Page 3 of Frostbite, Lovebite

Ronan laughed but didn't argue, because they'd spent New Year's dealing with an entire nest of goblins running amuck in the city. There'd been eighty-three of the bastards in total, and they'd slept maybe three hours over almost three days before they got them all. "Well, keep the day available anyway, in case a good surprise happens."

"Noted." Match took another sip of his stolen cocktail then set it aside and sprawled out on the bed. The sunroom was entirely glass on three sides, and the roof currently covered in snow. A lot of snow, actually, given it hadn't been snowing much that day, just a light dusting off and on, like even winter was getting sick of winter.

Now, though, he couldn't see anything but snow, not even hints of sunlight beyond it. "Does that seem strange to you."

Ronan kissed his throat, one hand sliding under his t-shirt. "What, snow?"

"Even in the foothills we hiked there wasn't more than four inches on the ground and it was all a week old. On our way back there was barely a hint of snow falling. Now, fifteen minutes in your house, there's at least a whole inch of snow on that roof and it's practically white-out conditions."

"Maybe it fell off the trees? Or my uncles haven't bothered to sweep it off, I mean would you want to get a ladder out and fumble around cleaning a glass room you can't walk on? Whatever angle they built it at wasn't enough. You said yourself it was probably going to storm tonight, maybe it's getting an early start. Like I'm trying to do." Ronan turned his head and kissed him.

Delightful though kissing Ronan always was, the back of Match's neck was itching and after his fuck-up with that spell somany months ago, even if it had gotten him the boyfriend of his dreams, he wasn't going to screw up again. "Stop a second," he said, pushing Ronan away.

"Do you really think there's a problem?" Ronan asked.

"I would not refuse to make out with you otherwise, trust me, though your uncles have probably fucked on this bed, so maybe not here."

Ronan looked physically ill. "I sincerely hate you."

Smirking, Match kissed the corner of his mouth in apology then climbed off the bed and went to the door that led into the yard. He'd barely opened it when the wind snatched it out of his hands, slamming it against the outside wall. "Fuck!"

"What thehell," Ronan said. "There was zero wind while we were driving. It's been dead all day. Maybe you were right about an abominable snowman. Awesome. Ilovebeing thrown into trees."

"Abominations usually only affect a small radius, so unless it's in your yard, that's not it. Sudden, dangerous snowstorms are more likely a snow witch or a jack frost."

"Oh, goodie. I'll call Benny."

Match sighed, because snow witch or jack frost, it was going to be a long, ugly night. Wrestling the door closed, he headed upstairs to the spare bedroom Phil and Rick had allowed him to use as storage for spare equipment and supplies on this side of town since he spent so much of his free time with Ronan now.

He'd bought a cheap, plyboard footlocker at the local thrift store and filled it with all sorts of tools and ingredients. Together with what he always carried with him in his bookbag, there was more than enough to figure out what they were working with. Divining a problem wasn't always possible, but in this instance it would be.

Taking everything downstairs, he returned to the sunroom and rolled up a rug and set it out of the way to clear some space on the hardwood floor. Then he unfolded his handy travel board, which unfolded to a good-sized chalk board on which he could draw whatever he needed.

As he wanted to divine the nature of the problem, he drew three concentric circles, with a pentagram in the middle of the smallest. Using the points of the stars he divided the circles into sections, and in each section drew the requisite symbols.

Once everything was drawn, he got out his herbs. Sneezewort for tears, as both potential culprits were beings of rage, dissatisfaction, and often vengeance, but at their heart was a driving sorrow. Grecian Foxglove for communication with the otherworldly, especially faeries, and both creatures had fae origins. Dragon's Blood for rage. Willow Herb for communication and grounding. Clary Sage and Sage for clearing the mind, purifying the immediate area, so that the spell would cast cleanly with no outside interference.

Also quartz for amplification of the spell to cover a wider area; amethyst for divination, turquoise and black tourmaline to better communicate with the negative energies of the entity they were seeking; and finally Jasper to aid even further in connecting him specifically to the spell so he was likelier to understand what was said to him.

In a small bowl in the center he piled more sage along with an offering of 'sweet' flower petals like roses, lilacs, lilies, and more as an offering to the spirits themselves, request and thank you for the assistance being requested.

Finally he placed candles, white, black, red, blue, and green, at each star point, but along the edge of the outermost circle.

When all else was ready, he got out a match in preparation and set it nearby. Going outside, he scooped up apile of snow and carried it back inside. He filled each point of the star with some of it, until all of it was divided, then struck the match, lit the contents of the bowl and then the candles, then stuck the burnt match in his mouth and closed his eyes, silently casting the spell, calling his request to those who could provide the answer.

At first all he got was scattered noise, hints of comprehensible voices, like a radio that needed to be tuned. Match took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaving his hands relaxed on his folded legs. Nothing was understood by forcing the matter. He simply listened, slowly but surely discarding some noises, lining up others, fine tuning until finally he could hear the wordssharp pointed cutting thorny barbed cruel bite bite bite.

He jerked back, inhaling sharply, the noise cutting off abruptly, leaving him wholly in the sunroom again, the candles and offering extinguished—and the rest of the team gathered around him. Benny dropped his folded arms. "What have we got?"

"Jack frost."

Benny and Ronan swore, sharing a look. Which they should, because killing the jack frost would fall to them. It was too powerful a creature for magic to have much effect, and someone like Traci who fought with literal tooth and claw would die immediately on contact. It would take paladins with special armor and their magic swords to get the job done.

"Can you find it for us?" Benny asked.

"Not yet. I'd need a piece of it—hair, clothes, whatever. Which we can't get until we find him, so a location spell is completely pointless for now."

"Still, we'll make certain to grab something in case he gets away from us," Ronan said.

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