Frostbite (Touch of Frost) (31 page)

Read Frostbite (Touch of Frost) Online

Authors: Lynn Rush

Tags: #New Adult Paranormal

BOOK: Frostbite (Touch of Frost)
11.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“We’re almost done, come on, we’re close.” I reached down and helped her up. “Let’s go.”

The other side of the house was less guarded, and darker. What, did they think we wouldn’t sneak around the back?

A hard smack to the cheek sent me spinning. I never saw it coming, but my ice shield should have deflected it.

It
so
didn’t.

I just had bullets bouncing off me. How could something shatter through and hit my cheek?

Georgia’s weakness must have distracted me. I stumbled, dragging my sister down with me. I released her to steady myself and tried to get my bearings. The darkness hid whatever had hit me.

Georgia pushed herself up but was yanked back, like a rope lassoed her and pulled her away from me. Her flame brightened, but whatever had wrapped itself around her didn’t relent, and the darkness swallowed her whole.

Another slam to my face. This time to my jaw.

It cracked. Pain radiated down the side of my face. I brought my hand to my cheek and chilled it until the throbbing subsided.

“Jasmine, get Georgia.” I looked around. “Jasmine? Georgia?”

No one’s voice rang in my ears.
Shit.
I sprinted in the direction Georgia had gone, but snapping branches made me stop. I squatted and looked to my right. Someone sped at me, not as fast as Jasmine, but faster than a human.

I recognized the short buzz cut.

Andrey Sidorov.

He held something silver in his right, gloved hand. And the speed. No wonder I hadn’t registered what hit me.

Damn it.

He’d seemed so scared of me when I was captive, but not anymore. He bore forward with superhuman speed. I sprayed ice, forming a thick wall in front of me. Shoulder first, he crashed right through it and tackled me, his body crushing into my stomach.

It was like a freaking tank hit me.

The impact hurled me against the rocky ground, forcing all the air from my lungs. I’d barely made it to my feet when he clamped his hand around my throat.

He smiled. His fingers tightened, seriously restricting my airflow. Not that I had any left after his shoulder-slam.

Up I went, then he slammed me against the ground with a roar.

I clasped one hand around his wrist and turned on the cold, while I balled the other one into a tight fist and iced it up. I clocked his temple. He didn’t let go of my throat. I frosted his digits, and crashed my solid fist against his nose. He shook his head. Jeez, did nothing faze this guy? I cranked on his wrist. Something snapped.

He raised his other hand to clobber me with whatever he’d hammered me with before.
Ice,
I mentally screamed since I couldn’t say anything.

Frost instantly covered his face, and he pushed off me. A quick roll, and he was on his feet again, facing me. Legs bent, weapon raised.

What the hell was that little thing? A miniature club? No, one of those police night sticks. Only smaller and silver. Metal, like those damn clamps that had held me so securely.

He zoomed back at me and went for my neck again with one hand while his other clobbered at the remainder of the ice protecting my skull.

I cranked my knee up, hitting him in the spot no man wants to be hit, and he jerked forward.

“Don’t have that fancy steel there, do you?” I focused on freezing my forehead, then head-butted him. Despite the ice protecting me, it still rattled my brain.

A solid tug on my arm had me flying through the air. Again, with the trees.

I reached out to break the impact. The coarse branches shredded my skin. Gravity yanked me down. A branch to my chest bounced me back. Stinging bark scraped along my arm. My shoulder ricocheted off another branch. Even with all that, I didn’t slow down much. I sprayed snow, but I still landed with a painful thud.

I needed help.

“Georgia. Jasmine.” I coughed. Iron-laced warmth pooled in my mouth as I rolled onto all fours, gasping for the air the impact robbed from me. Rocks dug into my kneecaps.

Muffled noises rattled my earpiece as I rolled over, but before I could think, Mr. Thick-Neck towered over me.

“It
isss
no use, little
von
.” His thick Russian accent surprised me.

“Back off, Sidorov.”

Behind him, a dim light came into focus. Could it be Georgia? Or was it the bright Light I’d hoped to meet up with when I died?

I cooled down not that it was helping much against the weapon he had. “What’s your story, then?”

“I
hafff
no story. You must be destroyed. Too dangerous. I am only
von
who can do it.”

I frosted some more. White breaths billowed long, deep and often, betraying how tired he was. He shifted his weight. I recognized that movement from when I was pinned to the chair in the hotel-from-hell.

Good, you should be scared.
The intense energy thundering through my veins startled me. My powers must sense the danger wafting off this cold-blooded maniac. An explosion inside the house threatened to distract me, but I kept my eyes fixed on him. He didn’t flinch.

“You’re strong, but are you strong enough?” I asked as I stood.

“I do not
hafff
to be. I
hafff
other
vays
,” he said with his throaty accent.

He slowly backed away.

“So, did they make you from one of their cocktails and breed you in a Petri dish? Or are you a product of one of their subjects?”

His mouth curved into a crooked smile. He inched toward the trees, away from the house.

I turned on the cold some more. He shivered.

The creases around his eyes and mouth deepened as his smile widened. “You are powerful, indeed, young Hillman.” His stare bore into me like two daggers. “You look just like your mother before I sliced her thin, delicate skin.”

 

 

 

 

THIRTY-NINE

 

M
y world tilted at Andrey’s confession. I’d known the
Coats
had killed my mom, but not specifically who.

The murderer advanced on me faster than I could register. And all I felt was pain.

Lots of it.

My side, my face, my arm. I lost track. That damn stick of his was working through the barriers I had set with each strike. His words stung as they echoed through my brain. He’d killed Mom. And probably Dad, too. Sliced them open, letting them bleed to death. By doing so, he’d stolen the two most important people in my life.

