I fell into the snow, covering my head. The fireball landed on the car, and the wendigo ran for the trees. I dug into the snow, trying to burrow into the ditch on the other side of the street. The car creaked and groaned.
And then it blew up.
Twisted, burning metal and bits of upholstery on fire rained over the highway. The wendigo gave a scream of pain, racing deeper into the forest, toward the Blackwood estate. Snow sizzled, and acrid black smoke billowed into the cold air. I sat up, cold and wet, blisters on my hands, smoke in my throat. I took my phone out of my pocket with shaking fingers and dialed Ethan.
“I blew up your dad’s car.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ethan
I was running out of the house before Kia even hung up the phone. Snow slapped me in the face and fell down the back of my collar as I jumped into my car and raced down the lane, sliding sideways at the turns. Fire flickered at the end of the driveway. My heart stuttered painfully as I charged through the snow toward Kia. She was standing in the middle of the road, clutching her phone and watching the smoldering remains of the car. It belched black smoke and the occasional spark. I slid to a stop beside her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
There was blood on her cheek, and her hands were blistered. I turned her around, made her look at me. Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks pale under the scratches. “What happened?”
She glanced around before replying. “Wendigo.”
I exhaled on a curse. “Are you sure?” I knew she’d managed to push the panic aside when she shot me a sarcastic glare. I lifted my hands in surrender. “Had to ask.”
She pointed to the tracks in the snow on the other side of the street. “It went that way.” She shivered. “After it attacked me.”
“It attacked you?”
“Like it recognized me or something. I mean, it’s not like I was out wandering in its territory. I was in the car.” She shivered again, her teeth chattering. Her lips were faintly blue. “It just came at me.”
I frowned at the remains of the car scattered over the driveway, catching sight of something familiar. I crossed the melted snow, plucking a mangled bit of metal and wires with the cuff of my shirt. “This is a camera,” I said. My insides felt like the outside: ice, mangled metal, fire.
Kia crossed her arms for warmth, her fire depleted. “Your dad’s cars have security cameras? Overkill.”
“Not all the cars,” I corrected her. “Just yours.”
The blood drained from her face. “I drove that car to the warehouse parking lots to practice my fire skills,” she said as headlights pierced the smoky, snowy gloom. The catering van skidded into view.
“You hit a deer,” I told her fiercely before the others joined us.
“An exploding deer?” she pointed out.
“Shit. You hit a deer then drove into a tree.” I stopped at my car and took out a pair of gloves from the backseat, tossing them to her. “Put these on before you freeze.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?” Now that I knew she was okay, I had to follow the tracks, had to figure out where the bastard was hiding. I’d never been this close.
“Shit, Ethan. You can’t go alone.”
I tossed her a cocky grin. “Relax, sweetheart, this is what I’m trained for.”
She threw a snowball at my head. “Call me sweetheart again. I dare you.”
I was grinning despite myself as I ducked among the ice-touched boughs. The silence and darkness of the forest settled into my bones, like armor. I became my father’s son, just another Blackwood hunter, following marks and clues, scenting prey. I could hear the sirens of an approaching fire truck, the hiss of snow falling, my own heartbeat. None of it mattered. The only thing I cared about right then was the faint trail of blood drops, broken branches, and there, on my left—
Strands of long white hair caught on a peeling bit of bark.
I moved quietly, reaching for the knife in my boot. There were footprints, more broken cedars. And wind…cold, howling wind blasting though the very thin layer of my sweater. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t wearing a coat, or even boots. I’d left the house exactly as I was when I’d heard Kia’s voice on the line, gasping and stunned. The storm wasn’t going to blow over any time soon. I had to turn around.
Frustrated, I stomped back along the path I’d created, rubbing my hands together to keep my fingers warm. The monster had probably gone to ground, found some cave to hide in. And being a winter creature, this snow might make it stronger, whereas it could kill the rest of us if we were caught outside too long.
