Frost Fire

Chapter One

                                                                              Chapter One

Chapter One 

Allai bolted upright in bed and screamed. Her heart pounded, ticking out the moments as she searched her bedroom for danger. But no one was there. 

She gasped in a relieved breath, the cold air grating and scratching against her throat. She swallowed hard and sat there for a long minute, just panting her fear in and out.

Her thoughts fell back to what had happened before she’d been jolted awake. The dream. She groaned and leaned her head back against her headboard. It’d been the dream again.

It was always short—just a glimpse of his claws rushing toward her neck. But somehow it always managed to scare her. Was this the third night in a row she’d had it? The fourth? She’d lost track. But it had been haunting her lately, turning more and more into a nightmare. Although, she’d always told herself it wasn’t a nightmare. She couldn’t call it that, because that’d be admitting that it scared her. No, it was just a memory and a dream. 

Allai closed her eyes, ignoring her pounding heart and fast breaths. Or at least she tried to. His eyes stared back at her in the darkness, nothing but a faint memory, but so unforgettable. Golden, liquid, intense. She wasn’t sure how his eyes could be so intense when they’d been so young, but that was how she remembered them. They had held the determined intensity of her loyal protector.

And her assassin.

She opened her eyes and took a few moments to just stare at the ceiling. She remembered that after ‘the event’, as her father liked to call it, there’d been a tiny splotch of blood on her ceiling. It hadn’t been hers; it’d been dark and definitely belonged to a Demon. But it had still completely freaked her out. She’d made Luke wash over the spot about five times before she was satisfied it was gone, leaving her room to smell like lemon-scent cleaner for weeks. She swore she could still smell lemons sometimes.

A knock came at the door, and she gasped. But what kind of assassin knocks on doors? She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She hadn’t heard footsteps, so it had to be a Demon and not one of the Hunter guards who protected the interior of the Manor. That left only one person who would come to check on her.

“Go away, Luke,” Allai muttered. She didn’t bother raising her voice, knowing he’d hear her just fine. Luke was a Persequor, the species of Demon with the most superior senses. They were also supposedly emotionless, but Luke was definitely moody enough to prove he was an exception.

The door opened. Luke stood there with no shirt, just a pair of jeans haphazardly pulled on. If any other guy had walked into her room dressed like that, her dad would have thrown a fit. And thrown the guy off the roof. But her dad put up with Luke, if only because he had to.

Luke was an employee of the French government, the organization with immediate power over the Sentinel. The Sentinel’s job was to protect humans from Rogue Demons and all types of Mages. Luke’s job was to ensure they didn’t lop off too many heads in the process.

He walked into Allai’s bedroom, not bothering to respond to her. He probably hadn’t heard her. The guy wasn’t a morning person, and it was like, what? She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. The glowing blue numbers read 3:27 a.m. Yeah. Luke would not be in his prime right now.

He collapsed on the edge of her bed. Luke was usually pretty good about judging where objects were, but he missed this time, only his torso and flailed arms making it onto the bed. “Good morning to you, too,” he mumbled.