Unearthly Frost

©2000 Madz aka Kinetica/Mazzler

Genre: Romance/Action/Thriller

Sex Content: R

Violence Content: R

Language Content: R

Characters: X-MEN/Blade Crossover - X-Men Characters, Kloud, Deacon Frost

Chapter 1

I had the vague feeling of someone following me. Hollow steps that weren’t human but weren’t of my kind either. Deciding that this creature may be interesting I led them to a building next to where I was temporarily staying. For I was never in one spot for long…permanence was a dangerous thing for me.

They were indeed following me and as I stopped at the entrance to my abode I could feel their presence only a few feet behind me. Their obvious ignorance was some consolation to me, even though I did not fear even the most ruthless of humans. They stepped into a pool of lamplight and I smirked…definitely not a human.

“Are you the one they call Kloud?”

“Yes, though it really does depend on who’s inquiring…”

“Of course,” he replied, extending his hand. This mortal knew my name and yet showed no fear. I was intrigued by his bravery and shook his hand briefly.

“What is your business with me, Mr. Summers?”

He seemed slightly shocked by my mention of his name—but he quickly recovered his nerves. “I—we need your help.”

“We?” I in turn questioned—not sensing any other beings near. Not until his eyes glanced upward. He had blown his cover, without another thought I grabbed his neck and disappeared into the building with him. Running through the ruined apartment building I reached the stairs that led down into the basement. Knowing my ex-compatriots and I had built a tunnel that led into my house from there—I toted along Mr. Summers effortlessly.

He was struggling vainly and I held him firmly, his boots scraping against the floor every time he slipped in my grasp. Flying through the crude tunnel I was soon stepping into my house—lighted and with someone sitting in my living room.

Angry at the intrusion I clutched my prisoner’s neck roughly, drawing a slight grunt from him and labored gasps for air. “Get the fuck out of my house or he become my dinner,” I demanded, spitting the words at the man whom looked surprisingly calm and comfortable on my couch.

The man shrugged, his broad shoulder lifting a bit before his chest heaved with the exhalation of his breath, “No skin off my back.” I had instinctively withdrawn from the lamplight that flooded most of the living room…wanting to keep a vale of mystery.

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have sneaked into my house,” I replied coarsely, my voice low and cautious. The man nodded slowly, his dark eyes shimmering slightly in the light. He ran two thick hands through his disheveled black hair and looked at me with amusement.

“Do you want to hear why we came—or just kill us?” His tone was coated in false bravado—the fear his pours leaked was obvious. “It makes no difference to me, Logan, and as much as you hate Cyclops here you’d still have to take the blame for his death. Yet another death added to the long list of mutants and humans you’ve dismembered with those claws of yours.”

He stared at me blankly, his mouth a thin line of pensive understanding. “Oh yes, you’d love for me to kill this pretty boy so you could have Jean all to yourself…” “Shut up,” he was on his feet now, an angry hand pointing at me.

Knowing he wouldn’t dare start after me I continued. “Sorry to burst your bubble but she’d be more devoted then ever to him. Mourning his loss and waiting for the day that she could join him in that non-existent afterlife which you idiots so readily count on for consolation from the harsh and inescapable reality of death."

Logan was frozen; the only sound he could possibly hear was the heavy breathing of a weakening Scott Summers. But I, on the other and, could hear his heart beat, see the blood rushing through his veins as well as the drum-like beat of Scott’s terrified heart.

“Tell me your business, if I like it I let him go—if not, consider yourself dessert.” He nodded, placing his hands on his hips and chewing on his lip thoughtfully. Sitting back down on my worn couch he leaned forward with a sigh and let his arms rest on his thighs.

“Scott and I are X-Men. We’ve learned of a capture of a rather famous singer. Normally we’d leave this kind of thing to the police—but the problem is that this singer is a mutant, he doesn’t know it, but he is,” the shoulders of his hunched for tensed.

“This mutant is extremely powerful—and we know that this singer is unaware of his unused powers but that his capture is well aware of those powers. Powers capable of world destruction.”

He was quiet then, his eyes studying something random on the floor. My eyes locked on him and I realized I must have appeared as a statue to him—alabaster white with stony features that had settled from my deep thinking.

“Where do I come in?” The words didn’t even feel like they left my lips but I heard them in the still air around the three of us. “The captor—is,” his fear increased and his heart rate jumped a bit, “is Deacon Frost.”

