Kissed by Ice (16 page)

"Of course." Roberts nodded, turned to me, and gave me a gentlemanly little nod. "Ma'am. I'll be back for ya'll when you're finished." He stepped out into the hall and closed the door softly behind him. I could have sworn I heard him whistling.

We didn't have long to wait before the door opened again, and two guards strode into the room, a small figure in fluorescent orange between them. They sat Jade in the chair opposite us and locked her handcuffs to the table. Without another word they turned and strode out, shutting the door behind them.

I stared at the girl across the table. She'd changed since I last saw her. She was paler, her cheeks more gaunt, and dark roots were beginning to show in her short platinum-blonde hair. Even her posture had changed, her shoulders slightly bowed as if they carried the weight of the world. Dark circles under her eyes aged her far beyond her years.

"Hi, Jade," I said gently.

"Hey," she said, not looking at me. She stared down at the table, as if it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. Her thin hands were clutched together on top of the steel table, her knuckles white.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. "I mean, are they treating you okay?"

She shrugged. "No different than before. What do you care?" Some of the old Jade arrogance returned, but only for a moment.

"I care because what was done to you was wrong. No one deserves that. No one should have to go through that, and I'm sorry you did. I want to help you. If I can. If you'll let me." Despite what she'd done to me, to Inigo, I meant every word.

She glanced up, and judging by the look on her face, she didn't believe me. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Couldn't say I blamed her. After what those bastards had done to her, I wouldn't trust anyone either.

"You been talking to a shrink?" I changed tactics.

She snorted, seeming amused. "Yeah, every damn day. Like it's going to do any good." Her very slight English accent was a little stronger today.

"Keeps the suits happy, though, doesn't it?"

She shrugged, handcuffs clinking against the table. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, that's better than the alternative, isn't it?" I asked, and got another shrug for my trouble.

There was something I knew that Jade didn't. And that was that her shrink wasn't really a shrink. Not in the normal sense of the word. He was a supernatural, and he was the only thing standing between her and a permanent psych ward or worse. His people had the ability to manipulate brainwave patterns, at least temporarily. It was his regular suppression of the impulses put in her brain by the Queen and Brent Darroch that was keeping Jade sane. Without him, she'd still be the crazed killer I'd met months ago.

"Is there anything you need Jade? Anything I can help you with?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Get me out of here?" She glanced up, her eyes peeking through her overlong bangs. There was desperation there. I got it. Hunters 'didn't do well being locked up, and she was a Dragon Hunter. She was even less suited to confined spaces than I was.

"I wish I could," I said. "You've got a way to go before they're going to let you out of here, you know that." If they ever did. "But if you help me, it'll go a long way toward proving you're ready to rejoin society."

Her look was rife with suspicion. "How can I help you?"

"Alister Jones," I said. "Do you know where he is?"

"Why would I know where he is?" Her tone was defensive, but I'd seen her stiffen at the mention of his name.

"You were close once," I said. "Maybe he told you something about his plans?"

"Alister Jones left me to rot," she said bitterly. "Why would he tell me anything?"

"Okay, how about a book? A very special book. Did he ever mention that?"

She mulled that over. "Actually, he did. Yeah. He used to go on about some book he said had magical powers." She snorted. "I just thought he was crazy, you know? Or like one of those conspiracy people they always have on TV that are prepping for Doomsday or looking for aliens or whatever. I didn't think he meant an actual magical book."

"Do you remember anything he said about it or what he planned to use it for?"

She shook her head, her long bangs practically covering her face. "No. He just rattled on about how it was going to change the world. He never said anything about how or anything like that."

"He never told you where he kept it?"

"Of course not. He wouldn't tell me something like that. He did say that it was someplace obvious. Like, he always said it was so obvious no one would ever think to look there. And then he'd laugh. No, wait." Her focus grew cloudy as if she was trying to recall something. "He didn't say 'no one.' He said you."

"Excuse me?"

"Alister said the place he'd hidden the book was so obvious 'Morgan Bailey would never think to look there.'"

