Ice (Page 34)

There wasn’t much of anything in the house that could be used as a weapon, now that all the ammunition was gone, but what better place to find a weapon than the kitchen? Niki forced herself to stand, pushing past her pain and the lingering chill. Her hands were so cold, her entire body was so cold she could barely move. Now that she was inside that iciness would fade, but it wasn’t happening fast. Once she had the place to herself she’d light a fire, kick back, take a hit, and relax. She’d earned it tonight.

Slowly she opened a drawer, then another, cautiously feeling around and not bothering to close them since that might make too much noise and she wasn’t yet ready to face her enemies. She couldn’t see much, but her eyes had adjusted to the dark and there was a touch of light, reflecting off the ice, coming through the kitchen window. There was just enough for her to see shadows and shapes as she felt around inside the drawers, finding nothing suitable. There was only the bare minimum in the way of utensils. After searching four drawers, she silently huffed in frustration, then she scanned the countertop and smiled at the dark shape she saw there.

A touch confirmed that the dark shape was a butcher block of knives. She grabbed the handle of the largest knife, and was horrified to find that her hands were so cold she couldn’t properly grip it. What good was a knife if she couldn’t hold it? She carefully placed the knife on the counter within easy rich, then removed her gloves and rubbed her hands together, bringing blood flow and warmth back. She would have liked to turn on the faucet and run warm water over her hands, but the sound of running water would alert the two upstairs, just as it had alerted her, so she didn’t dare. She had to make do. After rubbing her hands for a minute she stuck them under her arms to absorb what body heat she had left.

With the return of warmth came a rush of pain. She was hurt, she didn’t know how bad, but she thought about Darwin and how those two jerks had killed him, and she pushed the pain away. She’d deal with that later, after they were dead. The big dude would go first, because he was the most dangerous. He’d killed Darwin with his fucking elbow. One quick pop and that was it, no more Darwin. Lorelei was nothing. Niki knew she could take her with no problem, after the big dude was out of the way.

When she picked up the knife again, she was pleased with her grip. She could hold it properly now. She concentrated on listening again. For a moment there was nothing, then a board overhead creaked. There was a footstep, then another.

At first she’d been pissed because the power was out, but now she thought that would work in her favor. There were shadows and dark corners where she could hide, where she could wait and catch them by surprise. She had an advantage, a big one. She knew where they were; they thought she was helpless, dead, out of their lives.

They were wrong. She was like a ghost, a very dangerous ghost who intended to make sure they were both dead before the light of day gave them a chance to find her.

She remembered seeing a few candles and a couple more flashlights lying around, but searching for them would make too much noise, and any light she made would give her position away. That could wait. They’d know she was here soon enough, but not yet.

She was a part of the night, she thought, at once giddy and yet strangely detached, as if a part of her was floating along unconnected to her body. She was a shadow. She was death. With the knife gripped in her hand she listened, then took a few careful steps forward. She didn’t need to see.

And they would never see her coming.

God, he hated pulling on his wet jeans, but Gabriel fought his way into them anyway. They’d started to dry, thanks to the gas heater in the bathroom, but were still unpleasantly damp and clammy. After everything he’d been through tonight, he could handle unpleasant for a while. Besides, once they got downstairs and started the fireplace, the jeans wouldn’t be damp for long. His coat had kept his shirt dry, and his boots had protected his feet. Once the fireplace had the living room warmer, he’d strip off the jeans and drape them over a chair or something, shoved close to the fireplace so they’d dry faster.

Lolly had some clothes in her bedroom, which surprised him because she’d been wearing so damn many he thought for sure she’d had them all on. Her bedroom door, however, was locked from the inside. He’d be able to pop the lock with no problem, with a straight pin or a paper clip, neither of which he happened to have on him.

“There are both downstairs,” she replied, when he said as much. She could have put her own wet clothes back on, as he had, but she couldn’t stand the thought and instead got a thin blanket from the linen closet and wrapped it around her. “I’ll wait until you can get my bedroom door open.”

That suited him, he thought. Yeah, it was a real hardship, spending the night with a woman wearing nothing but a blanket, when he remembered exactly what she looked like and felt like underneath the cloth.

He hadn’t intended to have sex with Lolly in the shower, but he sure as hell couldn’t say he was sorry. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted it, that he regretted what had happened. Whether or not it happened again … shit, if she touched him and smiled, if she put her mouth on him again, he likely wouldn’t have any more control than he’d had the first time around.

It occurred to him that he didn’t know if she was married or ever had been, if she had a husband or a boyfriend back home. Knowing Lolly, he suspected not. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d screw around on a man.

Then again, could he really say he knew her? People changed in fifteen years. Sometimes they changed a lot. And yet he felt as if he knew her, felt as if the fifteen years were maybe fifteen months instead, that the interval had given him time to see her in a different light and appreciate the differences. Maturity was a wonderful thing.