I felt the silence envelop the room and squeeze me tightly—so tightly I feared it would leave me completely without breath. My eyes fixed on the floor, remembrance of feelings and emotions from my ex-lover flooding my body. The icy touches, the lifeless yet passionate eyes and the deadly kisses of Deacon Frost surfaced—he was still my fantasy. Though I had captured his dead heart long ago and broke it years after I still thought of him as a dream…a dark vampire prince capable of so much pain and love at the same time.

But he had used me—and I broke him equally for the action…emotionally ripping his heart out and stomping on it…purposely I had him catch me romancing one of his closest friends. After that I had left him so quickly it was a blur—vowing never to think on him again.

The proposition was absurd—and how I would be useful was completely beyond my comprehension. “What do you want me to do? Kill him? That I could never do…”

“No,” Logan was up on his feet again; a mutant or otherworldly creature could only make that a swift move. “No,” he repeated a little bit more softly as he approached me slowly.

“We just need you to distract him while we get the prisoner—just for a few hours or so,” Logan explained, his eyes gleaming with hope and wonder as he came only feet from me. I held onto Scott firmly and glanced down at the still struggling mutant.

“No, I won’t do it. Frost has caused me enough pain—nothing could make me go back to him.” My mind was made up; Frost was a distant dream—something that only came to me in dreams and visions. I let go of Scott, forgetting my deal with Logan.

I pushed the frightened mutant towards his partner and stood still. Tossing the idea over in my head the more impossible and absurd it became. “You think it would be easy for me to see him again? The man I loved for years, he made me what I am—he taught me all I know about the real world. No, no a thousand times no.”

With that I was still again, my eyes focused on the two curious men a few feet from me. “Please, you’re our only hope—we know very little about vampires, we’d fail for certain,” Scott managed, still grabbing at his throat and feeling the welts I had left.

I shrugged, my eyes passing over the duo again, “It is not my problem if Frost has world domination in mind…I’m still a vampire—he wouldn’t dare touch me. If he wanted to torture me he wouldn’t have let me leave his coven. Yet here I am, he won’t touch me—I’m not at risk or threatened by his crazy plans.”

Logan sighed heavily, thinking that this was hopeless. At the time it was, I wanted nothing to do with Frost because he, like me, was still bitter about the ordeal. Seeing him would reopen wounds I had left to heal for years—I wouldn’t risk slicing them open and giving them air again.

“There’s money involved,” Logan blurted out, his eyes large and filled with hope. I laughed outright, “What use do I have for your money? If I need it I can take it from my victims—I have no stomach for money.”

That was somewhat of a lie, I did enjoy spending money and furnishing my nice flat with rich and expensive things. Still, their money wouldn’t drive me to Frost—nothing would.

For the first time, Logan approached me completely, standing a few inches from me with his hands wringing each other. “Kloud, we need your help, please, for the good of everyone else on this planet forget your selfishness and help us stop Frost.”

He dared call me selfish? I stared up into his warm hazel eyes and chilled over. The hair on my neck began to stand on end from his gaze but mine was equally chilling. Icy blue orbs stared back at him from stony feminine features topped with short, spiky blonde hair and my expression let on none of the embarrassment I felt.

Sighing, I looked away from his rugged face and found the floor inviting for the time, scanning the rich maroon carpeting for a few seconds. “Very well, but I expect to be paid well and that whatever I need to have happen be granted. The success of this mission depends entirely on Frost’s distraction, correct?”

Both Logan and Scott replied affirmatively. “Then I’ll need you to find out the name of Frost’s current lady-love and of course the address to wherever it is he’s living now.”

I sat in the backseat of Scott’s forest green Ford Explorer with the undeniably handsome Logan. We spoke in hushed tones of my past with Frost. I was in no way embarrassed about the time I had spent with the vampire entrepreneur; in fact I was proud of how I had held up against his many enemies.

“But you said he used you, how?”

The sigh that escaped my lips was obvious and I avoided Logan’s penetrating gaze. Finding his face again I smirked, “Well, I had begged him to make me into a vampire. And he wouldn’t have done it unless there was a higher pay-off…he’s horribly selfish. I wouldn’t be a vampire today had he not seen something greater then just my physical appearance.

“After he had gained my trust and vice versa he began to use me as bait. I would lure his enemies near—seducing them, making them want me. Frost would then have an easy opportunity to kill or capture them. I was oblivious to the obvious role I was playing in this little game…to me it was fun…until one of his friend’s pointed it out.

“When I approached Frost about it he didn’t deny it—which was infuriating. We had been together as an item for years then. You see to a vampire a year is much like a human month—our time scale is much different from a human’s because of our immortality. Realizing that he had been using our romance as a way to lock me into him and keep me to be used I quickly repulsed his affection by cheating on him.”

