Frost (11 page)

I was used to certain morning sounds—birds chirping or Dave singing in his off-key tenor in the shower. Instead, my morning preparations were set to the soundtrack of the dull, repetitive thump of someone's headboard against the other side of the wall.

The sounds of the hotel were not the least bit soothing. As if I hadn’t had enough to keep me awake last night, someone had been stomping around on the floor above, slamming doors. A screaming match had ensued somewhere over my room, a woman and a man with a deep baritone voice.

Out of all the craptastic hotels, I’d picked this one.

I sighed, my stomach roiling in protest as I shuffled to the bathroom. In the mirror, everything was still the same. My hair was still white, my eyes too blue. Part of me dreaded going to see Erik, but mostly, I needed to know what the hell was going on. I had to get answers today.

The stream of hot water felt good in spite of the hotel's lousy water pressure. I pressed my forehead against the slick wall and shut my eyes for a second, just breathing. When I finally stepped over the lip of the tub and into the steamy exterior of the bathroom, I felt slightly more human.

The thought made me roll my eyes, and I leaned forward to scrub the condensation on the mirror away, which did little but leave a trail of smears. Well, never mind makeup anyway. This wasn't a beauty contest. I was going to meet a frost giant for breakfast.

I groaned. Even the thought sounded ridiculous.

~ * ~

The sandwich shop looked bright and cozy from the outside. I pushed through the doors, ignoring the cheerful ringing of the overhead bell, darting a suspicious look at the customers.

No Erik yet. I slid into an empty booth at the back, pulling the knit cap low over my new, crystal-blue eyes. Keeping my back to the wall allowed me to keep the street in sight. The smell of bacon frying made my mouth water, and I promised myself a massive sub as soon as he got here.              

That reminded me of the couple of dates I’d had back home. I'd always picked at a salad, fearing I would look like a pig, or dribble on myself or something. Well, screw that. I was
hungry
. I planned to shove mouthfuls of sub into my face right in front of him. If he didn't like it, he could kiss my ass.

The bell jingled, and I looked up from under the hat.

There was Erik, his blue eyes scanning the shop. He was dressed in torn jeans and a teal-colored T-shirt. His brilliant, blond hair was tousled, and his sharp jaw bristled with the start of a beard. He’d probably look like some kind of Viking if he let it grow.

He spotted me, and his face lit up. Then he strode over and slid into the booth across from me. "Amora, I'm so glad you came. I wasn't sure if you would."

"I was debating not coming," I said. "Little spooked lately with all these nut cases chasing me."

The side of Erik’s mouth quirked, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. "I'm going to assume you're talking about Muspel."

“Loki, you mean? What's his deal?" A mix of fear and anger flared up inside me, and I held my breath, waiting for Erik to answer.

He rubbed a hand over his cheek, and his mouth twisted in a grimace. "The sons of Muspel sent him after you. They know you're valuable to us, and they'll stop at nothing to take everything from us. They hate us."

"So he...he really would have tried to kill me?" My voice sounded small.

His brow furrowed, but thankfully, he didn’t ask me how I knew that. I didn’t feel like telling the bed and breakfast story. It was embarrassing.

"I'm sorry, but it's likely." He shook his head, and the look of pity on his face made me grimace.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Loki got to you, didn't he? He made you trust him." His voice was gentle.

I nodded, feeling incredibly foolish.

"Don't blame yourself." Briefly, he rested his hand on mine, his fingers long and cool. "Loki is a trickster. He plays havoc with emotions. He can get anyone to trust him, and he does whatever he wants.
Takes
whatever he wants." His gaze was probing.

I sat up with a jolt of shock. "No! Oh my God, no. We didn't—I mean..." My cheeks burned as the memory replayed, the bed and breakfast—lying in bed with Loki, holding his hand, his arms around me as he showed me how to freeze the water in the basin. I felt my face grow even hotter.

"I'm sorry." Erik shifted in his seat. The tips of his ears were red. "Forgive me. I didn't mean—”

"It's fine," I said, too quickly.

There was silence while I worked up the courage to finally ask what I'd been meaning to. "I think something weird is happening to me."

He quirked a brow, and I took a deep breath. "My hair is getting lighter. It's white now..." I pulled the knit cap off, letting my bright hair fall around my shoulders.

To my surprise, Erik's grin grew wider.

"What?"

