Biting Cold (Chicagoland Vampires #6)(13)
Author: Chloe Neill

"It’s getting colder," I said.

Ethan nodded. He took my hand, and we folowed the stream for a bit in the quiet dark, then crossed through the trees to the edge of another field. This one was bounded by a fence and held a scattering of cows.

"I think I prefer woods to empty fields," I said. "Trees seem safer somehow."

"I suppose," Ethan said quietly. He dropped my hand and rubbed his temples.

"Another headache?"

He nodded, then took my hand again. We made it only a few more steps before he wrenched his hand from mine and began scrubbing his hands across his arms.

"Christ almighty," he swore.

"Ethan?" I tentatively asked. He was obviously in pain, but I had no idea how to help. And when he looked at me, there was fear in his eyes that made my blood run cold.

"Is it Tate again?"

He shook his head.

"Is it the accident? Did you hit your head?"

He reached out for a nearby tree, bracing his arm against it.

"You told me Malory said her need for the dark magic was uncomfortable. An irritation."

I nodded, fear squeezing my chest tight.

"I think I feel that itch beneath my skin."

My eyes widened. "You can sense what she’s feeling?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and baled his fists on his forehead like he was holding back a scream. "It’s infuriating. Like fire beneath my skin. Like things are wrong."

"When did it start?"

"Just now. This is the first time…this has happened."

But was it? Ethan’s rebirth hadn’t been unicorns and rainbows at first. He’d managed to walk through smoke and fire back to me, only to colapse a few minutes later.

"On the midway, you colapsed. You fel down right after she resurrected you."

"I don’t remember that," he said.

I thought back to that moment, looking for some fact that might link what had happened then and what he was feeling now.

"You walked across the grass. Jonah saw you first."

"Where was Malory?"

"She was unconscious. Catcher had knocked her out." She’d passed out, and then he had, too. I worked to keep my voice steady. "Do you think you’re connected to her somehow?"

He shook his head. "I don’t know. Had the familiar spel been completed, I certainly would have been. But she didn’t manage to finish it."

"Maybe what she did finish was enough," I said, and the fears began to pummel my brain. Please, I silently prayed, please don’t let her turn him into a zombie.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted, his face contorted. "It hurts. If this is what she’s feeling, I get it. I understand the pain."

I felt a sudden sympathy for her – not for what she’d done, but for the demons she’d had to fight along the way. They didn’t excuse her behavior, but if this was what she was feeling, they certainly explained it a little: better to destroy the world than to let it drive you completely crazy.

"But you wouldn’t harm others to be rid of it," I quietly reminded him. "Why are you feeling it now? Can you tel if she’s upset? Angry?"

He opened his eyes, his face stil tight with pain. "Maybe. I don’t know. But I think she’s nearby."

I put a hand on the pommel of my sword and opened myself to any hints of magic in the air. But there was nothing. If she was nearby, I couldn’t tel. "Do you know where?"

Ethan shook his head. I could tel he was struggling to maintain his composure, but I wasn’t about to give up on him or let him succumb to whatever was overcoming Malory. And I realized that if he couldn’t overcome it – a vampire with four hundred years of experience in dealing with magic – how could we possibly ask her to?

I tipped his chin up so that he was forced to look at me. And then I recaled al the speeches he’d ever given me, and al the motivational things he’d ever said, and the fact that he’d never let me quit or stop when something big was on the line.

"Ethan Sulivan. You are four hundred years old, kiled and resurrected twice. You are stronger than she is. Fight back. Do not let a self-centered sorceress bring you to your knees."

He tried to look away, but I held his chin tight, red welts appearing beneath my fingers. I’d been a vampire for less than a year, but I was a strong one. Might as wel show it off for a good cause.

It worked: When his gaze found mine again, there was fury there. His eyes had changed from emerald green to molten silver, and he clearly wasn’t pleased with my attempt at an intervention.

"Watch your tone, Sentinel."

Mimicking him perfectly, I arched a single eyebrow. "You watch your tone, Sulivan. You wil not alow a child to make you weak. She is no vampire. She is no predator. She is a witch."

There was a rumble deep in his throat. He was getting pissed, so I knew I was on the right track. It was just a matter of making him remember what he was.

"You are a vampire," I repeated. "A predator among predators. A creature of deep nights and ful moons. But you have learned to survive in an urban environment. You have learned to block out the sensations you don’t need. Malory is one of those sensations. The feelings aren’t yours – they’re hers.

So suck it up, and block them out."

He shivered as he fought for control, trying desperately to separate what he felt from what she felt.

I saw the moment Ethan’s control kicked in – his eyes flashed back to green shards of ice.

"Thank you," he quietly said, unusualy stil with the effort of keeping her angst in check.

"You’re welcome."

We looked at each other for a moment, and something passed between us. Something new. For months, I’d been comforted by others, and now I was comforting him…at least until a sharp pain radiated from my shin.

"Ow!" I yelped, instinctively looking down – and staring in shock.

There, at my feet, tapping his foot impatiently, stood a brightly uniformed…Wel, he looked like a garden gnome. White cap.

Stumpy shoes. Long beard. Red pants and green shirt. Just like the kind you’d see in someone’s backyard. Except for the sulking. Which he was clearly doing.

"If you two are done with al the lovey-dovey crap," he said, "can we get down to business?"

"Wel," Ethan said, eyebrow arched at the man at our feet. "I did not expect that."

Chapter Five

GNOME SWEET GNOME

I could hardly form words. "Are you – you’re a – "

"Gnome, yes. Clearly. Obviously." He sighed with obvious irritation. "Let’s go."

"Go where, exactly?" Ethan asked.

The gnome roled his eyes and dropped his shoulders dramaticaly. "You’re here to help take care of the witch. We’re here to help take care of the witch. And the witch is clearly brewing something up, so we need to take our positions and prepare to kick her ass."