Page 30 of The Devil's Ice

“Nowif you try to get away, you’ll have to takethemwith you, won’t you? Any plan has to factor in two brats who can’t walk or be trusted to shut the fuck up, let alone help… so thatseriouslylimits your options, doesn’t it? And if your boys come in here on some rescue mission, guns blazing and shooting first and asking questions later, can you besurethat there won’t be a couple of tiny little casualties?”

The door slammed behind Viper and Preacher, and Wolf shut his eyes briefly. He’d never been anything like a praying man, but as he stood over the twins’ and Briley’s son and daughter, he sent up a fervent hope that there was a deity who deigned to check in with Wolf Connor once in a while, and that he still had some credit with the house.

Then he knelt down on the floor. Got to figuring out just how the hell to keep these babies alive.

Chapter Twelve

Voices. Faint, distant, blurry. But definitely voices. They seemed familiar, and Vixen strained to hear what was being said.

“…still not fully out of sedation yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

Ice! Vixen fought to open her eyes, struggled to sit up, or even just to move, but she couldn’t do any of it. Her whole body felt like it was encased in concrete: heavy, immobile, rock-solid. She tried to speak, or even to make a sound –God, just a tiny sound, come on now– but her throat wasn’t working, either. So she lay there, cradled in the hands of the darkness, listening.

“What did Drake say about the kids?”

“The cops are all over it, but so far, nothing. Briley and the boys are losing theirminds.”

The kids? The babies? What happened to them?

“Hey, did Vixen just move her legs?” A voice that she now knew to be Viking’s, as faint as if he were standing miles and miles away.

“She does that sometimes,” Ice said, sounding like he was at the bottom of a well. “It looks like she’s running.”

Running.

Suddenly, she was back in the bar parking lot, running from something in what felt like slow-motion, something terrifying and deadly. She had a hand in hers, a tiny hand, so she wasn’t alone in her desperate flight through the quicksand. She was running with…

Keira.

Oh, God. Keira.

Panicked now, desperate to wake up, frantic to hear what the hell had happened, Vixen struggled harder against the heavy darkness. But it was no good, no good at all. She wasn’t strong enough to push past the weighted shadows, and she fell into a deep well of endless night. She was out long before she hit bottom.

**

The next time that Vixen emerged from the pillowy dark, all was quiet. She tried once again to open her eyes; once again, she failed. That was when Ice started talking to her.

His voice was rough, low, husky. Like he’d been shouting for days, or needed to drink some water. It had an undercurrent of rage, and that made her tense up, made her think about panicking, until she heard the sweet words that he was murmuring to her.

“I don’t know if you can hear me yet, but I figure that you’re closer to being awake than not, so I’m gonna sit here like a fucking idiot and talk to a heavily sedated woman… let you know that you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m holding your hand. You feel it, Vix?”

A pause, and now Vixen focused on her hands, trying to feel Ice’s skin on hers. And – yes. Yes, there was a soft, gentle pressure on her right hand, a solid warmth that she hadn’t noticed before. Shefelthim, and her panic went down a few levels.

He spoke again.“You’re safe. I’ve got you, Vix. I’m here, and here is where I’m gonna stay, for as long as it takes. Just – just open your beautiful eyes for me. Wake up.C’mon now, baby.”

That was the first time that he’d called her anything except Vix – and Ice was the only one who called herthat, anyway – and it surprised her. All those nights they’d spent together in Satan’s back rooms, doing every wild and intimate thing that she could imagine, and he’d never once used an endearment of any kind. ‘Vix’ was as soft as Ice got when referring to her and it had always felt like a pet name between just them, and it had made her glow a bit.

But this. This was different. This was special.

It wasthismore than anything that galvanized her to push through the dark barriers holding her prisoner. Ice was worried, and angry, and calling herbaby, and the only thing that was left to do was for her to wake up. So she did.

Her eyes opened, just a bit. The room swam around her, advanced, retreated. She blinked, blinked hard, and her vision cleared.

The room was semi-lit from the lights in the hallway outside, and she saw Ice’s enormous shadow on the wall next to her. He was sitting in a chair by her bed, his arms resting on the protective bars, his chin on his muscled forearms. He was holding her hand between both of his, and now she felt him tracing slow, small circles on her palm. It was soothing, calming, and she felt the tug of sleep again. She resisted it, though, pushed it away. She had to stay here with him, at least for a little while.

She took a deep breath, released it. He heard the change, and his head jerked up. His incredible eyes were wide and stunned, but in less than a second, they showed nothing but worry.

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