Logan sat silently drinking in my quick and soft way of speaking. It was stronger than a whisper but not loud enough to be a conversational tone. “So it was that quick? You got caught in bed with this guy and bam! You’re out of the circle?”

I sighed, biting on my lip slightly, “Not exactly. He simply told me that he wished I would leave and that I was free to do so--I left readily, not wanting to be in the company of his friends or his foes. I had had enough of he and his cold, dark world.”

After those sentiments, the ride to the school where these two mutants lived was completely silent. I gazed out of the window and watched the trees flying by the window as we raced along in Scott’s Explorer.

When we reached the school it was late and most of the students were already asleep. However, the adult population was wide-awake and waiting for the return of the mutants in an underground laboratory area.

As the three of us entered there was a general sigh of relief heard among the mutants. A man in a sleek wheel chair with a broad grin approached me. “Miss Kloud, thank you so much for coming this evening…”

I nodded shortly, quickly sizing up the others in the room. A strong, well built woman with stark white hair and dark skin; a bemused, handsome man with glowing red eyes and auburn hair; a nervous looking woman with red hair and a slight figure; the previously mentioned bald man in a wheel chair and my two captors.

“I’d like to introduce you to the X-Men, your team for this mission,” the bald man waved his hand in the direction of the condensed group of people. They smiled at me shyly and my look remained stony.

I realized that I was standing in the shadow of some laboratory equipment. I preferred shadows because they allowed me more mystery and privacy then the light from the halogen bulbs overheard that would showcase my corpse-like pale skin and water-blue eyes.

“Has anyone gotten my, um, box from the car?” I asked, ignoring his attempt to acquaint me with his team of mutants. The bald man with keen eyes and a perceptive manner nodded slowly, “Where would you like it to be kept? If you would like you can have it put into the rooms of one of these mutants, locked and guarded by them sporadically—or down here.” He motioned to the walls around us and I thought hard.

“Who is most capable of keeping it safe? It is imperative that no one opens it.” I stressed the word imperative—I didn’t fully trust these mutants yet, and though I knew they needed my help I was naturally unsure of their true intentions.

The man, who was keeping his thoughts blocked from me skillfully, glanced around at his mutant friends. “Any of these mutants would do a fine job. Though if there are any that do not have classes to teach tomorrow…”

The mutant with auburn hair spoke up quickly, “I do not, Professor, I can do it if you like.” His voice was thick with an accent…Cajun perhaps? Yes, his smirk was infectious and upon scanning his thoughts my intuitions were proved true. An orphaned Cajun with incredibly clouded thoughts.

“Very well then, Gambit, if it is all right with Miss Kloud…?” The professor eyed me curiously and I nodded slowly, eyeing the Cajun attentively. The smirk on the red eyed mutant grew to a smile and at once I felt his attraction to me. Knowing that getting involved with any of these people would be a mistake I followed him to his room cautiously.

“You gon’ta help us get this Frost guy?” He inquired as we made our way to his room. “Indeed, I will try my very best, Frost is not one to be tricked easily, but I shall do my best.” I revealed reluctantly, passing under a lamp and catching a glimpse of the skin of my hand—pale and cut by the many veins that showed from under my translucent skin.

Reaching his quarters I sighed lightly, inhaling the familiar scent of cigarettes as I retreated into his bathroom to wash up and try to think of something suitable to sleep in. After several moments I heard a loud thud come from the attached bedroom. In a swift, graceful motion I was at the door and watching Gambit position the coffin parallel to his bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I called to him, dragging a towel across my face that was drenched in cool, relieving water. I had slipped a tight, cropped tank top over my slight form and kept on my light, baggy white pants.

Stepping back into the room I smiled at him faintly, “Thank you, I know it is unreasonably heavy…” He waved me off, acting as though it was nothing when I could feel the sore muscles radiating from under his skin.

His eyes were intriguing, the red glowing up at me from midnight black sclera. I realized his eyes were not only intriguing, but also moving over every inch of my body. Glancing down quickly I noticed that my body was responding naturally to the chill of the room and I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

“How do I appear to you? Magical with my white skin, inhibition and immortality?” I questioned crossly, feeling invaded by his piercing gaze. He shrugged his broad shoulders, a smirk pulling at his lips roofed by light stubble that was also found allover his face.