I could have sworn I heard my name, whispered among snowflakes.
I ground my teeth and refused to turn around. Summer was dead. And this wasn’t the first time I’d heard her voice. Grief made you see things and hear things that weren’t real. I forced myself to keep moving. I saw the glow of flashing lights and the arc of water from a fire truck hitting the remains of the car. Kia was wrapped in a blanket. Sara handed her a thermos of something hot.
I’d hunt again later. I didn’t know what the camera on Kia’s car had caught, if anything. But if my dad was remotely suspicious about her, or about the car fire, there’d be no shaking him.
Later, much later, I’d lay bait for the wendigo.
If it wanted human flesh and blood and bone, then that’s what I’d give it.
Me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kia
After the fire trucks and tow trucks left, I took a hot shower to warm up. I was still cold, as if there was no fire left in me. I’d assumed I had an endless amount, but apparently blowing up vehicles takes its toll on a girl. Abby would suspect my unlucky talent had helped along the fire. Insurance didn’t cover freak-granddaughter damages. I’d be delivering pastries until I died just to pay off vehicle debts.
Ethan was waiting for me in the kitchen. Everyone else had gone home. “Where’s Abby?” I asked him, going straight for the carafe of hot cocoa Sara had left on the counter.
“Justine’s parents have a unicorn,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but that sentence is ridiculous.”
He smiled faintly. “It’s the only creature kept off the premises. They have nearly as many acres as Dad, and the unicorn can be passed off as a horse with a birth defect.”
“And what? Abby is frolicking with a unicorn?”
“Not quite. It’s sick, and she’s doing the vet thing. Dad took her over. He likes to think of himself as an expert,” he added.
“Well, he kinda is.” I poured some of the hot cocoa into a second mug for Ethan. Maybe this was true love, to share my chocolate.
“He doesn’t know anything about fixing monsters,” Ethan pointed out.
“On the plus side, I have a few hours before I am tried and convicted and possibly executed for car cruelty.”
“Extra bonus, the storm will mean they’re stuck there overnight.” Ethan wrapped his hands around the mug and wandered out to the piano in the living room. He played something mournful, tragic.
“If you have time to be emo, then you have time to snoop,” I decided. I knew exactly what anger and guilt and self-pity did to your insides. It turned mine to fire, but I suspected it might turn him to ice. His jaw was too hard, his eyes cold.
His fingers stilled. “Sorry?”
“You heard me,” I said. “Your dad’s gone, right?” I waited for him to nod. “Well, then. Let’s go through his stuff.”
He half smiled, as if I was cute. “Kia, Dad has so many different security measures, he may as well be the president of a small country.”
“What happens if we get caught?”
“Nothing good.”
“Well, let’s not get caught then. Now, come on.”
“You’re already on his radar. He had you under surveillance. God knows what he saw.”
“I’m not afraid,” I insisted stubbornly, even though I was. A little bit.
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“You should be.”
I shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”
“And you’re not listening.”
“Well, we have to do something. A wendigo almost ate me. And your dad’s starting to give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Good,” Ethan said softly, closing the distance between us. He leaned in, sending shivers up my spine. “Stay here with me,” he whispered. He wasn’t kissing me, but I could feel the brush of his lips when he spoke.
I paused, fighting the pull of longing. “You’re totally trying to distract me.”
He smiled, soft and lazy. “Is it working?”
“Yes,” I said, brushing my lips over his. He sucked in his breath, his hands slipping around me. Two could play this game. Wait, no time for games. Damn it. “I mean, no!” It was as difficult to pull away from him as it had been to escape the wendigo. I swallowed, trying not to tingle all over. “You are dangerous.”
“I’m the safest thing in this house,” he drawled.
“Yeah, yeah,” I shot back, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. My knees still felt weak.
“We’ll never get through his booby traps, locks, and passwords,” Ethan protested. “Trust me.”
