Kissed by Ice (24 page)

BOOK: Kissed by Ice

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"I know you do," he said. "And that's what makes this so hard. I should be able to turn to you. But I can't. I feel like… I feel like I need to discover who I really am now. I don't feel the same anymore. And I need to know what's different and how I can deal with that."

I nodded slowly. "I understand. So, what does that mean?" It felt like a thousand knives where jammed into my ribcage. I couldn't believe how much this hurt.

"I think I need to go back to Scotland. Back to my people. I think they can help me. I need to spend time with them. Spend time alone. Get my head on straight."

I didn't ask him how long he thought that would take. He wouldn't know. I also didn't ask what that meant for us. There was no point. How could he answer without hurting us both? So I did the only thing I could. I reached across the table and took his hand in mine.

"Take all the time you need," I said, wishing I could mean it and hoping he thought I did. "I'll be waiting here when you get back."
If you get back.
But I didn't say that part out loud. I didn't have to. He was thinking the same thing.

# # #

I spent the next two weeks eyeball-deep in vampire blood. Hunting seemed to be the only thing I could control these days, so I dove in with a vengeance. The vampires of Portland must have been shaking in their boots.

As for me, it was a wonder I was still on my feet. I hadn't been sleeping much, and my eyes were bloodshot with dark bags underneath. I looked like I'd been on a two-week bender. I was exhausted, but I couldn't rest. Resting meant thinking, and thinking meant dwelling on Inigo. And that was a slippery slope to madness.

I pulled myself out of bed and staggered to the shower. Another sleepless day. Might as well get up and hunt, although the vamps were scarce these days. I guess word had gotten out that the Hunter was on a rampage. It would have been funny if it weren't so damn depressing.

I stepped beneath the spray of the shower, hoping the cool temperature would wake me up. It didn't. Even the delicious aroma of my rose-scented Champney's shower gel, imported from England, didn't make me feel any better.

I was toweling off when my cell phone rang. Kabita. Wrapping the fluffy bath sheet around me and a towel around my wet hair, I answered the phone. "Yeah?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"No," I said. "I'm headed to the kitchen for coffee." I proceeded to do just that. I tossed coffee grounds into the filter and filled the reservoir with water before pushing the "on" button. These days, coffee was the only thing that kept me going. Pots and pots of the stuff.

"You might want to sit down."

"Kabita, just spill it," I snapped. I was tired of this beating around the bush. Why couldn't she just get to it? Tell me what horrible thing had happened and let me get on with the job?

"I just got word from the SRA."

I almost collapsed on the floor with relief. It wasn't about Inigo, thank the gods. I figured that right now, not hearing from him was the best news ever. The longer we didn't talk, the longer I could put off facing the inevitable: him breaking up with me.

"What did the SRA have to say?" I asked as I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and threw in sugar and cream. "Are they bitching about our expenses again?"

"It's the Queen."

"Elizabeth?" Hey, I hadn't had my coffee yet.

Kabita snorted. "Not that queen."

"Morgana?" What the hell was the Sidhe Queen up to now?

"She's declared war on the djinn."

"So what else is new?" Morgana had declared war on the djinn months ago. So far, nothing had happened. I figured it was an empty threat. The Queen had a flair for the dramatic.

"No, you don't understand," Kabita said. "A few hours ago, the Queen's troops attacked the djinn on their lands. Sidhe warriors slaughtered over one hundred djinn."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. I didn't even hear my spoon hit the floor. My worst nightmare had finally come true.

We were at war.

A Note from the Author

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About Shéa MacLeod

Shéa MacLeod is the author of urban fantasy post-apocalyptic scifi paranormal romances with a twist of steampunk. She has dreamed of writing novels since before she could hold a crayon. She totally blames her mother.

After a six year sojourn in London, England, a dearth of good donuts has driven her back to her hometown. She now resides in the leafy green hills outside Portland, Oregon where she indulges in her fondness for strong coffee, Ancient Aliens reruns, lemon curd, and dragons.

Because everything's better with dragons.

Other books by Shéa MacLeod

Sunwalker Saga

Soulshifter:A Sunwalker Saga Spinoff

Fearless

Haunted

Soulshifter

Dragon Wars