The Frozen Witch Book One (12 page)

I felt tears begin to streak down my cheeks.
They were just as cold as the icy sensations still spreading
through my heart.

Saunders suddenly stopped, turning hard on
his shoe as I felt him incline his head the way I’d come. “You
haven’t killed him,” he said softly.

“I almost froze him to death. He could
have died of hypothermia,” I began.

“Lilly White, I would know if he were
dead,” Franklin said simply. There was something so reassuring
about his tone, so believable about his simple
statement.

God knows I didn’t trust Franklin, but right
now I hoped he wasn’t lying.

Though it would have been so easy to faint
against his chest, I used what little strength I had left to drag
my phone up. The dim light of its electronic screen was like a
torch. It lit up my bloodied fingers as they clutched around the
case.

But then I saw the signal bar and twitched
wildly. I began to dial an ambulance.

“He won’t need one of those,” Franklin
said, using that same simple, gentle, easy tone. The kind of tone
that could lull you to sleep.

“I have to call them – he’s injured. Oh
god, what have I done? I could have killed him.”

Franklin paused. I felt a strange tension
shift through his muscles as he did. And that tension? It seemed
important somehow.

“Did you act in anger or self-defense?” he
asked plainly.

“I…” I trailed off as I remembered that
flash of steel slicing towards my neck.

I shuddered.

“Self-defense, then,” Franklin came to his
own conclusion.

“I still shouldn’t have…” I trailed off.
My thoughts were becoming thick, heavy, and it took more and more
effort to push them through my mind.

There was still one thought that could move
me, though.

One terrifying thought.

I suddenly forced my eyes open and locked
them on Franklin.

He stared at me.

“Am I going to pay for this crime?” I
asked, voice trailing off and becoming weak.

Still staring down at me, he shook his
head. “No, this is not your crime.”

With that, I really did start to shut
down.

Everything became hazy. The last thing I saw
were his eyes – those crystal clear eyes staring down at me. There
was something so inviting about them. Inviting in the same way the
cold had been when I’d opened up to my magic. It promised to make
me more, so much more than I was now. But what did Franklin’s eyes
really promise?

I would have to find out.

I woke in my room. Not my real room – the
one in Vali’s tower. This was starting to become a habit.

It took me several blinks to remember what
had happened. Then I swore at my ceiling. I jerked a hand up and
checked it. When I couldn’t find any scars, I brought my other hand
up and checked that instead. Nothing. I distinctly remembered
grabbing up that sword and its burning handle blistering my skin.
In fact, if I half closed my eyes, I could even kindle up the scent
of singed flesh.

Shifting hard into my pillow, I rolled to
the side and clutched my shoulders, checking for any sign of
injury.

…
Nothing.

How could there be nothing? I’d blacked out
due to blood loss. The gash in my arm had been deep enough that I
would have required stitches.

But there was nothing.

I sat up as the morning sunlight streamed
through the crack in my curtains.

Drawing an arm up and locking it over my
face, I heard the door suddenly beep. “You will dress and see
Vali,” it said in a toneless ring.

I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed a hand
onto the center of my forehead. “Oh god.”

Literally.

Because apparently it was time to see the
god of revenge.

Though all I wanted to do was stay in my
warm, inviting bed, I didn’t have any option.

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and dressed.
There was a new pile of neat clothes sitting on one of the
expensive chairs in my room. A pair of blue jeans, a shirt, and,
thankfully, a thick jacket.

I felt the cold everywhere these days. As
soon as I wriggled into the jacket, I jacked its collar up and hid
behind it.

Then I shot the door a mutinous glare, just
daring it to tell me what to do again.

As if on cue, it beeped and swung open.

I jumped. Crumpling my lips in and biting
them as if I wanted to chew them off, I approached the door warily.
As soon as I made it out into the straight, short corridor beyond,
the door closed behind me with a thump.

I jumped.

Then, without any other option, I walked up
to Vali’s door. For some reason, my room only seemed to lead to
his. It was clear he didn’t want to give me any option for
escape.

As I approached the massive, thick, ancient,
wooden door, it opened with an ominous, spine-tingling creak.

With a steeling breath, I walked inside.

This time Vali didn’t pretend to be absorbed
by his work. This time he immediately shoved back, crossed his
impressive arms, and glared at me.

Fright burst through my belly, but I managed
to keep a handle on it by grinding my teeth together and telling
myself that if he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have woken up this
morning.

“Let me make something crystal-clear.”
Vali’s voice dropped as he leaned back in his chair. Though he was
a strong man with a large build, the chair didn’t creak, almost as
if it wouldn’t dare.

“What?” I asked through a crack in my
stiff lips.

“You will never take those off again.” He
pointed to the bangles.

I stiffened as I turned my neck down and
stared at the locks. “That man was about to kill me. I didn’t have
any option—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He brought up a
stiff hand and spread his fingers wide. “You will never take those
off again,” he said in that same ringing tone that made it clear he
didn’t expect me to reply.

And yet, I couldn’t stop myself. “You
threw me into that situation. I had no training. I still have no
idea—”

“Lilly White, you will promise me that you
will never take those off again unless I direct it,” he snapped
right over the top of me.

I ground my teeth together, feeling them
vibrating and shuddering down my jaw. Right now I wanted nothing
more than to lurch forward and kick the sanctimonious Franklin
Saunders. But from experience, that would get me nothing more than
a bruised toe. So instead, I stood there, clutching my hands behind
my back and curling them into such hard fists it would take a
crowbar to pry apart my fingers.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Fine. I’ll never take them off again,” I
said, voice a mix of dejection and yet frustration.

