Iced
Page 40
But there he is, in graphic detail because I know exactly what he looks like naked, I saw him. I know how his body moves. Hes got a lot of muscle. Scars, too. I know that when he has sex he laughs like the world is a perfect place. And when he did that, my hands curled into fists because I thought about touching his face like maybe I could catch joy in my hands and hold it. I had all kinds of fecking strange and stupid thoughts standing there on level four. I could so kick the shit out of myself for watching. I dont get hormones. I dont understand why the horny little buggers would even notice an old dude like him.
You coming?
I shake myself mentally, pick up and shift sideways.
Nothing happens.
Youve got to be kidding me, I mutter.
Kid, why are you still standing there? Hes freeze-framing around the frozen trio. It could blow any second.
I dont move, thinking how much I hope it will, so he wont figure out Ive lost my superpowers again.
I have to, uh, use the, uh I gesture to the woods behind me. Need a little privacy. Be right back.
Just like I hoped, while Im in the shrubbery, pretending to pee, the laundry people blow.
The ride back to Dublin is a long and silent one.
THIRTEEN
The very worst part of you is me
Im on the roof of a building, across the street from the pile of concrete, twisted metal, and broken glass that once was Chesters. The club is deep underground now. Usually theres a line for blocks, but its four in the morning and everyone who wanted to be inside got inside about an hour ago. I guess that means enough people died to open up additional standing room because I didnt see anyone come out.
A black Humvee pulls up.
Its what Ive been waiting for.
I used to hate being up high, which is ironic, considering Im a Highlander. Or I was.
Im getting used to heights. The views better. You see more and you might as well be invisible. People dont look up much, not even in times like these, when they should because you never know whats in the sky above you, getting ready to feed on you, maybe a Hunter, or a Shade. Or me.
I watch her get out of the Humvee. Shes bouncing from foot to foot between steps, moving sideways and forward at the same time, eating a candy bar. Ive never seen anyone with so much energy. Her hair is auburn fire in the moonlight. Her skin is luminous. She has sweet young curves and long legs. Her features are bone china fine, and expressions rush across her skin like my new Unseelie tattoos rush beneath mine.
But its the heart of the girl that gets me.
Hes big and towers over her. Hard face. Hard body. Hard walk. They look so wrong together. Theyretalking. She keeps looking up at him like he gets on her last nerve. Good. Her hand hovers near the hilt of her sword and I know what shes thinking. She despises Chesters. She can barely stand to be in the same place with Fae without killing them. She hates them. All of them.
Its a category that will soon include me.
The owner of Chesters looks up.
Im deep in shadows on the roof, throwing a light glamour, a new power Ive been testing, trying to make my face more palatable to her.
I focus on projecting a general blanket of night and emptiness so he cant see me.
His gaze stops right where I am and he gets a smug-ass look on his face, but thats his look most of the time. Ive nearly decided that while he might sense a disturbance in the night up here, he cant actually see me when he inclines his head in that arrogant, imperial way so characteristic of the dickhead.
Rage washes over me, thick and intense and smothering, and for a few seconds I drift in a black place where everythings icy and wasted and evil and I like it. Im glad Im going Unseelie prince. I say bring on the power.
I say let there be war.
I throw back my head and slide a mane of hair over my shoulders. Cutting it doesnt do a bloody thing. I sleep, I wake up, its there again. I turn my face up to the moon and inhale greedily. I want to drop to all fours and bay like a wild thing drunk on being hungry and strong, a beast that could fuck for days without cease if I could only find something that could take it as hard and long as I can give it. I want to chime to the moon in Unseelie, and hear it chime back. I can smell death in the city, everywhere, and its intoxicating. I can smell need and sex and hunger and its so bloody sweethumanity ripe for the plucking and playing and eating! I shift my dick in my jeans. Its painfully hard. And the Earth is round.
I look back down, my eyes narrow. My boots are crusted with ice. The roof has gone white in a circle of snow and glittering ice in a fifteen-foot radius around me. I lope lightly along the edge of the roof, crunching snow, following as they go around back. This is going to be so much easier when I dont have to use my feet.
He isnt what hes pretending to be with her.