That didn't really help. It could be anywhere. The UK, the US. Heck, it could be anywhere in the world, knowing Alister. He could have hidden it in the Otherworld, for all I knew.

"Was there someplace he talked about going? Maybe a special place he liked to visit? A favorite vacation spot? Or somewhere he liked to go to be alone?" Trevor prompted.

Jade scrunched up her forehead as if deep in thought. "Well, there was this one place. He used to talk about wanting to go there, but I don't think he'd ever been there before. He never said why, but he was kind of obsessed with it."

Trevor and I exchanged looks. This was it. This had to be it.

"And that was?" I prodded.

"Michigan."

# # #

"Michigan? Why the hell would my father want to go to Michigan?" Despite the tinny quality of the speaker phone, Kabita clearly sounded as baffled as I felt. She was obviously shocked enough to forget herself and refer to Alister as her father. She'd been careful to avoid using that particular F word ever since she'd discovered his betrayal.

"Good question," I said. "Did he ever talk about Michigan before? Like maybe there was something there he wanted to see? A tourist trap or an historical landmark." I was trying to remember anything I'd ever heard about Michigan other than the Great Lakes.

"Not that I recall." There was a pause. "Maybe something he and your father planned?"

Once upon a time, Alister and my father, Alexander Morgan, had been friends. They'd even been partners at the SRA, the Supernatural Regulatory Agency. But then Alister had turned on my father, and, if what I'd learned so far was true, had killed him. Then he'd lied to my mother about my father's death. For years I was told nothing but lies, and then I'd met my brother, Trevor, and my father's friend, Tommy Wahenaka, and I learned things that even now I found hard to believe. But it was possible that, back when they were friends, my father and Alister had talked about Michigan. Maybe even planned something. The question was why? What was in Michigan?

"I don't know. Maybe," I said. "Anything's possible. I'll have to ask my mother. Maybe she knows something."

"Good idea," Kabita said. She changed the subject. "What time does your flight get in?"

I relayed the question to Trevor. He glanced at me, then turned his eyes back to the road. It was already dark and there were no streetlights this far out. I winced as we hit another pothole and my elbow smacked against the car door. Trevor raised his voice so Kabita could hear him on the other end of the line. "We missed the last flight out of Vegas," he said. "We'll stay the night and fly back in the morning."

"Got it," Kabita said in my ear. "Just try and stay out of trouble, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

In the dark it took us nearly four hours to get back to Las Vegas. By the time we did, I was exhausted. I felt dirty and grody, and all I wanted was a hot bath and a long sleep. In that order. Oh, and some food if it wasn't too much trouble. I said good night to Trevor at the hotel room door, then called room service before stepping into the small bathroom to run a bath. The hotel had those fancy bath products in the tiny bottles, so I dumped in an entire bottle of "Tangerine Dream" bubble bath. Might as well smell good while I was at it.

Since it would be forty-five minutes before my food arrived (apparently they had to kill and pluck the chicken first), I shucked off my clothes and sank into the warm bubbly water. I leaned my head against the lip of the tub and closed my eyes. Images of the last few days flitted through my mind, but I ignored them. I needed to relax, not think about killing vampires or chasing after Alister Jones. As I relaxed I began to think about Inigo. I didn't understand what was going on with him. Oh, I knew it was the PTSD thing. If anyone understood PTSD, it was me. I'd nearly been killed by a vampire, after all. In fact, technically I
had
been killed. I still had nightmares about it. And yeah, I still hid things from the people I loved. I couldn't imagine explaining to my mother how I'd been dead. That would go over like a ton of bricks.

The point was, I'd found new people to help me through it. Kabita was one of them. Inigo was another. Was that what he was doing? Finding someone new to help him? Did he realize I understood what he was going through? That I'd been there? That I wanted to be there for him? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he wanted to be around someone who didn't get it. Someone normal. Not like me. It was hard to pretend you were normal if you spent any time in my world.

