Deep Kiss of Winter (25 page)

“You let him touch you!”

“I did, and it was nice.
More
than nice!” she added the lie. “But maybe you're too drunk to notice that I was pulling away from him—because of you. I chose you, over a male I can touch! And now I see that I chose poorly. Luckily, I can rectify the situation.” She held up her crown, clenched in her fist. “I'm going to Icergard with him.”

Something in Murdoch seemed to snap. “No, Daniela, you're not.” He stalked closer to her. “You're going to stay with me—because you are
mine
.” Finally he was behaving like the domineering vampire. “My woman to possess, to kiss, to drink.” As he stared down at her, his irises were black as night and just as fathomless.

Wait . . . to drink?
“No, no. Don't, Murdoch!” But she was caught, mesmerized by the desire in his eyes. “Ah, gods . . .” When his gaze dropped to her neck, she knew he was going to do it.

So why am I not fighting him?

His gloved hands clamped her shoulders, squeezing them as he held her in place. His parted lips covered her neck, seeking . . . .

Just as she cried out, he groaned and bit down. She flailed, but he held her tight. Pain seared her skin, his fangs like two brands shoved into her neck, his tongue like a flame.

Murdoch fell upon her, pressing her into the wall as he sank his fangs deeper into the sweet flesh of her neck. The cold pained him, so badly he nearly released her, but soon blood wet his mouth. The taste . . . He growled against her, the pleasure was so intense.

Finally, she's in my arms. At last, I can hold her, taste her.

Couldn't believe he was doing this, needed to pull away.
I'm taking too much.

He could
feel
her cries against him. When she screamed, he somehow released her, stumbling back. “Oh, God, Daniela!” He stared in horror at her ravaged neck, her tender skin burned.

As she backed away from him, her silver eyes welled with tears. “How could you, Murdoch?” Her pupils were huge with shock. “You
vowed
to me.”

Between heaving breaths, he rasped, “Daniela, I don't know what happened.”

“You lost control. And you'll do it again.”

He wanted to deny it.
Christ help me, I can't.
His expression must have betrayed his thoughts.

Her tears spilled, her face paler from blood loss. “Now you're the second man who's touched me against my will.” Her words were growing weaker, indistinct.

He grated in confusion, “The second?”

“I'm leaving, and I never want to see your face again as long as I live.”

Jádian rushed into the lodge then, his watchful gaze taking in the scene. “You
bit
her?” He looked at Murdoch like he was scum, like he was a monster. “I will slaughter you for harming my queen.”

“N-no,” Daniela said through her tears, tugging on his arm. “I just want to go.”

Go, with that male, away from Murdoch. Forever. “Don't you leave me!” he bellowed.

In answer, she put the back of her hand against her mouth and sobbed. Unsteady, crying freely, Daniela turned to the door without a glance back. When Murdoch charged after her, Jádian stood in his way. Murdoch tensed, about to attack him once more—

Daniela's legs gave way, her body crumpling. In a flash, Jádian swung around and caught her up against him. “Queen Daniela?” Then his eyes narrowed. “Blood loss.”

“Give her to me,” Murdoch grated with outstretched hands, “or I'll kill you so slowly.”

“So you can drain more of her?” Jádian shifted
Daniela into one arm; with his other, he hurled a handful of ice at Murdoch.

The hit connected with his chest like a freight train, sending Murdoch crashing into a wall. His skin began to freeze, trapping him in place.

He thrashed to break free, but the ice was too strong. “Don't you dare take her! She can't see that this is a trick—”

With Daniela still in his arms, Jádian loomed over Murdoch. “There is no trick. I've eliminated any threat against her. Her sister even told me how to find her, because she wants Daniela to be with her own kind.”

“Then where the fuck were you for the last two thousand years?”

Jádian didn't answer the question, just said, “I will leave you alive, but only because that was her will.”