“Your dad hires a lot of people. Someone’s bound to have forgotten some little detail somewhere.”
He looked thoughtful. “You might be right.”
“So where do we start?”
We checked the basement, where Ethan showed me a room with computers and surveillance footage. If there was a recording of me setting fire to things at the abandoned factory, it wasn’t here. We checked his dad’s office door to be thorough, but it was locked, as expected, and the hall was lined with cameras. I gave one the finger because I couldn’t help myself.
We were running out of ideas when I stopped on the servant stairs so abruptly Ethan crashed into me. “Got it!”
He steadied me. “Got what exactly?”
“We’ll go through the garbage.” I beamed at him.
“Can’t wait,” he said drily. “You have weird ideas of what to do on a date,” he added when we were outside, popping open the lid of the garbage bins behind the eight-car garage. The smell was unpleasant but at least the worst of it was in the compost pile.
I slid him a glance. “Date?”
“You know what I mean.” His ears turned red. “Just dig.”
I poked around under the trees until I found a long branch. We used it to shove aside broken arrow shafts and the assorted detritus of kitchens, bathrooms, and bedrooms. In the movies, this sort of thing looked exciting. In reality it was smelly and boring and harder than it looked. “The important papers will have been shredded,” he said, hopping up to crouch on the wooden fence bordering the back of the building.
“What about this construction bin?” I asked, stretching up on the tip of my toes to peer inside. “It’s full of scrap metal and wood and stuff. Were they building something?”
He slid right into the bin, sawdust making dusty clouds around his boots. He dug roughly for a few minutes then stopped, leaning on the side. “Nothing,” he said. “Even the zoo garbage is clean.” He frowned when the end of a two-by-four slid and dislodged a roll of blue paper wedged behind it.
“What’s that?” I asked, craning my neck. “Blueprints?”
He nodded, flipping through them. “Sketches for new pens and enclosures. The troll nearly got out last month, so they improved his cage and built a new one.” The sketches showed a red bird with long tail feathers catching fire. “It’s from a Russian fairy tale,” Ethan said grimly. “It’s called a firebird.”
“I’ve seen it.”
“What? When?”
“In the castle. It landed on me.” I paused. “Your dad saved me.”
“My dad.” He paled. “He was testing you. The bird is attracted to fire.”
I stared at him.
“Those birds aren’t aggressive. And they don’t need fireproof iron and metal. That new cage,” he continued, stunned. “It’s meant for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kia
By the next morning, there was so much snow everywhere it almost hurt to look outside. The sky was faintly pink, the air clogged with ice and the trees furred with frost. Holden and Abby would be stuck at the Alamedas’ for at least another day. I thought about the drawing of the cage and packed a suitcase and my favorite graphic novels. I tried not to think about secret government testing facilities. I paced, I ate chocolate, and I paced some more. The day crawled by, slow as a cockroach caught in a honey trap.
I was worrying myself into a frenzy when I finally saw Ethan from my window. He was ducking into the pool house after some kind of patrol. I went down the back stairs and into the humid flower- and chlorine-choked air. There were orchids on the ledges and mosaics set into the floor. On the other side of the window, the world glowed like a pearl, even as the sun set. I rolled up my pants and sat next to Ethan, dangling my bare feet in the warm water.
“Thought I’d defrost,” he said. “It’s stupid cold outside.”
“Yeah, I hear that happens in a blizzard,” I returned. “That’s why normal people stay inside.”
“The snow’s on our side,” he said. “No one can get out and no one can get in.” He paused, sending me a sidelong glance. “You don’t have to worry,” he added quietly. “I won’t let him take you.”
“Do you hate him?” I asked, because what was the point of small talk? Not now when everything was closing in, jagged and treacherous.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. He used a remote control to turn on music, which flooded the room. I hadn’t even realized there were speakers hidden in a bank of ferns. They were shaped like rocks. He tapped his ear and mouthed security.
