Page 19 of Hunted in Holly

He was legitimately out cold—not faking it to trick me. For someone who was ordinarily such a terrifying man, he looked so peaceful and harmless without his scarlet eyes burning into me. His steady breathing and neutral expression humanized a monster.

I inched in closer, and I removed the rope from my pack. I felt the weight of itin my hands, so thick and strong.

This had to work. No one could break this easily, and I wanted to believe he wouldn’t have given me a worthless tool. The net had held him—I saw his bound boots still on the ice sheet while we were under—and this rope was even stronger.

I tugged on each end as one last strength test, then I got to work, moving with agility that would outpace my waning freeze spell.

I had to win this decisively, or he would be chasing me forever. Even if a Saint was good to his word, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t simply change the game to continue his pursuit. I didn’t trust anyone or anything within this forsaken Northern Pole.

I grabbed his wrists and I tied them over his head, before knotting the rope heavily around the wide tree trunk of a particularly tall and girthy Ponderosa Pine. I took extra care to assure he couldn’t wriggle free with any amount of sleight of hand by double, triple, and quadruple securing each loop of the restraints. His life force pushed back on my psyche, and the ice around his heart was starting to give.

I didn’t worry about cutting off circulation or tying the ropes too tight. My power was already starting to slip, and I didn’t have the luxury of gentleness. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have been gentle with me. Something told me he would be disappointed if I showed him anything less.

I gritted my teeth as I held that ice in his chest for just a few more seconds, having to fight an internal fire that was doing everything it could to force me out. On the verge of exhaustion, I took one step back, dropped my power, and watched as he blinked himself awake.

The all-powerful Saint Nicholas looked startled and confused, as if he’d just awoken from a nap he’d not intended to take. I waited for him to orient himself to his surroundings, to observe and test the thick ropes on his wrists, then to meet my gaze. A grin danced on my lips as the roles were now fully reversed.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with unusual nervousness, and I tookimpossiblesatisfaction in that.

“Well, this is interesting.” He said through a shaky smirk, though his physical tells betrayed his expression. He attempted to rotate his wrists within the ropes, but my knots were perfect. “I didn’t take you for a fan of bondage, Sweet Noel.”

“You didn’t take me for an equal either, and that’s why I won, and you lost.” I crouched in front of him, my gaze level with his. With how tall he was, this was the only time I could do that.

I swallowed down my own nerves, then I shoved my palm against his neck, and I forced his head back against the bark.

He told me I could kill him if I took his head. I didn’t know if that was true, but it was worth a shot, and it all made logical sense. I didn’t have to know where the lie ended and the truth began anymore. I just had to take the leap and believe.

Completely depleted of my power, I picked up the knife he’d put in my survival pack. I felt the weight of the blade in my hand, I tossed it, caught it, and twirled it. Then I turned my attention to my captive.

Nicholas lifted his chin with the arrogant swagger I was becoming all too accustomed to, though I couldn’t say if it was to look down on me or to grant me better access. “What are you waiting for?” He tugged on his wrists to emphasize his own predicament. “You have me exactly where you want me, don’t you? Go on now. Let me see how sharp your fangs really are.”

I drew a breath through my nose, not giving him the dignity of a response. He had an impeccable ability to make me second guess reality. Every twitch of his muscles had me on edge, like the tables could turn again with the slightest flick of his wrist.

So I clenched that knife until my knuckles turned white.

“Mmmmm, look at the vicious shine in your eyes.” He purred. “I knew we were the same, you and I.”

“I’m nothing like you.” I growled back. “You’re a murderer. You killed innocent people. Everyone I’ve ever known and loved lies in blood and ash by your hand.” I focused on my breathing to hold my composure. “You’re a sick man playing sick games, and the world is only worse with you in it.”

“And you are my marionette, who hasn’t even noticed she’s tangled in her own strings, while I hold the cross brace that controls you. Even as you fight and scream and cry, you’re still tied to your master, and I can’t wait to drag you to hell with me.” Nicholas chuckled, and I hated the way I could feel his amusement shaking against my palm on his neck. “Go on, Caroline. Show meyourbeautiful monster. I want so badly to meet her.”

With a sneer on my lips, grinding my teeth, I lifted that blade high above my head.

Then with all of the resolve in my soul, I removed my hand from his neck, and I swung for his jugular. In fractions of a second, Iwouldbecome his monster.

I’d have justice, once and for all.

Nicholas caught my wrist in a punishing grip, not inches from making contact. A rough squeeze disarmed me, the knife landing point down in the cold, hard ground, and I was still trying to process it all when I found myself on my back in the snow at his side. The white of the overhead storm was blocked by the shadow of his body, as he pinned me beneath him on the ground.

In the corner of my eye, the rope completely disintegrated in a magic flame at the foot of the tree. I didn’t know how or when he’d done it, but he’d freed himself, disarmed me, and reversed the power dynamic in the blink of an eye.

“Checkmate, Queen of the South.” He pressed the heels of his hands into my wrists, and he secured my thighs beneath his knees. I had to tell myself to breathe as I looked right through him in stunned, terrified confusion.

I didn’t have any words. I swallowed hard to pass the lump in my throat, but it didn’t budge. “How did you get free?” The question was rhetorical. The answer didn’t matter.

“Did you really think that I could be bound by my own rope? You are delightfully naïve.” He laced his gloved fingers in between mine, then he squeezed my knuckles with taunting affection. My heart pounded, and I needed to believe it was in fear. There was nothing good or safe about this man. “Stopping my heart with your ice magic was quite the trick though. You might just kill me yet, Sweet Noel.” The admiration in his eyes was disarming, but I wasn’t going to fall for it.

“Did you like that?” I narrowed my eyes, and attempted to concentrate what little energy I had left to hit him again, hoping I mightget just enough of a reaction to free myself. While he was fully aware, and me being so depleted of energy, I barely held him for a single heartbeat. His eye twitch was barely perceptible as my ice tried and failed to grab him again. I tested each of my limbs, looking for a weak point where I might squirm free, but his weight and his strength didn’t give a single millimeter. I did my best to play it off like it had been a quiet threat and not my own exhaustion that failed me. “You almost look cute when you’re unconscious.” I said, holding onto that false air of control.

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