"Beautiful," he said.

I blushed bright red again, and he laughed. "Most of the other girls have pale-blond hair, but yours... Well, you almost look like a pure-blood."

I bit my lip, my brow furrowing. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

He seemed to pick up on the thought, because he blinked rapidly and then cleared his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just mean that most of the other half-human girls have blond hair. Yours has lost all pigment." He ran a hand over his own hair. "Like mine. That's normal for us."

"My eyes have gotten lighter too. Is that...normal? Am I turning full frost giant or something?"

Erik rubbed his chin, his eyes fixed on the far wall. "Jotun hit puberty late, and then all at once. As in…wake up one morning and this." He gestured at my hair. “But your human genes should be slowing that process down. It could be that your father's genes were simply more dominant than the other men who were sent out.”

That gave me pause. "Tell me about that."

"About the experiment?"

"Yeah. Loki only told me a little. I'd like to hear
you
explain it." I folded my arms over my chest. No doubt, his explanation would sound a little less "evil scientist" than the original version.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Queen Eira is very forward thinking. While some of us are opposed to relations with humans, she knows we have to be realistic. We're a dying breed. If we
don't
mingle with humans, we'll be gone in another thousand years or so."

"That still sounds like a long time."

"Not when you live for hundreds of years."

I choked on my water. "Wh-what?"

"Sorry." He ducked his head. "I shouldn't have sprung that on you. I just take it for granted."

I sputtered, wiping the corner of my mouth. "No kidding. You're serious though? How long will I live? How long do...I dunno,
hybrids
live?"

"Probably two hundred years or so. At least, that's been my experience." He tried to hide his smile. "It's true. I swear."

My mind was reeling. I would live to be
two hundred
? I would outlive regular humans.               Suddenly, I was seeing the sandwich shop through new eyes. Every one of these people would be dead—dust and bones—and I would still be alive. I would outlast the ten-year-old kid who was messily devouring a grilled cheese sandwich over in the corner. The curly-headed little girl dancing around her mother's legs.

Erik stayed quiet as I took it all in.

I whirled back around in my seat. "And this...this
thing
that happens. How I accidentally turn stuff to ice. Can it be controlled? I was upset last night and I froze the bathroom sink..."               Erik pressed his lips together and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"I'm glad you think it's
funny
."

"I'm sorry." He cleared his throat and attempted a straight face. "Really. Don't worry. If you come back to the palace with me, I can teach you everything about your powers. I can help you have full control of them."

It was tempting.

"I'll never accidentally freeze someone if you train me?" I asked.

When he nodded, relief flooded through me. That alone was incentive to go with him, but I still didn’t totally trust him. After the Loki mind tricks, I would have been stupid to start trusting blindly.

"This is going to take some time." I fidgeted with a strand of my newly lightened hair. "I...I'll want more information, and...I want to know more about what will happen before I go anywhere with you."

Erik shrugged. "Of course. It's the only smart thing to do. I know you must have more questions."

"Tons," I said. "I want to know more about your queen. What's she like? What does she look like?” At least that might help sort out my dreams. It couldn’t be the same person. My brain had to be making stuff up because of the stress. “Also, why am I with my uncle and aunt? Why couldn't I be with my real parents? I mean, at least my mom?"

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll meet the queen and see for yourself.” He frowned, expression thoughtful. "As for the other question, that's a tough one to answer. At first, the children
did
stay with their biological mothers, but there were...problems. The male jotun do not make good husbands to human women. Most of them simply returned to the palace after the duty was done, and that..." He hesitated.

"It pissed the women off." I settled back against the seat and crossed my arms over my chest again, shooting him a severe look. "And who the hell can blame them? They basically knocked the women up and then left them with kids."

"Yes," Erik said, still fidgeting. "So the queen changed the program."

"Yeah, they took the baby away instead, leaving the women with nothing." I scowled at him. "That's even worse."

He ran his fingers through his silver-white hair, eyes fixed on the tabletop. "I don't agree with the program, but the queen believes it’s necessary so we don't die out."

"Is it so hard for you jotun to reproduce?" I shifted in my seat. This conversation was weird and uncomfortable, but I had to ask these questions. They would drive me crazy if I didn't.

"Jotun women do not conceive easily—perhaps once every three or four hundred years—because we live so long. But now, we are at war. We're losing people, people we can't wait around to replace."