“Give her time to wake, so I can talk to her—”

“You believe you can convince her to stay with you? You attacked her. Look at her neck.
Remember
this sight. This is what you are to her—pain.”

“No . . . no . . .”

“I'm taking her to where she can be content, vampire. Where she will be safe.”

“Like her mother?”

“Her mother didn't have
me
to protect her.” With a wave of the male's hand, the ice began to build up over Murdoch's torso, crushing him. Higher and higher, climbing up over his chin.

Powerless to do more than watch them leave,
Murdoch had time for a last breath—and used it to bellow her name. But they were already gone.

Ice swallowed him, cutting off his air. Soon blackness followed. And in that time, he dreamed Daniela's memories, taken from her blood.

Unable to wake, his clenched fists frozen, Murdoch watched as a Roman senator took her from a cage so he could run his fingertips over her delicate skin, fascinated by how it burned.

Murdoch
felt
her pain, her revulsion.

How long she'd been trapped in that hell, he couldn't determine. But he experienced her relief when Myst—the female Murdoch had hated for so long—and two other sisters had come for her. Myst had saved her life and murdered the Roman.

Why had Daniela never told Murdoch about any of this? About being a captive? Rage consumed him for the long-dead Roman who'd tortured her.

And yet Murdoch had hurt her just as badly, if not worse. After all, she'd trusted him.

Daniela thinks of me as she does that monster.

And she should.
The look in her eyes when I released her neck . . . .

When the ice had melted enough to be broken and he regained consciousness, his driving need to go after her was extinguished.

Who the hell was he to take her away from her fate? From her own kind?

Her whole life had been made better, fixed. Part of him still wanted to believe that she'd been tricked, that she would need him to save her . . . but the disgust
shown by Jádian had been real. And he could easily have killed Murdoch.

As much as it enraged him to recall how Jádian had kissed Daniela, Murdoch knew they looked right together.

She's gone.

For hours, he mindlessly roamed the too-quiet lodge, cursing bitterly, ignoring his brothers' calls. Even as Daniela's blood still thrummed in his veins, his chest felt empty, aching for her.

I've lost her.
The look in her eyes . . .

Murdoch punched the wall. The pain briefly diverted his attention from the hollowness in his chest.

So this is love.

He'd lost the one woman he'd ever loved. No, not
lost
. He'd driven her away with his selfishness and neglect. With his broken vows and attack.

Now that he could think about the night with a clearer head, he remembered that she
had
been pulling away from Jádian.
Because of me.

Murdoch had never understood Conrad's madness. Now he did. There were some things the mind was not made to handle, differing in each person.

I'm not made to live without Daniela.

The phone rang yet again. There'd been talk of an upcoming battle. Maybe that was exactly what Murdoch needed. To fight. To be a vampire. To kill and destroy and not think about how Daniela would be happier away from him.

He answered the phone.

“We go to war,” Nikolai said.

Perfect.

S
o this is Icergard,
Danii thought as Jádian gave her the grand tour of the castle the next day.
I'm definitely getting a Fortress of Solitude vibe.

When she'd awakened, sharp-eared Icere maids had smiled shyly as they laid out a gown of the softest silk Danii had ever imagined, along with Svana's crown.

A fire had burned in a hearth of ice—a blue fire that emanated
cold
.

Which was just
cool.

Last night, it had been late here when Jádian had sneaked her into her new royal chambers. He'd thought it “politically unwise” for the Icere to see their new queen's face wet from tears, her body lifeless, with her neck bearing the unmistakable mark of a vampire.

“As in most factions of the Lore, vampires are feared and hated here,” he'd explained.

Without wonder. She still couldn't believe that Murdoch had bitten her. “What did you do to him?” she'd asked.

“I left him in ice. I would have killed him, but you ordered me not to fight.”

“And you follow my orders?”

“You're my queen,” he'd said simply. “One who'll be crowned in three days, if that's acceptable to you.”

“It is. But what are the Icere going to think of me?”

“They're going to love you as they did your mother . . . .”

