Mora stared out over the ice, leaning against the door frame of the cottage. As immense as her powers were, she couldn’t thaw the lake instantly, return the ice to violent, deep water that few would venture across. Freezing was easy enough—she just pulled heat away from the water. But thawing? Thawing required the sun, warmth, things that were beyond the scope of her talents. The best she could do was crack the ice here and there, break it into smaller and smaller pieces until it collapsed.
Kai and two other guards walked up the hill together and drew her attention from the white horizon. Their arms were bare, revealing gray-blue skin, which made Mora smile—Kai was coming along well. Perhaps he was finished….
“Kai,” she called out. “Come here for a moment.” Kai broke from the others and tried to jog toward her but stumbled in the thick snow. Mora laughed, which made Kai grin as he hauled himself to his feet.
“Yes?” he said when he finally reached her.
“Do you remember a girl named Ginny?” she asked, running a finger along her collarbone.
Kai hesitated, then nodded. “She’s a girl I used to know. I can’t remember what she looks like.”
Mora frowned—she’d hoped he would have forgotten her entirely by now, given how fast he was changing initially. She couldn’t be down a guard on the off chance Ginny or the Fenris made it across the lake. Mora reached down, letting her fingers dance along the inside of Kai’s wrist. “Edward and Larson are inside. They’re going to play a little concert for me. Join them?”
“Of course,” Kai said, then followed Mora into the house. The door remained open, casting snowflakes across the gray wood floors. Larson was clearing his throat, standing by a piano that Edward was polishing gently. Most of her current guard were pianists or strings players. There’d been a period where she’d mostly wanted woodwinds, and another where she collected folksy guitar players—most of them poor, dangerous-looking boys with a swagger she enjoyed.
Mora went to the opposite side of the room and sat down on a stiff-cushioned couch while Kai ran to fetch his violin. She drew circles with her fingernails on the couch arm, smiling at the way her rings sparkled like blocks of ice on her fingers. Eventually, her eyes wandered to the bookshelf at the far end of the room.
In the center of one shelf was a ship in a bottle, one she found in an antiques store ages ago and bought with a smile and a kiss. It was beautiful, intricate, with giant white sails and CITY OF GLASGOW written on the side in gold. She bought it because it reminded her of a ship in the ocean, one she and the other ocean girls lived near. It was the only thing that anchored them to a single spot in the vast, unforgiving sea. The bottled ship was polished and sleek, but the one underwater had anemone-covered staircases, shelves covered in starfish, and still-corked bottles of wine, things she eventually saw as part of her home, the way humans might see a bedroom set or a front door.
She’d tried once, ages ago, to help her ocean sisters leave the Fenris. She tried to find the boys they loved, so they could be kissed and freed. She never found a single boy—never even worked out where to start looking. How do you find a boy who loved a human girl, when the human girl is fading fast, turning darker by the day? It was impossible. Mora decided it was better to accept the fact that she was a fluke, an accident, and embrace her new life.
A life she wouldn’t give up now, not over some stupid girl unable to leave well enough alone. Kai returned, violin in hand; she smiled at him and folded her hands in her lap. He spent a few moments tuning the instrument, then raised his bow, looking nervous.
“Go on,” Mora whispered, and Kai obeyed. He drew the bow across the strings; a low, solid note filled the room, swimming through the walls and floorboards. Edward joined him with high notes on the piano. Larson began to sing in Italian, voice booming like the loudest instrument of all. Mora sighed and sat back.
When they finished, she let her eyes dance across them, her gaze remaining on Kai the longest. Finally she rose and walked over to Larson.
“Larson,” she said, leaning in to drag her lips along his collarbone. “You’d never leave me, right?”
“Of course not,” he said immediately. Mora smiled, kissed him deeply and bit at his lip. She stepped away and left him looking starved and wanting. She moved to Edward, who turned around on the piano bench to face her.
“What about you?” she asked him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to pull her into his lap. Mora always liked the way Edward held her—he cradled her, as if she was something precious. “Do you want to go back to your old life?” she whispered in his ear, pressing a palm against his cold chest. It felt like rock, smooth and solid.
“I don’t remember it,” Edward said, shrugging. “How could I leave
Mora tilted her head, relieved she hadn’t gotten rid of Edward after all. She stroked his cheek, then rose and walked toward Kai. She inhaled slowly, keeping her eyes locked on his. A gust of snow swept through the house, up and around their bodies, drawing them closer. Kai sighed as Mora slid a hand up his chest and wound her fingers through his black hair; it looked like spilled ink on her pale skin. Kai set the violin down on the piano as Mora teased at the bow that remained in his right hand. She ran her fingers up the boy, up his arms, and finally curled both hands behind his neck.
“Kai,” she whispered, arching her back so her chest met his. “Do you love me?”
“Of course. More than anything,” he answered, and brought his lips down to kiss her. She shook her head and pulled back; Kai shrank beneath her hands.
“I mean it,” Mora whispered, voice now barely audible over the wind that whipped ever louder outside. “Do you love me? Promise you’ll never leave me? You’ll protect me?”
“Yes.” This time, his voice was breathy and serious; his eyes on hers. Now she locked her hands behind his head, pulled him to her mouth, and kissed him so hard she felt him flinch with pain. It was only a moment, though, and then he gave in to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, lifting her off the ground. When Mora finally released him, Kai’s eyes were beautifully dark, the color of tree bark in the winter.
“Am I like the others now?” he asked as he set her feet back on the floor.
“Darling,” Mora said, running her fingers across his lips. “You’re perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I blink, unsure when, exactly, it got bright enough for me to see. It’s gray outside, misty and monochrome. Wind rattles the naked branches of the tree outside the hotel room window, sending wafts of snow across the balcony.
Lucas is still asleep—
Our hotel is at the top of a small hill dotted by trees with fat trunks. Ice is perfectly balanced along the tops of branches, like an outline. Every now and then I hear a cracking sound that reminds me of a gunshot, a rumbling, and then see a quick burst of movement—branches giving way to the added weight of the ice and snow.
I blink a few times, then stare across the lake. Is that the island? It’s far, a gray shadow on the horizon, and it takes me a long time to decide if it’s a cloud or land—it isn’t until the wind blows some of the mist away that I’m certain it’s Isle Royale. I wonder if Mora knows I’m still following her, or if she thinks I gave up after Nashville.
I wonder if Kai knows that I haven’t given up yet. Surely. He knows me, better than anyone. I close my eyes and think for a moment about the way he’d pull me close when I said something funny. The way he’d laugh and kiss my forehead and tell me without saying a word that he loved me. I want that right now, so badly—not only to be reminded Kai loves me, but to laugh with him again. Just one more time.
