Of Frost & Cinder (Old Version)

Control

"Considering what, exactly?" She snaps.

"I really don't think I have to say it, do I?" Threatening a werewolf isn't exactly what I'd call a smart thing to do, but the coal is beginning to singe the inside of my fist again. What happens if the trapped heat ignites the fire again? I can't shoot a ball of flame at a full house of werewolves. I might as well offer myself as sacrifice to their moon goddess for a bountiful harvest.

Val snarls, the corner of her lips stretching up to bare her teeth. "I'm going to kill that kid. Bloody kill him."

"Please, just help me."

"God, I hate children." She mumbles, black bangs swishing above her yellow eyes as she cranes her neck. As she scans around the bar, I think she's going to call security on me. But then Val surprises me by standing. She whispers low beneath her breath, "Follow me, and do not speak."

As soon as she takes off toward the back of the bar, I trail right behind her. She takes me through the familiar back hallway and past the service window where the cook eyes us suspiciously through the kitchen.

I keep walking forward, expecting to be led to the back lot—where Beck first told me about Olivian and the Blood Oath—when Val stops abruptly and I slam into her backside.

"Ugh! Watch it!" She snaps, brushing off her leather pants as if I had pushed her into a pile of dirt.

"What are we doing?"

Val flicks her chin sideways, directing my sight toward the dark green door to my left. She already has her long fingers pushing it open before I can protest to entering the dark opening.

"In here," she points, waiting for me to step forward.

The entrance is wafting with that damp, almost moldy, concrete odor. It's so dimly lit that there's barely enough light to see that there's a staircase below. Despite my resistance, Val shoves me toward the basement, keeping one hand on my back as we navigate the seemingly endless steps.

Laughter rumbles through the air when we flood into the foyer. There's a single ceiling light dangling from the wood rafters, and although it's better lit in here than in the stairwell, it's still too hard for me to make out anything more than outlines.

"To your right," Val grunts behind me. I feel her grip twisting my body clockwise and once I hear the creak of another door opening, she gives me another shove into the blinding light. The laughter heightens in volume as we walk through the entrance, and immediately I lay my eyes upon the backs of multiple men, all huddled around one of those square fold-up tables I've seen used for a drinking game at the only alcohol-inclusive party I've ever been to.

Most of the men are sitting in mismatched plastic lawn furniture, save the poor soul on the end uncomfortably resting on a stack of cinderblocks.

"You damn bloody cheat, Aram! I know you're countin' cards again!" The guy on the cinderblocks jumps up, pointing angrily at the man diagonal to him. "Y'all saw that, right?!"

The guy, presumably Aram, kicks his seat out from under him in his outburst. "You think I'd cheat after what happened last time? I nearly lost my goods having to take a lap in that freezing lake! Like hell I'll do it again!"

"You weasely son of a bitch! Don't be making a liar outta me!" He digs his nails into the edge of the table, shoulders trembling with rage.

"Tripp! Aram! Quit acting like animals!" Val brushes past me, her back visible as she swishes her leather-clad legs towards the boys. "We have company."

She places a tattooed hand a top Aram's shoulder before disappearing behind the shadowed section of the table.

One by one, each man cranes their neck around, and suddenly I feel like I'm seven again, frozen on stage beneath the beaming hot spotlights. They all just stare at me through strange, metallic eyes, and by their curious expressions, I'm sure they can hear my heart fluttering like frightened bird.