Cold Spell

drunk with imagined scenes where I punch Mora in her perfect teeth and pull Kai away from her—scenes cut with images of me and Ella horseback riding. Lucas and me driving around town. The three of us sitting at a dinner table together. They want me. I want them. I want this place. I want everything to be simple and beautiful and warm.

I want to stay so badly that for a moment, it feels as if my limbs don’t work anymore—as if they’re too heavy for me to lift, far too heavy for me to even consider something like getting up and walking. I squeeze my eyes shut. Kai. You’re all he has. You’re the only one who will fight for him, really fight for him.

Even though a future with Ella and Lucas is beautiful, one where Kai and I are the ones making quiche together is far more so. I can’t stay.

I heave myself to standing and proceed to creep around in the darkness, throwing my clothes into a bag. It won’t zip up; I finally pull out the red heels Ella gave me and tuck them under my arm. My bedroom door creaks open, the sound echoing through the darkened house. I ease down the stairs, inhaling the scent of cleaner and perfume that permeates this place. I try not to think of what Ella will do or say when she realizes I’m gone.

I bang my hip on the kitchen corner and curse under my breath. My phone is dead, so I turn on the little television on the kitchen wall and immediately lower the volume. After a few clicks I find a weather report and wait for the map to come up. Snow in southern Kentucky—record temperatures expected. That’s where I’ll go.

“You’re leaving?”

I cry out and spin around, flinging my hair into my face. It’s Lucas, standing in the doorway wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants His hair is rumpled—he was asleep. I catch my breath, blinking back tears of surprise. Lucas is perfectly still, waiting; finally, I nod in answer to his question. I’m trembling a little, both from being startled and worrying that he’s going to stop me. Lucas inhales and looks at the floor for a moment.

“Are you sure you want to get even more involved in this?”

“If it were Ella, would you go after her?”

“Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “Give us a few hours to take care of things and we’ll come with you.” He turns to go upstairs—

“No,” I say, louder than I intended. Lucas looks back at me, something like hurt in his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want you to come,” I say quickly. “It’s that I can’t let you.”

“Is this some sort of ‘I have to face her on my own’ delusion? Because I’m happy to inform you just how bullshit that is.”

“No,” I answer. “You and Ella are a family. You’re happy. You’re together. You’re…” I pause, looking down. “You’re everything I want for Kai and me. So I can’t let you come with me and risk your lives. You said the first night we met—I’ve got a death wish doing this.”

Lucas looks thrown. He shakes his head. “But we can’t just let you go. Ella’s definitely not going to let you go. She’s seen what wolves do to people.”

I inhale. “Don’t wake her up. Say I snuck out in the night.”

“She’ll see through that lie in a heartbeat.”

“But I’ll be gone,” I say quietly. “Please, Lucas. I already might lose Kai. I wouldn’t be able to handle losing you guys, too.”

Lucas stares. He wants to call for Ella, wants to let her rush down and persuade me to stay. But finally he sighs and holds up a finger. “Wait just a minute?” Lucas turns and I hear him go back upstairs. I let my bag slouch off my shoulder while the weatherman continues to talk about Kentucky in the background. The channel has changed to some sort of countdown of the country’s worst snowstorms when Lucas returns clutching something. He walks over to me, still a little bleary-eyed, and gestures for my hand. I open my palm; Lucas drops a money clip packed tight with bills into it. I’ve never had so much money in my life; my eyes widen.

“I had the back window of your car fixed yesterday, but still—don’t sleep in your car again,” he says, smiling a little. “Stick to the highways—people ask fewer questions. And when you find them again, Ginny,” he says, shaking his head, “don’t fight her. She’s stronger and faster and a fucking snow witch. Just take Kai and run.”

“What if I have to fight her?” I ask seriously.

He shakes his head, then swallows. “Don’t say that. Ella’s going to be mad enough at me when I let her know you’re good as dead.”

Lucas’s words make my throat feel swollen; my stomach feels tilted. I nod, though, trying not to think about them. I think about Ella instead, what she told me—that right now, I can do everything. I tuck the fold of money into my coat swiftly, meet Lucas’s eyes for a long time, and then turn. He shuts the door behind me as I stumble out into the snow.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I became certain Kai and I were meant to be when we were eleven and I knew what our wedding would look like.

It sounds silly, but dozens of other eleven-year-olds were also inexplicably planning their own weddings—it was practically an epidemic at our elementary school. They talked about reality shows involving dresses and bridesmaids and threw around terms like fit-and-flair and white bar. One girl in my class even bragged about having a seating chart in mind. But the fact that I didn’t know any of those terms and had far better things to think about than seating charts is what made me so certain that I was going to end up with Kai. Because, despite not knowing much about dresses or entrees, I knew that he would be there.

He was the only certainty.

I didn’t say anything to him, of course, but I didn’t need to. A few weeks later, after the seating-chart girl got in trouble for starting a fight over her choice of maid of honor, Kai looked at me and said, “Can we just get married in Las Vegas, like they do on TV?”

I nodded, thinking myself lucky that this was settled sooner rather than later. It wasn’t until I told my mom and she made a face that I realized it was a little odd, two eleven-year-olds shrugging with certainty over their wedding. I was embarrassed and wondered if I should talk it over with someone.

So I talked it over with Kai, until we decided to not care what the world thought. Vegas, limousines, and each other. That was all we needed.

It’s beautiful. For a moment, just as I’m crossing into Kentucky, the sun is cresting over the hills and I forget about Mora and her role in the snow’s presence. Chunks are falling from the trees, melting, though the promise of cold weather ahead remains. I wonder when I’ll hit the storm—how far her power reaches. I look down at Grandma Dalia’s cookbook, thinking about the mystery boy hidden in the back. Hidden away, as if she thought out of sight could render him out of mind.

It didn’t work, obviously. I guess you can’t forget love any more than you can forget the Snow Queen.

I have my phone plugged into the car charger; it’s been dead for ages. There are two messages on it from my mom, one asking if Dad will be driving me to school, the other asking if I took her yellow shirt. I text her no to both and wonder if Atlanta has finally thawed.

I make it till about noon before my eyes burn from exhaustion and I realize I have to sleep. I pull off the interstate and look at the collection of chain hotels that dot the exit. One looks decidedly less expensive than the rest, making it my immediate choice. Just as I’m about to turn into it, I realize a teen girl checking in alone will probably rouse some suspicion, if I’m even allowed to rent a room without being eighteen. I frown, park in a McDonald’s lot, and stare at the hotel’s entryway, trying to figure out how to work this.

Clearly, I’ll just have to lie about being seventeen. I lean into the backseat and grab hold of a coat Ella gave me, along with the red heels. I yank my hair into a ponytail, tugging a few pieces down around my face, then bite at my lips until they turn red and flushed. I slide off my tennis shoes, put on the heels, and step out of the car. I focus on the details—the way Ella walks, the way her smile goes from the center of her lips out, the way she lifts her chin when she’s asking a question. Details, focus on the details and hope they’re good enough to