Jennifer Estep - Kiss of Frost

"Are you sure?" I whispered. "I don't-I don't know what I might see, and I know there are some parts of yourself that you want to stay… hidden. That you have… secrets you want to keep to yourself."

Logan nodded. "I'm sure."

I stared at him. "It'll be okay, I promise. No matter what I see or feel. You'll still be Logan, and I'll still be your Gypsy girl."

He stared back at me, his eyes as bright as blue stars in his rugged, pain-filled face. "I know it will, Gwen. I know it will. Now shut up and kiss me before I pass out."

"Well, when you put it like that, how can a girl possibly resist?" I quipped back.

Before I could think too much about what I was about to do, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

The feelings and images immediately overwhelmed me. Touching Logan, feeling his skin against mine, flashing on him with my magic. It was all just-just- electric . He was so strong, so full of life, so fun and crazy and irrepressible. The Spartan's strength flooded my heart and mind, even as his arms crept around my waist and drew me closer. His spirit gave my own new power, energy, and hope.

Logan's lips were firm against my own, and the kiss was everything I'd ever dreamed it would be. Warm, caring, and sexy. I opened my mouth, and our tongues touched, slowly stroking against each other. For a moment I just let myself enjoy the kiss, just let myself relish the feel of his hot mouth on mine, the feel of his hard, muscled body pressed against mine.

Being this close to Logan made me dizzy and breathless, but I forced myself to focus. I concentrated on the Spartan, going beyond that crazy jumble of desire and longing, and looking for the memories I needed to help us both survive. I could feel Logan concentrating too, trying to call up every bit of his fighting and weapons knowledge and bring it to the surface of his mind, so I'd be able to see it, remember it, use it.

My plan worked.

The memories poured into my mind, and hundreds of images flashed by, one after another. Logan using swords, staffs, spears, and weapons I didn't even know the names for. The Spartan sparring with other Mythos students in gym class and almost always winning. Him battling kids outside of the gym, for real, and winning all of those matches, too.

Even Logan fighting the Nemean prowler in the Library of Antiquities the night Jasmine had tried to kill me. Logan's strength roared to the surface then, along with his ferocity and pride at overcoming something as dangerous as the prowler.

It was like a light snapped on inside my head. Suddenly, I saw everything I'd been doing wrong during our mock fights in the gym. All the sloppy mistakes I'd made, all the obvious weaknesses I had, all the easy ways Logan had been able to "kill" me time after time. And I realized what I had to do to beat Preston, what I had to do to save us both. I was just about to pull away when the memories of Logan fighting faded away, and a different one popped into my head. I should have ended the kiss then, but I didn't. Even though I knew it was wrong of me, I still wanted to see the image. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Logan. I wanted to learn what deep, dark secret he'd been so desperate to hide from me. In this memory, Logan was a little boy, only around five years old. Even back then, he was cute, with big blue eyes and a tousled mop of black hair. But the memory wasn't a happy one-not at all. Logan huddled on the floor of a large closet, hidden in the very back, behind a rack of clothes.

Screams sounded just outside the closed door, and shadows twisted and writhed on the other side of the wide slats. Logan clutched a small metal sword in his hands, but he wasn't using it. He wanted to, though. The urge to run out of the closet made his heart pound, but he was so afraid of the screams, so scared of the shadows, that he felt frozen in place.

The image abruptly shifted and bled into another memory. Logan stood over two bodies, a woman and a girl who was a few years older than he was. His mother and his sister, a voice whispered in my mind. They were dead, their throats cut, and blood covered the floor all around

them, coating their faces. So much blood. Logan still clutched his sword in his hand. Angry, he threw it away, then lay down in between his mother and sister, not caring that he was getting their blood all over him. Tears streaked over his small, pale face, and then, he started to scream. Logan drew back, breaking the kiss, breaking our connection. I would have fallen over, if he hadn't caught me and cradled me in his arms.

"Gwen?" Logan whispered against my cheek. "Are you okay? What did you see?"

I saw why part of you is so sad, I thought. Why you won't let me get close to you, because you once lost the people you cared about the most. But I didn't say the words. I just… couldn't. Not now. Later. We'd… talk about it later. If we had a later.

I shook my head and drew back, looking into his rugged face. "I'll give you this, Spartan. You sure can kiss. Feel free to lay one on me anytime you want to." For a second relief flashed in his eyes-relief that I hadn't discovered his secret. That I hadn't seen the blood and bodies that haunted him so. Then Logan grinned. "Well, I do aim to please," he drawled. "You should see what I can do with my hands. And other parts of my body." I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? You've been cut open like a fish, there's a psycho-killer Reaper after us, and you're still hitting me up for sex?"

Logan shrugged, but the devilish light didn't fade from his gaze. "Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying."

"Right. We'll talk about that later. Now, come on," I said. "I have an idea."

I stood behind the doorway and waited for Preston Ashton to come and kill me.

I didn't have long to wait. I'd barely gotten into position when footsteps scuffled, and a shadow appeared at the far end of the half-finished hallway.

"Gypsy…" Preston's voice echoed through the semidark construction site. "Oh, Gypsy… I'm coming to kill you… "

I gritted my teeth and gripped Vic tighter. I knew Preston was trying to scare me, but I could still hear the crazy in his voice, loud and clear. How had I ever thought he was cute? H e so needed to be locked up in an insane asylum somewhere. Too bad Batman wasn't here to come and drag his ass off to Arkham.

I looked over at Logan, who leaned against one of the walls, hidden in the shadows. The Spartan clutched a loose brick in his hand, the only weapon we'd been able to find in the construction debris, since I'd dropped the hammer earlier. I nodded at him, and he nodded back. Showtime.

"Here goes nothing," I whispered.

"Cut him to bits!" Vic crowed. "And feed me the pieces! It's been a long time since I've dined on Reaper blood." Underneath my palm, the sword's lips smacked together in anticipation.

"Let's just hope I win. Now, shut up, Vic. I need to concentrate."

I drew in a breath and stepped out into the hallway, so Preston could see me.

The Reaper spotted me at once, and a mocking smile curved his lips.

"Coming out in hopes that I'll kill you quick? I hate to disappoint you, but that's not going to happen, Gypsy. Not now."

He stepped closer, and I realized that blood covered the lower half of his face. I must have done more damage with that hammer than I'd thought. Preston's nose had swelled up to twice its normal size, and black and purple streaks radiated out from it like sunbeams.

But his eyes were what really creeped me out. They glowed a wicked, wicked red. It looked like someone had filled Preston's eyes with dozens of matches and then lit them all at once. Crimson flames danced in his gaze, burning so hot and bright I thought he might just shoot fire out of his eyeballs and fry me where I stood.