Now, as he showed her around, she tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but her mind was troubled over the events of the night. Murdoch's bite had been the worst pain she'd ever experienced, and yet she'd felt some kind of connection to him.

He'd taken her blood, lots of it. Would he dream her memories? At the idea, embarrassment suffused her. Would he know how lonely she'd been?

Gradually, her neck had healed, but she was still uneasy, fretful. Guilt weighed on her. She didn't believe she'd brought on the attack—or that she'd deserved it in any way. But she still felt complicity, because she hadn't repelled him.

She could have frozen Murdoch, could have blasted him with the fury of that blizzard. Instead, a fatalism had swept over her, as if she'd been
waiting forever
for his bite.

Myst had taken pleasure from it, as had Kaderin. It'd been a nightmare for Daniela—

“Do you regret coming here?” Jádian asked, rousing her from her thoughts. He was gazing straight
ahead, his face impassive, but she could sense his tension.

“No, not at all.”

“You are quiet.”

“Uh, I'm just amazed by what I'm seeing.” In truth, Castle Icergard was an engineering marvel. Built beneath an invisible dome of ice, the structure was bricked with baguette-cut diamonds—each half a foot long. The prisms at the ends of the diamonds glinted unrelentingly, like a Valkyrie's worst nightmare.
Good thing I'm immune.
“It's remarkable,” she added.

“It's . . . home,” Jádian said simply.

Inside the castle, elaborate designs were carved into all the walls, with smaller diamonds embedded throughout. Thin sheets of polished and etched ice comprised the windows. Chandeliers of ice hung from the great-hall ceiling, their lights that cold blue fire, shimmering like the aurora borealis dancing in the night sky.

The more Danii saw, the more she loved it here.
Ice, ice, and would you like some ice with that ice?
Here, plants grew from it. The people held it sacred, just as other cultures worshipped the sun or the earth as life-giving.

Earlier, any of the Icere they'd come upon had been reserved, but as word got around that Danii was personable, more approached her.

A female even asked her to bless her baby girl. Danii swallowed nervously as she gathered the babe in her arms. She'd never in her life held one.

The mother said, “Welcome home, Queen Daniela.”

As Danii traced the backs of her fingers over the baby's soft cheek, tears welled.

This is where I belong
. Where she'd always belonged.

I
am
home.

•   •   •

The cell door slammed behind Murdoch, Nikolai, and Sebastian.

“We're screwed,” Sebastian muttered.

Murdoch did not disagree.

When the three had shown up at Mount Oblak ready to go to war, the king's guards had instead forced them into a barred suite.

These chambers were used for political prisoners. Here were facilities, a shower. Yet no one could trace inside or out, and the walls and door were mystically reinforced.

Luckily, the three brothers hadn't been taken to the dungeons below, filled with Ivo's old torture devices. But then, Kristoff had made it clear he had no intention of torturing them.

Or freeing them—until they gave up Conrad. Which they would never do.

How long would the king keep them here? Weeks? Or more? At the thought of a protracted imprisonment, Murdoch swore under his breath. Though he had decided not to go after Daniela, his resolve hadn't lasted long. No matter what, he was deeply ashamed of hurting her, and wouldn't rest until he'd apologized to her.

Now he paced, barely listening to his brothers.

“We knew this might happen,” Nikolai said. “A one-in-a-thousand chance.”

“How did Kristoff find out?” Sebastian snapped.

“He has ways.”

“Ways? As in Lukyan or some other Russian,” Sebastian said. “When I find out who informed on us—”

“You'll do what?” Nikolai demanded. “We're the ones at fault here.
We
broke the law.”

“But how can Kristoff expect us to give up our own brother?” Sebastian shook his head. “Conrad would be powerless against his men, unable to defend himself, unable to escape.”

“We might as well swing the swords ourselves,” Nikolai agreed. “But if we think Myst and Kaderin are going to just sit around and accept our capture, we're deluded.”