Page 2 of Blood & Ice

All I could hear was the howling winter wind in my ears. I’d been having more moments like these of late, especially if I got upset. I had a bad feeling that Olwen was going to have her way with me, whether I liked it or not. I’d made sure she couldn’t erase me, but that didn’t mean she was gone. If I didn’t find a way to reconcile with that part of me, I was going to tear myself apart one of these days.

I sucked in a breath and tried to calm the whipping winds inside me. There were a lot of good reasons not to assault the pushy witch. The Headmistress was queen of all she surveyed at Blood Rose. She was used to going where she wanted because she owned a freaking castle in Europe somewhere and filled it with toadies and lickspittles. The last time someone talked back to her, she’d looked like she was choking on a lemon. It wasn’t an excuse, but it was at least an explanation.

The biggest reason not to hogtie the headmistress and deliver her to Maverick for target practice was the consequences that would ensue. I knew witches well enough to know that they always retaliated. Even if it took a few decades, a witch would always settle the score. The problem was: not all of them were above using a catspaw to hurt you. That meant Astrid would pay the price for my ‘rudeness’ not me. The headmistress’ influence over her wasn’t as strong, now that Astrid was bound for the night class, but it was still her castle. Astrid would be unfairly targeted, and I couldn’t do that to her.

“You know, in polite society, we knock before we enter someone’s house. This is technically trespassing, since I didn’t invite you in. I could arrest you for it.”

Aurea’s gaze swept over what she could see of my home, unperturbed by the threat. She knew as well as I did that it was as empty as the candy wrappers papering the bottom of my car. If I decided to throw down, I could probably win, even against a witch of her age and power, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. I’d wipe out all my reserves over this petty squabble and wouldn’t be able to help Maverick against the (possibly) amorous advances of a tentacle monster. I’d humor her for five minutes, tops, and then I’d kick her ass out. It was more than fair.

“You live in this hovel?” she asked after a moment.

And there went all my goodwill. Not that I’d had a lot in the first place. ‘Quiet and tactful’ were descriptors rarely applied to me. I was proud to be a ball-busting bitch. Any sense of curiosity I’d harbored since Aurea arrived evaporated like morning dew, leaving me grumpier than I’d been before. She could say whatever she liked about me, but she didn’t get to knock my house. It wasn’t impressive by any stretch of the imagination, but it was comfortable, and more importantly, it wasmine.

“I make sixty thousand a year,” I said flatly. “In thiseconomy, that barely covers the necessities. Excuse the hell out of me for not hiring an interior designer to spruce up the place.”

Aurea aimed a look of utter scorn down her nose at me. Which was a feat, considering I was taller in my natural faerie form. I’d never been a short woman, and the full transformation had added at least half a foot to my less-than-modest height. Witches just had a talent for swiping all your hard-won confidence and leaving you floundering. Maverick did it too, but he’d never aimed his contempt at me, and I doubted he ever would.

“You are a winter princess.”

“So what?”

“So, you have untold riches at your fingertips. You could summon what you require if you accepted the role predestined for you.”

“I don’t believe in fate, and you’re dancing around the subject. You know what I’m going to ask.”

Her lips curved into a bitter little smile. “Ah yes, that.”

“Uh-huh,that.Mind telling me what the hellthatis?”

Aurea cast another glance around the house, eyes narrowing. A moment later her aura breezed past me, her magic questing for any enchantments that could be used to spy on our conversation. Maverick did it enough that I was familiar with the spell, even if this one had a sour flavor to it. She seemed satisfied when she found no active listening spells.

“I suppose your home’s protections are... adequate,” she said at last. “The warlock put them up for you, I suppose?”

“Some of them,” I answered, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t leaving, and I’d only be inviting more guests if I left the door open. If this was my first visitor of the night, I hated to think what might come after.

“Do you always let a man fight your battles for you?” she asked, ambling with no particular urgency toward my kitchen.“Because from what I can tell, he did most of the heavy lifting during the debacle with the vampires.”

My first knee-jerk reaction was to follow up on my original urge and sweep her out of my house with a gust of wind. If I was lucky, she’d ruin her nice clothing in the snow. I’d been through this rigmarole so many times with the cops back in Portland. Most of my team had been good men, but there were always a few sour apples in the bunch. The men whose inflated egos couldn’t stand to see a woman in charge, no matter how capable she might be. They liked to harass me and then call me emotional if I reacted in any way. I’d gotten used to letting things like stupid comments roll off my back.

The insight did tell me something interesting about Aurea, though. Despite what she might project to the public, she was off-footed, unable to maintain her usual careful composure. Antagonizing me wasn’t just about what I’d done at her school. It had roots in something deeper.

“Are you always a bitch when you’re desperate?” I asked, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. It creaked and wobbled when I sat down. I fought not to frown. What had the boys gotten up to with Uncle Marty this time? And was I going to have to buy an entirely new dining room set because of it? God, I hoped not.

Aurea took her own wobbly seat, scowling at me. She pulled a face and pressed a hand to her chest. “I beg your pardon?”

I rolled my eyes. The fake outrage was going to get old fast. “Just cut the bullshit, Aurea. I don’t have time for it. I’m supposed to be chasing down a werewolf high on meth and his accomplice, who may or may not have tentacles. The point is: it has the potential to get very messy, very quickly, so I’m going to need you to say your piece and then get the hell out of my house so I can get going.”

“You’re not very ladylike.”

“No one ever accused me of being a lady.”

She frowned. “Behaving with decorum is the best way to earn respect. Swearing like a sailor isn’t becoming.”

“And I don’t give a damn,” I answered, crossing my arms over my chest. “As I said, get to the point. The preamble really leaves something to be desired.”

Aurea’s gaze was fixed on a point above my head, unwilling to look me in the eye. I wasn’t sure what she expected me to do. There were spells I could theoretically do that would ensnare her mind, but simple eye contact alone wouldn’t do the job.

“Very well, if you want me to say it simply, I will… Vivian is dead.”

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