Kiss of Frost

Preston jerked his head in that direction. 'Shall we?'

I nodded. We walked over and sat down on the bench. Preston leaned back and stretched his arm out across the top of the bench, almost like he was putting it around my shoulders. We both had on jackets, and he was wearing gloves, so there was no danger of me getting any kind of vibe off him. Still, I liked being close to him.

For a moment I wondered what would happen if I leaned over and brushed my fingers against Preston's face. What I would see and feel if I used my Gypsy gift to flash on him. Guys were so hard to read, especially supercute ones like Preston, and my magic was basically my own personal, built-in lie and bullshit detector. My psychometry would let me know what he really thought of me. If he thought I was pretty or funny or a total freak. If he really liked me or was thinking about someone else or was just sitting here with me because he thought he might get laid.

The temptation to find out the answers was so strong that it made my fingers twitch with anticipation, but I forced myself to stick my hands into my jacket pockets. I wasn't going to do that, I wasn't going to use my magic that way. I wasn't going to pull secrets out of people just because I had the power to do so, just because I wanted to know what they were up to. It was a decision I'd made a few weeks back, when I'd realized Logan had a secret he was hiding from me-one that was keeping us apart.

Besides, tonight I wanted something-something simple, easy, uncomplicated, and yeah, totally romantic, too. I thought that sitting on a bench with a cute guy and watching the flakes of snow gather in his white blond hairde finitely qualified as romantic.

'So you go to Mythos down here in the South,' Preston said. 'What year are you?'

'Second-year. You?'

'Fourth,' he said.

That would make him nineteen then, two years older than me. Not too old at all.

'So what are you?' I asked. 'Spartan? Roman? Some other kind of warrior whiz kid?'

Preston shook his head, and his face seemed to darken for a moment before he answered me. 'Nope, I'm just a Viking. I have a younger sister, too, but, of course, she's a Valkyrie.'

I nodded. Siblings shared the same blood and heritage in warrior families, just like they did in normal mortal families, but the kids weren't always labeled as the same kind of warriors. Usually, the boys were Vikings, while the girls were Valkyries. Or if the boys were Romans, then the girls were Amazons. Then there were some warrior families where it was all the same, where both the boys and the girls were considered to be Spartans, Samurais, Ninjas, or whatever. Daphne had tried to explain it to me one day, but I hadn't really understood.

'And I'm definitely not a whiz kid,' Preston continued. 'At least not according to my parents whenever the academy e-mails them my grades. I'm currently flunking myth-history, just like I did last semester and the one before that.'

'Aw, don't feel too bad,' I said in a teasing tone. 'I'm even worse off. I'm pretty much failing gym right now. Seriously, failing gym. How lame is that?'

We looked at each other, and we both started laughing. His deep, sexy voice, my lighter one. I liked the way they sounded together.

'So you're failing gym-why?' Preston asked. 'Do they do something different down here at the Southern academy that they don't do up in New York?'

I shrugged. 'Probably not. I'm just not all that coordinated. What about you?'

Preston shrugged as well. 'I'm pretty good with a sword, but I kind of suck when it comes to some of the other weapons. And I absolutely despise archery. My aim is just never any good.'

I flashed back to the arrow thunking into the bookcase a foot away from my head in the Library of Antiquities. 'I don't like archery much either.'

We just started talking after that, about the two academies and the differences between them, about our classes and professors, about music and movies and sports and books. I liked Preston. He was smart, funny, and charming-and so totallygorgeous.

Part of me still couldn't believe that he didn't have a girlfriend-and that he was hanging out with me instead of going into the coffee shop and finding someone cuter to flirt with. Someone like Morgan, who would have probably already asked him to go back to her room. But I wasn't about to complain. For once, I was having a good time, and I was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

We'd been sitting on the bench talking for about half an hour when the snow started to pick up, coming down in a thick shower of fat, fluffy flakes. For some reason, the snow made me think of Nike. It was cold, beautiful, and dangerous all at the same time, just like the goddess of victory.

A shiver swept through my body, and I realized that my nose and cheeks had gone numb from sitting outside. Preston noticed my shiver. He scooted closer, wrapped his arm around me, and stared into my eyes. For a second, I thought he might lean forward and kiss me. My heart thumped up into my throat in anticipation. Part of me wanted him to-and part of me still wished it was Logan out here with me instead.

'You want to get out of here?' Preston asked in a soft voice. 'Maybe go somewhere warmer and… talk?'

I didn't know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I'd be happy with any one of them. I smiled at him. 'Let's go.'

Chapter 11

Preston got to his feet and held out his hand. I slipped my bare fingers into his palm, enjoying the smooth feel of his glove on my skin. A second later, my pscyhometry kicked in and showed me an image of Preston sitting in a dark car and pulling on the black gloves.

No big whoop. It was exactly the kind of thing I'd expected to see, exactly the kind of thing I had seen hundreds of times before when touching someone's clothes. Usually, I barely noticed those sorts of flashes, although this time, I felt like there was more to the memory, something hovering right at the edge of my mind.