strangest feeling he’s learning from me, assimilating. Before I can dwell on that odd thought, he changes the subject.

“So what are you doing here?”

I raise my eyebrows, pointing to the rink, then the skates I’m dangling from my fingers. “I’m going to skate. Why, you want to join me?”

He frowns, those sexy-ass lips thinning slightly as he considers the rink full of people. “I really have no idea how to do this, you know.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me Jack fucking Frost doesn’t know how to skate?”

“Not that.
That.
” He waves a hand at the crowd. “Blend with humans. It’s been too long.” He does look tense, strained even, as he looks out over the crowded rink. I’m so surprised, I let out a giggle.

He turns back to me, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” I can feel my cheeks heating up.
Dammit
. “It’s just, c’mon. Normal people are everywhere, how do you avoid them all?”

“I stay in the forest.”

“
All
the time?”

He shrugs, those broad shoulders rising and falling in that hot-as-fuck leather jacket. Holy horned one, he’s not serious, is he? His fingers rake back through that dark hair, creating a tousled mass of spikes somehow even more appealing than before. I realize he’s not playacting.
Damn.
How long has it been since Jack Frost was around people anyway?

I take a breath and reach out my hand. “It’s easy, Jack. Just play normal.”

Almost warily, his palm brushes mine, rough and warm, the clasp of those strong fingers making me gulp.

“Play normal? Is that what you do?”

“All the time, or close enough. Wouldn’t want to be too boring, now would I?”

“I think boring is probably beyond you.”

His tone is not in the least ironic. I smile somewhat nervously and lead him down the path. By the time we reach the ice, I’ve conjured him some skates on the sly. Before long, he is betting me that I can’t catch him and of course, I have to take that bet. We’re racing around the rink, dodging kids who look like colorful blurs and couples slowly gliding hand in hand. Going so fast the humans can’t even see us, me keeping up with him by casting, though I have a feeling he could dust me in a heartbeat if he chose to.

He doesn’t, and before long I’ve got him trapped, my arms outstretched as I back him into one corner of the ice. Raising his hands in surrender, those eyes glinting, Jack laughs.

Then he goes still, his face utterly blank. As if the sound of his own laughter startled the hell out of him. Jack turns that icy gaze on me, his eyes narrowing, the look in them making me shiver. He smiles a second later and the feeling vanishes. He may be Jack Frost, but that smile could melt the ice under my toes. I feel like someone nailed me over the head with a cartoon anvil.

“Okay, okay, you win, princess. Let’s go get some coffee, you look cold.”

I raise my eyebrows despite the delight bubbling up in my throat. He gave me a nickname. A sweet one.
Aww
. Still… “Aren’t you a little old to be asking me out?”

“It’s just coffee.” A sidelong look, one that makes my stomach flutter. “And who came up to me bold as brass, begging for a kiss?”

“I didn’t beg.”

His eyes are glittering. “Yes, you kind of did.”

I sigh. He has a point. I may not know what Jack Frost wants with me, but I’m enjoying his company way too much to say no. “Alrighty then. Coffee it is.”

Minutes later, we’re off the ice, skates in hand, walking next to the harbor, where the lake gleams like a dull iron plate.

Tourists are sparse this time of year, so it’s just me and him. The silence stretches, the wind and lake ice creaking. He doesn’t attempt to fill it, but I can feel his eyes on me, and the intensity of his scrutiny unnerves me.

“You’re nothing like I expected,” I blurt out when we’re nearly there.

“Aren’t I?” Jack follows me down the steps to Amazing Grace, something in his voice that makes me glance at him over my shoulder. Stupid move, because the sight of him makes me stumble. I nearly fall flat on my face. But his fingers wrap around my arm, quick as a flash. God, he’s gorgeous. Dark chestnut hair backlit by the fire of the winter sun, those yummy eyes amused as he steadies me. “What did you expect?”

“Well, Jack Frost, you know. There’re all these stories about you.”

He reaches past me to open the door, lips quirking. “Surely not.”

We get our coffee before I pick up the thread of our conversation again. “Yes, there are. Lots of them. Cold. Emotionless. A man made of ice, inside and out. As ruthless as the north wind.”

Jack is leading me to an empty table, his fingers lightly brushing the small of my back.

He pulls out my chair, too. I’m not sure whether to feel awkward or charmed, but finally settle on a bit of both.

“And you don’t see me like that?” Something in his face hardens ever so slightly as he takes his seat. “Perhaps you haven’t known me long enough.”

“Bullshit. The guy who skated with me today is
not
emotionless.”

“Maybe I don’t know where that guy came from.” Something flickers in his eyes, something I think might be chagrin. “Maybe you brought him out.”

I snort. “Sure, blame me. A lot of people do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Shrugging, a little embarrassed to sound so typically adolescent, I grab for the sweeteners in the middle of the table, one white and one pink.  “Nothing, really. People seem to either hate me              or adore me. There is no middle ground.”

“Is that so?” He watches me tear the envelopes open with my teeth before pouring them into my coffee. “Well, at least they’re not apathetic, right?”

“I don’t know.” I think of all those attacks back when I was a kid. And the way so many guys seem to fall over themselves lately, trying to get my attention. Hell, even Georg has been acting weird around me lately. Looking at me like we haven’t known each other since we were both in diapers. I let out a breath. “A little apathy might be nice.”

“No. It’s really not, I assure you.” His lips curve and my heart does a little dance inside my chest.

Uh-oh.
This guy…there’s something about him.

He takes the envelopes from my suddenly nerveless fingers, the lean strength of his hands cupping mine briefly before pulling away. Tossing the pieces into the trash, his grin widens. It’s freaking lethal. I feel like one of those simpering girls in an old antebellum-era movie, waving a fan and in need of some smelling salts.
Stat
. “You want me to get you one of the blue packets, too—just so you can poison yourself properly?”

“Nah. I—”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “You got something…right there.”

My words catch in my throat as Jack leans forward.

His thumb slides along my lower lip, brushing away a few grains of sugar. I taste the sweetness along with the warm salt of his skin. His eyes are locked on my face, narrowing in sudden decision as his fingers tighten on my chin. Tilting my face up, he leans across the table. I can’t move, frozen in place, stunned as those warm lips brush mine.