Deep Kiss of Winter (30 page)

He pulled back to meet her gaze, dread drumming in his chest.

“They'll never accept you,” she said. “Not after what happened to my mother. They'll reason that if Sigmund could turn against his own queen, then a vampire surely could . . . and they were punished by Sigmund, every day.”

“Daniela, you told me you were
mine
. I warned you I'd never let you go. But I won't ask you to give up your crown.”

She grew still. “You won't?”

“No, but just as before, we'll have to find a way to be together, because you can't ask me to give you up either.”

She seemed pleased by his answer. Had she expected him to demand she relinquish her throne? The old, selfish Murdoch would have. He would have believed it was her honor to be with him. Now he knew it was the other way around.

“Explain to me exactly what Nïx told you,” Daniela said.

He scowled. “Still planning on marrying Jádian?”

“Murdoch!” She play-punched his arm, then seemed to get briefly distracted by the feel of his skin. “Now tell me.”

So he did . . .

When he'd finished, she said, “You know, I
didn't need a soothsayer to convince me that you'd be true.”

He gave a decisive nod. “My thoughts exactly.”

“And I have an idea,” she said. “A way we could be together—and do only as we please.”

•   •   •

“No, no,” Murdoch grated. “Not a chance. I can't let you do this for me. Daniela, I saw your memories. Your mother wanted this for you.”

Danii shook her head firmly. “I think she'd want me to be happy. And this is the only way. Murdoch, if you saw my memories, did you not feel how long I've waited to be happy? A lonely life of service will
not
be forthcoming from me.”

“I did feel it. But don't you even want to think about—”

“I have been thinking about this,” she said, meeting his gaze. “And it's what I choose.”

After long moments, he said, “I'm with you, Daniela. Whatever you want, I'll support you.”

“Then let's get some clothes on, because what I want is to get this settled as soon as possible.”

Once they'd dressed, she called for Jádian. When he arrived, she wasted no time. “I'm abdicating, and I want you to take over the throne. I'd like you to be king of the Icere.”

Instead of jumping at the chance, Jádian almost seemed put out and kept glancing at the door.

Danii said, “You don't appear too happy about this.”

“I had . . . other plans, once you got established
here,” Jádian replied. “But I'll do my duty, if this is your will.”

Jádian the Buzz Kill, all duty, no fun. “Yes, it is. But I have a few conditions. I want to visit whenever I like, come around for holidays and such, once I get the cryomancy down. And the Icere must always ally with the Valkyrie.”

“Agreed. But I have some conditions as well,” Jádian said. “If I die with no heir, you'll resume the throne. And you'll take with you your mother's crown.”

“But it belongs here—it belongs to your future queen.”

“I'll never take a
wife
to wear it.”

Still waters run deep with the Iceren?
“Then I can agree to that.”

Jádian nodded to them, then strode to the door. As he left, she thought she heard him mutter a curse, demonstrating the most emotion she'd ever observed.

When they were alone, Murdoch pulled her back into his lap. “I think Jádian was a shade shocked at your offer.”

“Well, Nïx did say that I would make him my king—so I did.” Danii smiled brightly. “Now it seems I'm a woman of leisure.”

Murdoch nipped the tip of her ticklish ear, making her laugh. “Good. Then you can take a day to marry me.”

Christmas Eve

Blachmount Manor

The Wroth family—four couples brought together by the Accession, and in some cases by Nïx—had gathered to celebrate Murdoch and Daniela's marriage, the holidays, and the renovation of Blachmount.

Myst and Nikolai had completely restored the manor, and now it was lavishly decorated for the festivities.

While the brothers drank whiskey, the females gathered around an enormous table laden with food and drinks. But Myst and Néomi were the only ones with plates.
Myst eating?
There went the Valkyrie's inherent birth control.

Danii raised her brows, but Myst only shrugged. “What can I say? Nikolai's big on family. And I felt sorry for my poor biological clock, having to tick for millennia.”

Kaderin received a questioning glance as well, but she held up her hands. “Don't look at me. I've got shite to do and no pity for clocks . . . .”

When they convened by the fire to exchange gifts, naturally Danii and Murdoch took the chilly settee farthest away from the heat.

Murdoch gazed around again, still seeming stunned by the changes. “It looks just like home used to.”

Nikolai took Myst's hand in his. “She wanted to keep it as close as possible to what I remembered,” he said, looking like he was about to explode, he was so proud and satisfied.

All of the brothers gave that impression. Even Conrad, with his flame-red eyes. He was doing so well, seeming more of an eccentric than the madman Danii had expected, but he did appear to occasionally get lost in memory. Whenever he did, his new wife, Néomi, was there, gently tugging him back to the present.

Danii had liked Néomi immediately, though she was a bit puzzled about how the ballet dancer had gone from ghost to human to the more powerful phantom. Now Néomi was telekinetic, with the ability to become incorporeal and vanish at will.

Néomi wasn't spilling the details—even though she was visibly tipsy, speaking in a mix of her native French and English.
“Merry Noelle!”

The atmosphere was cozy and domestic, and Danii relaxed, enjoying herself, savoring the time spent with her sisters and siblings-in-law. Murdoch drew Danii even closer into the chill of his arms until she all but sat on his lap. He rubbed his big, cold palm up and down her arm. With his other hand, he held hers.

Constant contact.
Over the last few weeks, he'd barely kept his hands off her. She soaked up his affection as she would frost.