“I don’t know if I hate him,” Ethan finally admitted. “Maybe. He thinks he’s doing this awesome thing, you know? It’s like he watched too many Hercules movies and now the rest of us have to pay for it. Anyway, it’s better when he’s not here. Like I can breathe.”
“Sometimes I hate my mom. Okay, a lot of the time.” Even after what Abby had told me. Maybe it was unforgiving of me, but I didn’t think you should bail on your family. On the other hand, I could see how the fear of setting them all on fire one night might complicate things.
“You’re not like her,” he reminded me.
I touched his wrist, left my fingers there until he looked at me. “And you’re not like your dad.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “I can almost believe it when you say it.”
The contrast to the soft tropical cocoon of the pool house made everything feel even more surreal. Especially when Ethan took off his shirt and tossed it aside. Then he stood up and undid his jeans. I choked. “What are you doing?”
He grinned. “Going swimming.” He stripped down to his boxers and then winked at me. “Why? What do you think I’m doing?”
It was really hard not to stare. He was strong and sinewy and sculpted. The way the muscles in his arms moved was especially delicious. It made me want to bite them. Because I wasn’t weird enough. I tried to get my brain back on track, but it was like a dog off its leash. It wanted more. More muscles, more skin.
He turned and dove into the pool. Water splashed over the tiles. He surfaced, shaking hair off his face. “Are you coming in or what, Alcott?”
I knew a dare when I heard one.
“Don’t blame me if this thing turns into a soup pot.” I wriggled out of my jeans until I was in my underwear. I refused to remember that the last girl he’d been swimming with was probably Justine in a designer bikini and that my underwear didn’t match my bra. I jumped in before he could see that I was struggling not to blush. His shoulders gleamed, except for the white bandage taped under his collarbone and up around. I touched the edge of the tape lightly. “The manticore?”
He shrugged. “Manticore. Phooka. Wendigo. It’s been a hell of a week.”
I let my fingers trail over his rib
s, then up his arm. A girl could get used to muscles like that, especially now that I knew there was so much more to Ethan than a hot body and a fat bank account. We were nose to nose and I wasn’t sure which of us had moved, or if it was the currents of the water. Bare skin brushed bare skin. His pale hair fell over his forehead as he tilted his head. My lips tingled in anticipation.
A sound made us turn sharply away. I jumped, anger burning away the fear. The next person to interrupt us kissing was going to get flambéed.
And then something moved outside, scraping its fingernails against the glass. A bloody and blackened tongue licked ice off the window.
Ethan hauled himself out of the pool. He barely had his clothes on before he was out the door and into the blizzard. Cold air slapped at the humidity. “Ethan, you idiot.” I scrambled out of the pool as well, drying off with one of the towels in a stack on a lounge chair. My T-shirt twisted over my damp skin as I tried to get dressed as quickly as I could. “Ethan, come back! It’s trying to lure you out.”
Damn it, even I knew that, and I wasn’t Cabal. Snow pelted my eyelashes as I squinted through the storm.
“Ethan.”
I wasn’t the one calling him that time. It was someone else’s voice, scratchy and soft, like a cat’s tongue.
The wendigo.
“Oh, crap.” I hopped on one foot, desperately trying to get my shoes on. I could barely see through the snow. “What do I do? What do I do?” I hated to admit it, but it would be stupid for me to stumble blindly behind Ethan. And I couldn’t melt my way through the storm. “Where’s a werewolf when you need her?”
I couldn’t get Sloane in time, but I could get Tobias. I shot up the stairs, pounding on his door, my hair still dripping wet. He answered, yawning and bleary-eyed. “Why in the— Kia?”
“Ethan,” I panted. “Wendigo.”
He didn’t say a word, just went back into his room, pulled on some clothes, and grabbed a staff from behind his door. “Show me.”
We stopped by the closet for coats and boots and then I took him through the pool house and out into the snow. “Maybe you should stay here,” he suggested.