Page 73 of Drawn in Blood
She made her way up to her room, kicking off her shoes and throwing on her pajamas. She collapsed in bed, content to stay there for the rest of the weekend. She tucked the journal away in the drawer of her nightstand and settled in to go to sleep. Her eyes began to flutter closed when all of a sudden she felt a tug at her sternum, the invisible string that connected her to the boys thrumming ever so slightly. She bolted upright, then heard a faint knocking on the window that led to her balcony. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed, picking up the book on her bedside table, and sneaking over to the window, peeled the curtain back to peer outside. She rolled her eyes as she swungthe door open, one hand on her hip and the other still gripping the book.
“Going to defend yourself with a copy ofMagical Moments in Vala History?”Killian asked with a grin, as he leaned on the door frame. He looked more casual than Ember had ever seen him, wearing jeans and winter coat, gloves on both hands.
“My dagger is in my other pajamas,” she replied, as she rolled her eyes, tossing her book on her bed. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with a mischief that drew Ember to him like a magnet, sucking her in like quicksand.
“What sort of a surprise?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
“Now, it wouldn’t very well be a surprise if I told you, would it?” he replied, cocking a brow. “Put on something warm and meet me outside.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he closed the balcony doors and shimmied back down to the yard, leaving Ember in near darkness once again.
She quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt, zipping up her jacket and grabbing gloves and a hat. She slipped her phone in her pocket and quietly made her way out her bedroom door and down the steps, deciding that trying to climb down the balcony to the ground didn’t seem like a wonderful idea.
Killian was lounging on a patio chair when she walked out the back door and quickly leapt up when he saw her step out. He nodded toward the tree line, and Ember followed him across the yard. They quietly trudged through the small section of woods and to the edge of the cliff, and it took every ounce of courage Ember had to not back away from it.
“I’ve been planning this for weeks,” Killian finally said, a small smile playing at the edge of his mouth.
The moon lit his profile, chiseling his features against the harshness of the night sky, and Ember could’ve sworn he never looked more god-like than he did in that moment. His eyes sparkled as he grinned, pulling a gold pendant on a chain out of his shirt.
“Isn’t she a beauty,” he said, swinging it back and forth.
“What exactly is it?” Ember asked, scrunching her nose.
“A Geoport,” Killian whispered. “It allows for international travel, sort of like an Echopoint, except further. You typically have to fill out a ton of paperwork and wait like a month or two to be cleared for travel. It’s all very annoying, really.”
“And I take it you didn’t do any of that?” she replied, trying to hide her smile as she crossed her arms.
Killian shrugged. “Nicked it from my da’.” He grinned. “Sometimes being the son of a dark artifacts dealer comes in handy.” He held out his hand, his alabaster skin almost glowing under the light of the moon.
Ember flexed her fingers at her sides, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Do you trust me?” he almost whispered, reaching his hand out further, barely brushing the edge of her pinky with his fingers.
“With my life,” she whispered, as she slipped her hand into his. His fingers wrapped around her small hand, and her breath hitched in her chest. His other hand held the pendant, and he mumbled an incantation into it, gripping her hand just a little tighter. Without any warning, he took a leap off the cliff, yanking her along with him, and she felt herself being sucked through the air as she let out a yelp. Stars glittered around them as they spun faster than she ever imagined possible.
The first thing she noticed when her feet hit the ground was that it wasn’t completely solid. It crunched under her shoes as she sank into it.
Snow.
Wind whipped her braid, the cold sinking through her jacket and into her bones as she shivered. It was still pitch black, the darkness covering the snow like a shimmering veil.
“Welcome to the land of fire and ice.” Killian smiled, still holding her hand. “More specifically, Grundarfjörður.”
Ember sucked in a breath as she spun around. White snow blanketed every surface, and a large mountain jutted out of the ground in the distance, almost like it had risen directly out of the inky water surrounding it. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, almost like if she spoke too loudly, it would awaken whatever ancient beings slept beneath the glaciers.
“The mountain is called Kirkjufell,” Killian continued, taking her hand as they walked past a small waterfall to their left, down a set of stairs, and through drifts of snow. “Grundarfjörður is the fishing village over there,” he pointed to a small village hugging the coast, mountains towering behind it.
They made their way to the road, walking toward the sleepy village and toward the docks dotting the coast. Killian shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting nervously back and forth, and Ember almost wanted to laugh. She hadneverseen him nervous, not even a little bit, and the sight suddenly made him look more human than she ever thought possible. “So, you’ve brought me on a secret, midnight rendezvous to a small fishing village in Iceland?”
“Something like that.” Killian shrugged, mischief gleaming in his campfire eyes.
“Come to watch the show?” a voice sounded from beside them.
Ember’s head whipped, around and her jaw went slack.
A tall man—at least six foot four—stood in a fishing boat to their left, winding rope around his arms as he grinned. He had shoulder length blond hair littered with braids and beads,and a tattoo that almost looked like a rune covering half of his muscular neck, running down to his left shoulder. His jaw looked like it had been chiseled by the gods themselves, strong and rugged, thick stubble running across the lower half of his face.
And hisarms.