After Jádian's reluctant coronation, Danii and Murdoch had been married in a simple Lore ceremony. He'd been Catholic, and she was a pagan. Simple was best.

Since then, Danii hadn't had time for fantasies anymore. Her husband had proved deliciously insatiable. Each sunset, he would ease into her, waking her that way, drawing just enough blood to keep him cold. Though she always wanted him to drink more.

He'd taken the icy changes in himself in stride. And if she'd expected his brothers to be disappointed with this development, she would've been wrong. They'd easily accepted Murdoch's decision.

With much fanfare, the family began exchanging gifts. Murdoch had bought her an extravagant case to hold Svana's crown—and an emerald comb to replace the one that Néomi had admitted to stealing right out of his pocket at Elancourt.

Danii gifted him with her own creation: an intricately carved ring of ice for his forefinger, to wear as a type of cold monitor, until he got accustomed to his transformation. They didn't know if he could overheat, and she never wanted to find out.

Yet every present was upstaged by Sebastian and Kaderin's gift to the family. Thrane's Key.

At the sight of it, Danii stifled a shiver. She'd heard that the key didn't always do as one hoped,
and it didn't always go back to the exact time one wished.

But Murdoch had such hopes of being reunited with his family. He'd told her his father would be so proud to see that Murdoch had given his heart completely.

She shook away her apprehension. This family was so formidable, fate should yield to it.

“We go back at the beginning of the new year?” Sebastian asked, wrapping his arm around Kaderin's shoulders. Danii curbed a smile when fierce Kaderin melted against him, half-lidded with happiness, all but purring. Danii made a mental note to razz her about that later.

“Yes, it's time,” Nikolai said. “We've all gotten settled.”

Conrad's red eyes grew blank, his fists balling as he went awash in a memory. But Néomi tenderly cupped the side of his face, tugging him back into the conversation.

“Néomi?”
he rasped in confusion.

She smiled lovingly, with infinite patience.
“Écoute-le, mon coeur.”

He gave her a nod, his red gaze filled with what could only be described as adoration.

“Are you ready to go back for your sisters?” Néomi asked him.

Conrad faced the others with a decisive nod. “I'm ready.”

“Are we all agreed about this?” Nikolai asked. “I am most concerned about how the girls will do.
They were so young, and they'll be thrust into not only a completely different world of beings, but a completely different time.”

Kaderin said, “My sisters are managing well—aside from the occasional slain toaster—and they were premedieval.”

Myst said, “And look at how fabulous the girls' aunts will be with them. I can instruct them in high fashion, and Néomi can teach them to dance.”

“Bien sûr.”
Néomi nodded. “And I can go invisible and follow them to school, watching over them.”

Kaderin said, “I can teach them how to fight.”

“What can I teach them?” Daniela asked quietly.

Myst answered, “How to get exactly what they want when the odds are stacked against them. Oh, and how to reform rakes.”

“
Rake
. Singular,” Murdoch grated with a possessive squeeze of her knee, making them laugh.

The talk turned to reminiscing, and though Danii wanted to learn more about Murdoch's family, the fire was blazing.

The instant she even perceived being uncomfortable, Murdoch seized her hand, leading her to the balcony. He told the others, “We're going out for some cold air.”

Outside, she said, “Thank you. It was getting warm.”

He took her into his arms to give her some of his coolness, pressing her face into his chest. “For me, too, love.”

“Doesn't it bother you?” she asked him. “Not to be able to sit with them around the fire?”

She gazed back at the scene, the family laughing around a hearth, holiday decorations glittering in the firelight. A Hallmark card. Except that a phantom, Valkyries, and vampires populated the portrait.

“Sitting around the fire, versus making love to my wife as soon as we can possibly ditch?” Cradling her face in his palms, he kissed her forehead, her lashes, the tip of her nose, and a corner of her lips. “Danii, I've never been more satisfied with my life, didn't know I could be.”

Between his light kisses, she felt snow beginning to fall. She raised her face in delight, laughing softly.

When her gaze met his once more, his eyes had darkened to black. “I can't get enough of you, Valkyrie.”

Her hands slipped up his chest to meet at his nape. “Then kiss me, vampire.”
And don't ever stop. . . .

Gena Showalter

To Kresley Cole and Lauren McKenna—a true dream team. Kresley, I met you years ago, drooled all over you (which is an ongoing problem), now send you way too many pictures of myself, and won't let you get off the phone until I've talked so much your ears are practically bleeding. You're welcome, my sweet! And of course, no dedication would be complete without saying thank you to the incomparable Jill Monroe, a very difficult person to be interviewed by.

Yes, Kresley Cole is in the dedication, but she also needs to be in the acknowledgments. That's how fabulous she is. Little girls are made of sugar and spice, but Kresley is made of glitter and rainbows. I heart you.

They were coming.

Warriors unlike any other. Monsters of unimaginable power. Otherworlders. Fierce creatures with the ability to look inside your soul, glimpse your greatest fear, and present it to you with an unrepentant smile.

Should've stayed home,
Aleaha Love thought. '
Cause we're gonna get spanked
.
Hard
.
And not in a good way
. Instead, she'd answered her cell and her captain's call to action, and now found herself crouched in the middle of a gnarled forest, staring into a snow-laden clearing, moonlight shooting bright amber rays in every direction as flakes wafted in the breeze like fairy dust.

Though she wore white from head to toe, had a pyre-gun stretched forward, and was burrowed in a drift as cover, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. And yeah, damn cold.