Mystically Bound (Frostbite 3)

“I told Wayde to tell Dane to stay away.” Gretchen glared at Wayde before looking back at me with a softer expression. “Regardless that he clearly ignored me, Dane doesn’t have to be involved and you need their help. They will have answers for Kipp. There is no other way, Tess.”

I did need their assistance—badly—but my mind remained fixated on Dane. “If he doesn’t have to be involved in this, then why is he here?”

She frowned at the enemy. “Why, indeed?”

“Alexander was my family,” Dane retorted with a bite to his voice. “I’m staying in this house until we find answers for him. Deal with it.”

Pulling out of Gretchen’s hand, I shook my arms out, shedding my need to castrate Dane. You’re doing this for Kipp. Besides, what choice did I have now? The promise to Wayde couldn’t be undone, even if now I regretted doing the binding spell. “Fine. You’re here. I can’t change that. But stay the hell out of my way.” I pointed at Dane, hoping my finger looked like a knife ready to slit his throat. “I mean it.”

He scoffed. “Not an issue.”

“We’re grateful,” Amelia interjected with a smile her husband didn’t extend, and tears filled her eyes. “Anything you offer can help us.”

Dane glanced down at her and all the coldness directed at me melted away to a warm expression. While normally I’d have a gooey moment, it boiled my blood to witness their love. Dane had her, I lost Kipp because of him, and he caused my heart to shatter. His happiness infuriated me.

“She’ll find him,” Dane said softly.

Amelia wiped her cheeks and smiled at him, then at me. “I know.”

The sadness drifting along her expression touched a part of me I wanted to hide in Dane’s presence—my kindness. I cursed under my breath, hating I couldn’t be a cold-hearted bitch. “I’ll do what I can, Amelia.” Gratefulness filled her features and I disliked that I couldn’t hate her. I wanted to, simply because she associated herself with Dane. “Where do I start?”

“Dane has felt his presence in the swamp,” Amelia said, continuing to brush the fallen tears off her cheeks. “It's faint, but he still lingers there.”

I sighed at the daunting situation, for more reasons than the obvious. “Do you have any rain boots?”

All notes of misery vanished from Amelia’s face, replaced by an arched lip. “Rain boots?”

At any other time, her bemused expression might amuse me, but the seriousness now erased the funny. “If you expect me to ruin my Jimmy Choos trudging around in a swamp, magical promise or not, the deal is off.”

Amelia considered me a moment, and then looked at Dane. “Get her boots.” At his answering scowl, she gave him a look, making me want to do a fist pump. “Now, Dane.”

His death-look shot to me before he left the room.

Amelia sighed, watching her husband vanish into the hallway, then she turned to me. “You’re a guest in this house. My father would have welcomed you, so I want you to be comfortable. If you need anything, do ask.”

I wanted to point out I didn’t intend to stay in this house, especially if Dane remained. I intended to go find Alexander in the damn swamp, discover who killed him, then get what I needed and get out. But why bother wasting my breath?

Besides, it seemed almost wrong to be cruel to Amelia considering her grief. Perhaps she wouldn’t be an enemy, considering she appeared to be on my side. If Dane pissed me off, I’d send Amelia after him. My advantage was she needed me to find her father. Like the saying goes, payback is a bitch.

If I had my way, Dane would become Amelia’s bitch before I left Louisiana.

Chapter Three

I should’ve stayed inside or refused the idea altogether, with or without the rain boots. The night was eerily dark with no light in the yard except the spotlights pointed at the mansion.

With a sigh, I yanked myself away from the stunning house in all its Victorian beauty, and glanced at the stream of light offered by my flashlight. Gretchen swept her beam of light from left-to-right. Why? I had no idea; she couldn’t see a ghost anyway. Lucky her.

I had to admit, having her next to me was comforting. Like hell, I’d go out into a spooky swamp alone. Gretchen would remain glued to my side, since right now, I didn’t trust anyone here, and the oddest sense of worry engulfed me. Creepy sensations like icy fingertips crawled up my spine. Not a real shock—I never did well with scary places.

As we trudged through the wide open yard, I cursed Amelia’s rain boots. They were slightly too big and not only did my feet slide around, but the tops came up to my knees, since she was an inch or two taller than me. Each step had me clenching my toes to keep the boots in place as they squished into the damp grass below.

“Do you see him?” Gretchen asked.

I glanced away from the grass lit up by my flashlight and focused on her. “Of course not. I can barely see anything.” Turning back to the yard, I scanned through the dark night and inhaled the sweet scents of nature. The house was to my back and the yard was stuffed full of big, healthy trees. But as we drew closer to the swamp, stagnant water made the air less pleasant.

When we reached the edge of the swamp, I stood where the water met the dirt. My flashlight lit up the water, showing tiny fish swimming about. Endless plants surrounded the swamp, all giving off a lovely fresh scent, even if the swamp itself smelled musky. A bullfrog made a low croaking noise somewhere in the water, but being a pitch-black night, I couldn’t see it sitting atop a lily pad.

“Hello,” I called, feeling silly. “Alexander?” I paused a moment, but when only silence greeted me, I added, “If you are out here, why you picked a gross swamp to stay at is totally beyond me.”