“A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman, right chere?” If his voice and demeanor hadn’t been so infectious I would have scoffed and thought up something witty to say. But with dawn approaching and my sly mood fading with inevitable exhaustion I let him have the last word.

Pulling the heavy lid open on my coffin I shot him a warning glance, “I swear on everything unholy that if you so much as touch this lid with intentions of opening it I will personally rip your head off and shove it up your ass, understood?”

His nervous eyes locked on mine as he nodded fervently. “Good, and that goes for anyone else that enters this room.” With that, I slipped into the comforting, familiar feeling of my coffin and shut my eyes.

The smell of his cigarettes lingered inside—for a moment I swore they smelled like the menthol flavored brands Frost smoked. I pushed the thought away; not wanting to think about Frost until I absolutely had to—which was far too soon.

Chapter 2

Pushing the heavy lid of my coffin upward I felt cool and glorious night air filter into my long, wooden sanctuary. I sat up, stretching my arms over my head and pulling the lid along side of the coffin I stood and put my feet to the cold, wooden floor.

Gambit dozed on his bed, a book open on his chest and his hands clasped over it. Silently, I crept over to him and studied the cover of the book; a noiseless giggle escaped my lips as my eyes scanned over the title “Zen Sex: The Way of Making Love.” Thinking of how one-track minded most men turned out to be I left his bedside and entered the bathroom.

After stripping I locked the door, not wanting Gambit to interrupt my evening ritual. I turned on the shower to an excruciatingly cold temperature and shivered gleefully as the arctic water rushed over my body.

I was even paler than the evening before, my veins screamed “feed!” and I would gladly oblige them. After I had shampooed my short, blonde hair and scrubbed my skin briefly I redressed in the clothing I had worn the night before—making a mental note to buy or steal some new outfits that night.

As I clicked off the light in the bathroom Gambit stirred and sat up on the bed. Realizing what book he had been reading he shoved it under the covers quickly, hoping I hadn’t noticed. “Good evening,” I said quietly, a smile playing on my lips from his embarrassment, “good book?”

His cheeks turned a shade of crimson I had never seen before and he shrugged, trying to recover some lost pride, “Wolverine recommended it.” His lie was amusing and I nodded slowly, “I’m sure he did.” I retreated back into the bathroom for a final look in the mirror and scowled, not having any make up to apply.

“I’m going out, I’ll be back soon,” I remarked nonchalantly, crawling onto his desk and pushing the window open. “You can use the door if you like, chere.” I laughed and silently unhooked the screen, leaving it on his desk for him to put back on after I had gone. “It’s quieter this way, if you fall asleep and hear me knocking I’m locked out.”

He nodded, walking to the desk as he eyed me suspiciously, “Don’t go killin’ some student, there’s a town one mile east of here…” I nodded, smiling at him, “Thank you…good night, Gambit.” I slipped from the window and into the rich night air.

The air was thick with the smell of dew and the damp soil combining. Few lights were on in the mansion and I slipped away from the campus unnoticed, vaulting the rot-iron gate and landing effortlessly outside the confines of the school.

I returned to the school nearly two hours later, my skin pink with the blood I had just had—two obliging twin brothers who I had found trying to rape a high school student. My preferences were criminals or despicable folk—feeling that I had done the world some good by ridding it of them.

After rescuing the girl she had been happy to lend me money in return for my services. She was terrified yet happy that her pride had been salvaged. With the money I had bought a few new clothing items and some make up necessities.

I returned to Gambit’s room, knocking quietly on the windowsill. Within a few seconds he was at the window and prying the screen off for me. I climbed in quietly and thanked him in a whisper, throwing the bag of make up and bundle of clothing onto the lid of my coffin.

“Is the professor awake?” I asked, walking into the bathroom to apply some make up. “He has been all night, what do ya need da make up for?” I smirked at him, seeing his reflection in the mirror.

Brushing black powder over one of my eyelids I watched with my open eye, “If I want to impress Frost I’ll have to look decent. I don’t want him thinking that I’ve gone sorry these years away from him…”

Gambit nodded slowly, watching me apply make up with a bemused expression. I could tell he was more interested in my skin, watching the way it shimmered in the bright lamplight. Running a little gel through my air and swiping it over my head I turned around, finished.

“I suppose it’s off to the laboratory then to greet everyone and get this doomed show on the road,” I said reluctantly, passing by him in the doorway. He turned and watched me stuffing things into the coffin.

“Can you help me carry this to the car?”

He laughed outright, crossing his arms over his trench coat clad chest, “We don’t be needin’ the car, chere.”

“And why’s that?”

