Page 33 of Frosted Torment

“You said you were ready for this, Noa. It’s time to learn what that means.”

I met Lex’s unwavering gaze. “So, teach me.”

“Get a shower, then meet us out in the living room. Make sure to inspect your entire body and let me know if you see anything unusual.”

“Angels are a pain in the ass,” I groaned.

“Fallen ones, yes. And you’re welcome.” Lex gestured toward the other side of the room to a small closet. “You’ll findclean clothes in there, and new bras and panties in the dresser.”

I turned back to look at him, but the door closed before I could speak. I fell back on the lumpy mattress and smothered myself with a pillow, then screamed. Safe in the moment, I let the tears roll back into my hair, then threw the pillow at the door. After a deep breath, my eyes fixated on the ceiling with its rough-hewn cedar planks. Its raw color resembled how exposed I felt.

I forced myself out of bed when a shock of cold struck my feet. I crossed the wooden floor and scurried over to a small rug placed in front of a wooden dresser dotted with pine knots. A wood-framed mirror accented with thin gold leaves hung above it.

I pushed my hoodie back over my shoulder to inspect the scratches left behind by the demon who attacked me. I held my breath when tiny scar lines were all that I could see. My skin healed itself, and I didn’t know why or even how.

As I ran my hands through my hair, my fingers caught on every knot. Turning sideways, I shuddered at the shape of my body. For someone who protested the gym, my image reflected that. I was a limp noodle compared to my friends. I’d never survive if I had to defend myself.

Drops of sunlight began to dance with the shadows of trees across the mirror and the floor. I glanced out the window, then touched it. The chill stung my fingers.

I pushed the latch with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. Sealed shut, I rested my face against the windowpane, enjoying its relief.

I blinked, adjusting to the light, and noticed the fencestretched on for miles. It was difficult to see where it stopped. Beyond the thick tree line were snow-covered mountains. The grass was light brown, with scattered snow patches. I stood in awe of its beauty, then investigated the rest of the room.

The closet held jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters. Even a puffy green snow jacket hung toward the back. A pair of tennis shoes, two sets of hiking boots, and snow boots lined the floor, and when I checked them, they were all my size.

Everything anyone on a camping trip to the mountains could use filled the space, and it was mine. They prepared this room for me. I convinced myself it was for my protection, but something about it didn’t feel right.

Ultimately, I settled on a white tank top, an oversized plaid flannel shirt, and fitted jeans, then laid them across the bed. The hiking boots would be my best option if I figured out a way to explore. I wasn’t about to let some stalker mess with me when I had too much at stake. Better to figure him out first and keep myself alive. Then I could move on to finding my mom’s killers.

“I hear you, Mr. Mind Stalker,” I sang in a low whisper. “If you could stop attacking me, that would be great.”

I waited for a response, but it didn’t come. As I chose my underwear and socks, I noticed dirt and blood crusted up under a few of my fingernails and winced when I tried to pick it away. I found the contents of the cabinets in the bathroom stocked with bubble bath, peroxide, a box of adhesive bandages, and an unopened pack of elastic hair bands.

Once I discarded my clothes, I filled the tub and then sank into what felt like a spa bath. The scent of lavender foam caressed my skin. Noticing a few broken nails from scratching at the ground last night, I soaked the dirt away.

After rinsing the last couple of days down the drain, I looked at the bracelet I still wore. It was atrocious, but it was a connection to my mom. I wrapped myself in a towel, then gazed at the beautiful designs carved into the wooden crown molding.

Phases of the moon rose and fell across the trim, while intricately carved wolves howled into the sky from each corner. Red and blue towels dressed a gold towel bar above the toilet, and a painting of an orange and purple sunset behind a strange rock formation hung above the bathroom door. I kept my focus on the detailed carvings that resembled the wolf statues at the front gates while peroxide sizzled on my fingers.

Once the pain stopped, I wrapped bandages around the two worst fingernails. Then I pulled up my hair into a quick bun and secured it with a hair tie. After dressing, I took in the fresh floral scent of the fabric softener in my flannel shirt and smiled.

Time to get the truth.

CHAPTER 14

The smell of bacon frying hit my nose when I opened the bedroom door. Stepping into what resembled a hectic family holiday, angels scurried back and forth in front of me, dressed in identical black pants and gray sweatshirts. They looked like gladiators at boot camp. Voices echoed across the living room into the kitchen.

The screen door off the porch bounced back and forth as they grabbed paper plates filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, waffles, and fresh fruit. Carafes of coffee and orange juice sat at the end of a counter, and my stomach lurched me forward to eat. The twin guards from the previous night stood drinking orange juice together like auto-synced robots.

Chills scurried across my skin when a man seated at the kitchen table looked up from his plate and stopped eating. I swallowed hard as his deep brown eyes bore into me. I offered a slight wave, but he got up and exited through the front door, leaving his breakfast unfinished.

The twins followed him. My mind struggled to process its surroundings, and I understood Dorothy’s desire to get home from Oz. Only, I didn’t see my slippers anywhere. Faces I didn’t recognize, some with different scars on them, looked in my direction as I inched further into the kitchen.

Another man, securing a black eye patch, struggled to focus as purple and blue swelled over his other eye. I wondered if whoever he fought even survived, based on his injuries. Considering what he was, what they both were, the answer was yes.

More fallen ones moving in and out of the house began to look at me, letting their eyes linger. I slunk back until I saw Jossy lounging across a couch, reading a sports magazine. He traded his suit for dark jeans and a white button-down. His lava-colored hair was not in a ponytail, either. He set the paper down as soon as he saw me, with my mouth hanging open in shock.

“How are you feeling?” Jossy stood and walked over to me with his arms open for a hug.

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