I watch him all the time. Im going to be there when he stops pretending. Im going to be her bulletproof vest, her shield, her fallen fucking angel whether she wants one or not. Hes pretending hes almost human. Hes no more human than me. Hes pretending to be nice, like hes safe to be around, like he doesnt have fangs for a reason. Hes pretending the term the Gavel Effect wasnt coined about him, meaning youre fine with him. Right up until youre not.
You coming?
I shake myself mentally, pick up and shift sideways.
Nothing happens.
Youve got to be kidding me, I mutter.
Kid, why are you still standing there? Hes freeze-framing around the frozen trio. It could blow any second.
I dont move, thinking how much I hope it will, so he wont figure out Ive lost my superpowers again.
I have to, uh, use the, uh I gesture to the woods behind me. Need a little privacy. Be right back.
Just like I hoped, while Im in the shrubbery, pretending to pee, the laundry people blow.
The ride back to Dublin is a long and silent one.
THIRTEEN
The very worst part of you is me
Im on the roof of a building, across the street from the pile of concrete, twisted metal, and broken glass that once was Chesters. The club is deep underground now. Usually theres a line for blocks, but its four in the morning and everyone who wanted to be inside got inside about an hour ago. I guess that means enough people died to open up additional standing room because I didnt see anyone come out.
A black Humvee pulls up.
Its what Ive been waiting for.
I used to hate being up high, which is ironic, considering Im a Highlander. Or I was.
Im getting used to heights. The views better. You see more and you might as well be invisible. People dont look up much, not even in times like these, when they should because you never know whats in the sky above you, getting ready to feed on you, maybe a Hunter, or a Shade. Or me.
I watch her get out of the Humvee. Shes bouncing from foot to foot between steps, moving sideways and forward at the same time, eating a candy bar. Ive never seen anyone with so much energy. Her hair is auburn fire in the moonlight. Her skin is luminous. She has sweet young curves and long legs. Her features are bone china fine, and expressions rush across her skin like my new Unseelie tattoos rush beneath mine.
But its the heart of the girl that gets me.
Hes big and towers over her. Hard face. Hard body. Hard walk. They look so wrong together. Theyretalking. She keeps looking up at him like he gets on her last nerve. Good. Her hand hovers near the hilt of her sword and I know what shes thinking. She despises Chesters. She can barely stand to be in the same place with Fae without killing them. She hates them. All of them.
Its a category that will soon include me.
The owner of Chesters looks up.
Im deep in shadows on the roof, throwing a light glamour, a new power Ive been testing, trying to make my face more palatable to her.
I focus on projecting a general blanket of night and emptiness so he cant see me.
His gaze stops right where I am and he gets a smug-ass look on his face, but thats his look most of the time. Ive nearly decided that while he might sense a disturbance in the night up here, he cant actually see me when he inclines his head in that arrogant, imperial way so characteristic of the dickhead.
Rage washes over me, thick and intense and smothering, and for a few seconds I drift in a black place where everythings icy and wasted and evil and I like it. Im glad Im going Unseelie prince. I say bring on the power.
I say let there be war.
I throw back my head and slide a mane of hair over my shoulders. Cutting it doesnt do a bloody thing. I sleep, I wake up, its there again. I turn my face up to the moon and inhale greedily. I want to drop to all fours and bay like a wild thing drunk on being hungry and strong, a beast that could fuck for days without cease if I could only find something that could take it as hard and long as I can give it. I want to chime to the moon in Unseelie, and hear it chime back. I can smell death in the city, everywhere, and its intoxicating. I can smell need and sex and hunger and its so bloody sweethumanity ripe for the plucking and playing and eating! I shift my dick in my jeans. Its painfully hard. And the Earth is round.
I look back down, my eyes narrow. My boots are crusted with ice. The roof has gone white in a circle of snow and glittering ice in a fifteen-foot radius around me. I lope lightly along the edge of the roof, crunching snow, following as they go around back. This is going to be so much easier when I dont have to use my feet.
He isnt what hes pretending to be with her.
I watch him all the time. Im going to be there when he stops pretending. Im going to be her bulletproof vest, her shield, her fallen fucking angel whether she wants one or not. Hes pretending hes almost human. Hes no more human than me. Hes pretending to be nice, like hes safe to be around, like he doesnt have fangs for a reason. Hes pretending the term the Gavel Effect wasnt coined about him, meaning youre fine with him. Right up until youre not.
