He couldn’t care less about children and toys.
He only really cared about the Well of Magic.
He brushed snowflakes off his dark jacket. The cold didn’t bother him in the least. He was Jack Frost, after all, the harbinger of winter.
Before he’d become Jack Frost he was Angel Nicholas.
Their parents had big plans for them with names like Saint and Angel.
And did he prove them wrong.
After losing the fight to take over the Well as a young man, he’d accepted the role of Jack Frost as a consolation prize, working side by side with the brother who’d robbed him of the only thing he’d ever wanted: control of the Well.
It was entirely Saint’s fault that Angel had slipped over the edge into the dark side of magic after the battle that robbed him of his beloved wife Crystal.
Bringing his thoughts back to the present when he heard the perimeter alarm blaring, he hummed as he watched to see the response time. Saint and his elves and shifter assholeswere always improving their security measures. Jack was simply testing to see what new things his brother had done.
His followers were magical people he’d abducted and siphoned off their souls to charge his magic. Like Saint, who used the Well to replenish his magic, Jack had to also replenish his, but the Well didn’t like dark magic, so he had to steal magic from fairies, elves, warlocks, and witches. Elves were the easiest because they were at the North Pole, but he could travel around the world when he pleased and lure fairies, witches, and warlocks to himself whenever he wanted.
He was damn charming.
His right-hand follower, Valeth, appeared, his breath puffing out in the cold air.
“They’re like rabbits,” he said.
Frost looked down at him. Valeth had been an elf, which despite the general human consensus of their size, were of normal stature. What changed when they became evil and their good magic was gone was that their skin took on a gray hue and their eyes turned black.
“They’re pretty fast,” Frost mused as he watched the Guardians rush around, looking for whoever or whatever had triggered the perimeter alarm.
“Faster than a few months ago.”
One of the followers had ridden an elk through the perimeter, triggering the alarm and leaping backward before they were prevented from crossing the magical protection.
Jack wasn’t able to cross the security perimeter, it was imbued with good magic and he’d been exiled from Northernmost. Until Santa breathed his last breath, Jack and his followers couldn’t enter Northernmost. But once he was dead, it would all belong to him.
A light appeared in one of the buildings.
Jack’s enhanced hearing picked up a gasp and a pounding heart.
Hmm.
He saw a figure in a doorway, illuminated from behind by interior lights. An elf no doubt. He drew on his magic and cupped his mouth, whispering to the figure, “I’ll help you, come to me.”
He stared at the figure in the open doorway, wondering if they would follow his instructions. He got his answer when the figure stepped free of the door and it clanged shut behind them.
They tried to open the door but couldn’t.
He cupped his mouth again and put more power into his voice. He needed to feed and satiate his magic. An elf was just the ticket.
“I’ll help you. Come to me, sweet one.”
He thought it was a female, but he didn’t really care. He only cared that he’d have another follower to add to his army and magic to sustain him.
That’s right, come to me.
Seren found a door at the end of one hall after she’d been wandering for what felt like forever. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t run into anyone at all as she’d made her way aimlessly through what could only be described as an underground bunker.
She touched the door handle, and something in the pit of her stomach made her want to turn back and find Storm. She’d felt awful ever since she walked away from the breakroom without waiting for him to return. He’d be pissed she was gone, she wasvery sure, but also? She kind of liked him and she wanted to spend time with him.