Page 55 of Jack Frost
"We should stay until she's safely asleep," I tell Jack.
"Of course." He looks stunned and elated at the same time.
"What was that? The story she told?" I whisper. "That wasn't you, was it? Because that would be way too weird, if you saved my life as a baby—"
"No, no. It wasn't me. But it sounds as if your mother gave you up to the gods for dead, and that prayer enabled a couple of ice wraiths to sacrifice their lives for you."
"What?What?" I whisper-scream. "What does that even mean?"
"It's old magic, similar to what Kheima used to transform me," he says. "I don't remember the ritual very well, because I was so sick by the end—but essentially, the individual must be at the point of death, and their life must be yielded to the gods. It used to mean theactualgods—Zeus, Apollo, and all that—but now it's pretty much whoever is left, or whatever supernatural beings happen to be around at the time. When I was transformed, twelve ice wraiths merged with me, giving me their longevity, energy, and powers. It sounds like two or three of them merged with you the night you were born. Gave up their own existence to save your life."
"But—I don't have any powers."
"No, because it was only a couple of wraiths. So you came back to life, but you didn't get powers, or immortality, or any of that. I mean, I don'tthinkyou have immortality. It's impossible to know right now—you're still young. But Emery, this would explain the energy I feel from you, my ability to draw power from your presence. And it explains how you found me that day in Antarctica."
"Explains it? Then why don't I feel enlightened?" I shove myself away from the card table and wander over to the sofa, where I collapse in a heap of overwhelmed brain and tired bones.
Jack sits sideways at the end of the sofa and pulls me between his legs, so my back is against his chest. Immediately I'm humming with nervous sexual energy, my breath shallower and my heart rate quicker because my rear is pressed right against his crotch. I don't know if he took up this position on purpose, to distract me or to cheer me up—but damn is it working.
He kisses the back of my neck, just below the wavy ends of my short hair. My eyes drift shut at the touch of his cool lips on that sensitive skin. "The way Kheima explained it, the magic of both the elemental gods and the original pantheon were linked to emotion. That's why worship was so important to them. When humans forsook the pantheon, the gods' power decreased, and they either left the planet or faded away. But the elementals remained, as I told you, because their magic could also be augmented from the planet itself—its fire, water, air, and earth." His mouth moves to the side of my neck, and I tip my head back, luxuriating in the attention. I deserve this, especially after what he put me through today—unintentionally, but still.
"That's one reason why Auxesia has become so violent," he says. "She chose to consume her sisters' power when they were unwilling to give it, and that negative emotion corrupted the magical energy she absorbed."
"So she made a couple bad choices, and those choices gradually turned her more evil over time."
"Exactly." Jack's palm slides along my waist, over my stomach. "And when she finally sucked away the last vestiges of their power and they faded to wisps, Auxesia took in all of the pain and hate and anger they felt for her."
"What if you were able to drain her negative energy? Not kill her, but take away everything except the last little bit of her power—and then recharge her from natural sources only? Do you think she'd be less antagonistic once she recovered?"
"Maybe. I've never thought of it like that. You see how amazing you are?" He presses a firm kiss to my cheek. "I love you. And I want to make it up to you for today—all this." He nods to our drab surroundings.
"I want to help my mother," I whisper. "I've tried, over and over, in different ways, ever since I was really young. But she won't let me."
"You can't fix people," he replies softly. "You can only love them. And sometimes, when they won't accept help, you have to let them be."
"I know that," I mumble. "Why do you think I've avoided her completely for the past few years? I had to remove the toxicity from my life."
"I'm sorry. If I had known—"
"But you didn't. We don't know much about each other, Jack. This has all been very fast."
He's playing with the button on my pants now, nudging it free. "Too fast?"
"Um, maybe..." I swallow, my hands tightening on his thighs.
He's easing down the zipper. Working his fingers into the space and running a fingernail lightly along the cotton underwear beneath.
My body melts at the touch; but then I go rigid with anxiety. "No, we can't do this here! Are you kidding?" I spring out of his lap, refastening my pants. "I won't do that with you, not here."
"A hotel then?"
"I guess." I feel strangely disappointed, and restless, and sad. This morning I had such high hopes, but as usual, Christmas is an utter disappointment.
Jack's palms sweep across my cheeks, turning my face up to his. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"I wanted Christmas magic," I blurt out. The words are silly and childish, and I'm embarrassed the second they escape.
"I could take you to another city—"