He’d left me an orphan. Images of my parents’ bloody bodies fast-forwarded in my mind.

With his other hand, he drew out another silver object. This one I recognized immediately.

Knife.

A switch flipped. Anger ignited. A blast of ice pellets shot from my hands as I raised them to deflect another direct hit. I screamed so loud, my throat burned. Arctic air spewed from my mouth and sent Andrey flying. My hair flapped in an unexplained gust of wind. While Andrey was midair, I sprayed him with sleet.

Suddenly his trajectory shifted, and he collided with a tree trunk. A blurry figure raced around him several times, binding him to the tree.

Jasmine came into focus as she stopped in front of him.

“It’s that netting stuff they were shooting at us. He’s secure,” she gasped. “Georgia’s down. She’s not healing.”

“Bring her to me.” I approached Andrey.

I wrapped my fingers around his hand that held the weapon he’d beaten against my ice. “That’s an interesting little tool you have here. One of the gifts the
Coats
gave you?” I ripped it from his hand and held it up.

Smooth. Shiny, not a dent or scratch despite the damage it’d reeked on my thickest ice. “Same metal as the clamps.”

His eyes widened. Jaw clenched. He lurched forward, but the restraints held.

I grabbed the hand that held the blade and cranked up the cold. The blaze from the flaming house highlighted a vein bulging in his forehead. He probably fought every instinct to yell.

In extreme conditions, frostbite could happen in less than two minutes.

I’d have him screaming before I was through.

“Are there any more like you?” I asked. “Like us?”

His labored breathing echoed off the surrounding trees. A gust of wind announced Jasmine’s arrival. She held Georgia in her arms.

“Are there any more houses like this? Any more Centers?” I increased the pressure on my grip. He flinched, hissing a breath through clenched teeth.

I stepped toward Georgia, but stayed close enough to still hold Andrey’s hand. Somehow what I had to do flowed into my mind. Like Jasmine said, it was instinct.

“Set her down, Jas.”

She obeyed without a word. Still keeping a tight hold on Andrey, I squatted down and touched Georgia’s shoulder. The coolness flowed from my fingers, and in a matter of seconds, ice encased her.

I faced Sidorov. “Answer me before I freeze you back to the Ice Age. Are there any more Centers around?”

He glared at me, nostrils flaring. “They
ver
right. You are stronger than the mother.”

My frozen fist crashed into his cheek. The bones caved with a sickening crunch. “That’s right, you jackass. Answer me! Are there more Centers? Where? How many?”

Andrey laughed, crinkling the deep scar on his left cheek. His army-buzzed hair glistened with frost. “She
vas
a very beautiful
voman
.”

I cooled my grip. All my anger and rage focused on crushing his hand.

His scream ricocheted off the trees shrouding us.

Ice crackled next to me. Flames erupted like a volcano from the cocoon encasing Georgia. She burst through, her skin flaming orange.

Andrey turned his head to the side, most likely from the heat radiating from my sister.

“Ready, sis?” she asked.

I released my death grip around Andrey’s hand. I’d give him some time to think about not answering me again.

“You okay, G?”

“Feel great.” Damp hair clung to her forehead. “Let’s do this.”

We stepped toward the hotel-from-hell, and I braced myself for the mother of all blasts. I slammed the side of the brick wall with a stream of frozen water. A basketball-sized blast of fire shot out from Georgia’s palm. It shattered through my patch of ice like a rocket and into the building.

Less than five seconds later, the ground shook beneath my feet like an earthquake. Rumbling. Groaning metal.

An explosion ripped through the structure, sending a percussion over us as a cloud of debris and smoke mushroomed into the night.

I threw up a shield of ice to deflect rubble raining over us. We backed toward the tree where Andrey was tied, but he was gone.

“Shit. Jasmine,” I screamed above the mini-explosions projecting from the house. “Find him.”

The house caved in on itself, sending another plume of ash and soot into the air.

Georgia and I stood straight. She touched her forefinger to the corner of my ice shield, and it crumbled to slush.

“Whoa, you are strong, girl,” I said.

I looked at the decimated building, walls still caving in, crumbling. Crackling and groaning were like music to my ears.

Flames danced against the dark night. I coated the surrounding trees with water and ice, hoping to contain the massive fire to the house. That was the only thing we needed to disappear.

Along with everything in it.

Jasmine arrived by my side in a gust of wind. “He’s gone. I can’t find him.”

“Shit.”

“Anyone else hanging around?” Georgia asked.

“Nope. Didn’t see any astronaut suits either.” Jasmine planted her hands on her hips as she watched the fire burn. “Dang. Remind me to never ever get you guys pissed at me.”

I welcomed Jasmine’s humor right now. It kept me distracted from the bombshell Andrey had dropped about Mom and my ultimate failure.

I’d come face-to-face with her killer, and I let him get away.

 

 

 

 

FORTY

 

J
asmine steered the car into a parking space in the side lot of the hotel. I cranked the handle and shoved the door open. Zach bolted to me. Jasmine’s speed would have come in handy right about then, but I settled for a slow, human sprint.

My reward was a tight embrace. There was no safer place.

Another set of arms wove around me. Scott joined in, and I caught a glimpse of his tear-dampened face.

No doubt he’d heard what Andrey had said about Mom.

That was when I lost it.

I melted to my knees with Zach and Scott. An earthquake-sized tremor vibrated through my tired body.

Even though the weight of The Center had been lifted from my shoulders, I still felt heavy.

Other books

Enchanted Pilgrimage by Clifford D. Simak
The Merchant's Daughter by Melanie Dickerson
Forty-Four Caliber Justice by Donald L. Robertson
The Big Oyster by Mark Kurlansky