Satisfied, Franklin leaned back, steepled
his fingers, and looked at me.

I was never good with direct attention. But
Franklin Saunders’ attention? That wasn’t just direct – it was like
the universe dropped away and there was just the two of you. As he
stared at me, it appeared that nothing would distract him, and he
would only turn away when he saw fit. It was also clear that he was
assessing me, and from the grim look pressing across his lips, it
was equally clear that I did not measure up to scratch.

I let out a frustrated, bitter breath,
even though I knew better. I willed myself to shut up. I begged
myself not to open my mouth, but I couldn’t stop my lips. “Why is
it so goddamn important that I keep these things on? You want me to
track down your criminals, but how exactly can I do that if I
can’t—”

He put up another hand. There was a large
stapler sitting on his desk, and I got the urge to push forward and
staple his frigging hand to his chair so he could never jerk up
that massive palm and silence me so rudely ever again.

I, of course, just stood there, clutching my
fists until it felt like I’d crush my fingers.

I was suddenly struck by how different he
was. When he’d come to rescue me last night, I’d seen the kindness
in his eyes, felt the gentleness of his touch.

Now? It was like he was a different man.
With his jaw set so hard and his cold blue eyes glittering so
imperiously, he looked like a caricature of an arrogant asshole,
albeit an extremely handsome, godly one.

Had it just been an act? The kindness? Had
it just been a trap to lure me in? Did he want to keep me confused,
keep me pliable, keep me always guessing?

Or was something else going on here…?

He clearly saw me frowning. He waited
several seconds before leaning even further back in his seat. “What
is it?”

“Why are you so… different?”

“Different?” His tone had an edge, and his
eyes glittered with the kind of dangerous look that would tell any
normal person to shut the hell up.

I was no longer a normal person. Last night,
I had almost frozen a man to death in the basement of a night
club.

So I ploughed on. “Last night, when you
saved me… you were different. Nicer.” I let my voice bottom out.
“Or was that all an act?”

I fancied that a man like Franklin
Saunders knew exactly how to hide what he was thinking. I fancied
that he had been schooled since birth to control his body language,
his expression, his tone. He would be the best actor this side of
Broadway. So why did I suddenly see the tension climbing his jaw,
locking it in place, and stiffening his wide shoulders?

And that was nothing to mention the look in
his eyes. It became so edgy it was clear I’d hit a nerve.

I took a nervous step back, but didn’t
stop facing him. “How come you didn’t warn me about taking off my
locks last night? How come you didn’t—”

He rose, and my god was it an intimidating
move. The way he slowly locked his hands on the corner of his desk,
the way he shifted back, shoved his weight into the chair, and then
pulled himself to his full height. It didn’t just still my breath;
it riveted me to the spot.

“Don’t change the subject,” he warned.
“All that matters is your promise that you will never take your
armlets off again.”

I was pale with nerves, hands and shoulders
sweaty. And yet my curiosity flared.

Why did I suddenly get the impression that
Vali was the one changing the subject?

“Last night, you were—” I
began.

“You will stop speaking of last night,” he
commanded in a voice that rumbled through the room and left me with
absolutely no question that he meant what he was saying.

I actually gulped. I did not, however,
stop looking at him. I couldn’t help but pick up how rigid he’d
become, how cold and guarded his gaze was.

Though I wanted to keep pushing, I quickly
realized it was suicidal. Instead, I took another step back. “Fine.
I won’t mention it again. But—”

He brought up that same goddamn hand and
spread those same goddamn fingers stiffly, silencing me. “There are
no buts. And you will not rescind on your promise. You will never
take those armlets off again. Unless I request it,” he suddenly
added.

My eyebrows crumpled. “You request
it?”

“Yes,” he growled. “You will only do so
under my instruction and in my presence.” His voice rumbled on the
word my.

I frowned even harder. “Why?”

“I will not explain myself to you. Now
this conversation is over, you will go and request another
assignment.”

“Already?” My voice shot up like a kazoo.
“I almost died last night.”

“Almost. And yet now you are fine.” He
gestured to me with a stiff hand.

Wait, he was right – I was fine, wasn’t I?
Before I’d marched in here to have this meeting with him, the fact
I had no injuries had been a pertinent one. I’d forgotten it in the
face of his arrogant brutality. Now I frowned. “What exactly
happened to my injuries, anyway? I almost burnt my hand clean
off.”

“They were healed,” he commented
simply.

“How?”

“You ask questions I have no time to
answer. Now, go and request another assignment.”

My nervousness at his anger began to wane.
In its place, my own anger grew. Where the hell did this guy get
off treating me so badly? Okay, so technically he was a revenge god
out to keep humanity in check. But why exactly did he treat my
every request for information like an insult?

He stared at me with a hard-edged jaw for
several seconds, obviously willing me to go against his warning and
ask more questions.

I didn’t. Instead, I stared back. Then I
let my arms unhook from behind my back. I now made absolutely no
attempt to hide my tightly clenched fists. “I guess I’ll be
leaving, then,” I commented as I turned hard on my foot and headed
for the door.

“One more thing,” he said as I heard him
turn and lean against his desk.

I stiffened.

“Have you told anybody about what happened
in that basement?”

“About the fact I almost killed a man?” I
choked on my words.

“No, about the ice.” His tone became…
unreadable. Guarded.

I couldn’t help but turn over my shoulder to
stare at him.

He stared right back. “Have you told
anybody about the ice?” he demanded once more.

I felt a shiver – tight, cold, strong. It
powered through my chest and exploded through my heart. “No. I
haven’t had a chance to—”