As I lay in the bath thinking about my boyfriend—or whatever he was now—I found myself becoming increasingly morose. There's nothing like the thought that your boyfriend is slowly dumping you for something over which you had no control to make a girl feel thoroughly depressed. I'd barely noticed the water growing colder by the minute. I was too wrapped up in thoughts of Inigo. Too busy being miserable. My gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Room service. My stomach rumbled as I started to clamber out of the bathtub and realized I was stuck. I couldn't move. The water around me had turned into a solid block of ice.

Chapter Seventeen

Thank gods for bathroom phones in good hotels. I snatched it off the wall and dialed Trevor's room even as my teeth began to chatter. When he picked up, he sounded half-asleep.

"You need to get a copy of my room key and get in here now," I snapped. I slammed the phone down without waiting for his response. Goose pimples had broken out pretty much everywhere, and I couldn't feel my legs.

I'd already turned on the hot water tap, but it wasn't cutting it. My body kept turning the water cool the minute it touched my skin. The ice simply wasn't melting fast enough, and the water level was already precariously close to spilling over the top of the tub. I had no choice but to turn off the taps.

Out of desperation, I grabbed the plastic shower curtain and yanked it from its hooks. It collapsed on me like it was going to smother the breath from my lungs. Panicked, I batted it away from my face and wrapped it around me as best I could. There was nothing I could do about the lower half of my body, currently encased in ice. I tried to call the Fire, but it was as if the powers inside me had gone to sleep. All I could do was wait.

At some point, the knocking on my door had stopped. Damn. There went my dinner plans. My stomach grumbled in protest.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard Trevor at the door. "Morgan?" he called.

"In the bathroom," I replied.

He stepped to the door, stopped, and stared. "What the hell?"

"Good question," I said, teeth chattering. "One m-minute I'm taking a bath, and the next my b-bathwater is frozen s-solid." I swished the curtain aside so he could see my legs in their ice block. It was like Han Solo on a really bad day.

"Call the Fire" he said, kneeling beside the tub.

"Y-you think I-I didn't try that?" I said testily. "Apparently, my powers have gone on vacation." Actually that didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe I needed a vacation.

"This isn't a joke, Morgan," he said. "Your legs could get frostbite and be seriously damaged. You could even die."

"Gee, thanks f-for the p-pep talk. You think I h-haven't thought of that? I'm u-up to my waist in ice and w-worried about a lot more than j-just my legs."

His cheeks turned pink.

Trevor reached out and took my hands. "Let's try something," he said. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and focus on the Fire."

Like I hadn't done that at least a dozen times since I called him. I scowled, but did as he said. I didn't see how him holding my hands could help, but I went ahead and gave it a try. As I focused I could almost feel the energy Trevor was pouring down through my hands. The Fire inside me stirred sluggishly. I pulled at it harder, willing it to do something to get me out of this situation. It didn't. Instead, it seemed to curl up like a cat preparing to go back to sleep.

"Focus, Morgan," Trevor ordered. "The Fire
must
obey you. It is yours to command. Make it obey you."

That was easier said than done, but I took the energy Trevor was pouring into me and reached down inside me. I grabbed the Fire around its virtual throat and practically yanked it out of me. In a rush, it came roaring out, screaming in anger as it went. Trevor scrambled back out of the way. The Fire wouldn't harm me, but it could burn Trevor to a crisp.

The Fire lapped hungrily at the ice, irritated the frozen water didn't burn. I tossed the shower curtain away before it could melt and crossed my arms over my chest. I was less worried about being naked and more worried about being cold. Slowly the ice began to steam, then melt, and finally turned back into a pool of water. As soon as my legs were free, Trevor yanked me from the tub. I collapsed on top the shower curtain, naked ass in the air, shivering. The Fire continued to dance along my skin, warming me from the inside out. Luckily it didn't seem to affect the shower curtain for all that it was made of plastic. I guessed it must be one of those fire retardant materials. Three cheers for OSHA.

Trevor handed me a big fluffy towel to wrap myself in, then sat next to me on the tile. He stared at me for a full minute. "Let me guess," he said. "You're channeling Water now."