“We be takin’ the jet, Frost’s in New York City and it’d be day by the time we reached him by car…”

I nodded slowly, “Then we’ll need to bring it to the jet.” Coming over to the box he helped me lift its heavy wood body and carry it to the hidden elevators that led down into the laboratory.

Reaching the lower levels we carried the coffin into the hall and set it down, seeing that the rest of the X-Men were already there. I stood up from setting down the box and placed my hands on my hips—catching the eye of Wolverine who was standing a bit aside from the others.

“Are you ready, Miss Kloud?” Professor Xavier inquired, watching me watch Wolverine. “Indeed,” I replied turning to Gambit who was standing in the same manner as I but with a smile replacing my grimace.

“Very well, Wolverine, Cyclops, take the coffin to the jet while I debrief her on exactly what needs to happen.”

The entire mission was happening so fast that I felt horribly unprepared. Not knowing whether or not I was emotionally fit to see Frost I sighed, walking over to the professor slowly and standing a few inches from him. He handed me a folder with a bold X on the cover and I opened it quickly.

I scanned the contents, a map of Frost’s current lair—not very different from the one I had lived in for years. Pictures of his current love interest…which was actually very surprising. “Kerenza MacQueen?” I whispered, looking at the stark and beautiful vampire woman who was only a few years older than I was.

The professor watched me studying her pictures with a slight scowl. “I know her, she’s one of those vampire girls that gets handed on to big execs like a hand bag—I never thought Frost would sink so low.” I realized I had been speaking aloud and instantly regretted the words.

I looked up into the professor’s eyes and gave him a half-smile, “I’m actually much older in vampire years than she is…it will be quite easy to get her out of the way.” Meaning kill her, which was an odd notion I thought—these X-Men seemed so bent on peace but they had no objection to my killing an innocent bystander.

Thinking over the matter I realized I would really only need to slit her throat—she would have terrible blood loss and be in complete shock…it may kill her but most likely only make her black out for some time. Deciding on that approach I requested a knife from him.

After reading over the rest of the mission and seeing that my end of it was very straight forward I shut the folder and handed it back to him. “I’ll give you the knife when we reach New York—any size that you need?”

“Small,” I replied, turning my back to him and heading for the door that led to the holding bay of the Blackbird—their jet. When I stepped inside I was taken aback by the jet’s appearance for a moment—it was sleek and completely black except for a red tinted windshield.

I ran to the ramp that led into the aircraft and boarded, only to be followed by the professor. The inside of the jet was just as high-tech and slick as the exterior. Panels with buttons and controls lined the cockpit two rows of chairs took up the remainder of the space.

I spied my coffin in the back of the jet and a feeling of relief came over me, knowing that at least that one thing of home was with me. After marveling at the inside of the jet for a few more minutes I took a seat across from Wolverine, who was complaining about the leather outfit all of the X-Men were wearing.

“You’re so damn lucky you don’t have to wear one of these things,” he mumbled, throwing an angered look in my direction. “You’re so damn lucky you don’t have to encounter Deacon Frost tonight,” I replied with an equal amount of anger.

Our seats were the last row of chairs and he stared at me for a few more long minutes. “Do you still love him?” My eyes jumped up from the spot on the floor where they had been and burned into his, “What do you think?”

I sounded overly upset and he struggled with his next words, “I think you do—if you didn’t you wouldn’t be so nervous about seeing him again.” The nerve of this brash mutant was making me tingle with rage but I calmed myself slowly.

“Watch your tongue, mutant man, I could just as easily walk away from this mission now if I was so inclined—so spare me the attitude.” I spat at him, my blue eyes glowing with the hatred I felt just then—not just for him—but for the rest of the world. It was unfair that I had to encounter Frost again—he had broken my heart so completely that I had hoped never to see his face again.

Wolverine noticed me deep in thought, my eyes half shut and my body perfectly still. I felt my eyes reddening with tears—I was going to see Frost that very night and it would be hell. But at the same time I was anxious—wanting to know if I still had that same power over him I had once had.

Finally, after a brief jet ride, which was actually rather smooth, we reached a building that Professor Xavier had reserved for us to land on. He addressed us all one final time before we were to leave the building and head next door.

“Wolverine, I want you to follow Kloud and watch over her—if Frost tries to hurt her you step in. Cyclops, Gambit and Storm will find the mutant and bring him back safely while Jean will stay here with me monitoring your transmissions.

“Transmissions?” I asked, studying the professor.

He nodded slowly, pointing to a raised X detail on Cyclops’ leather suit, “When he touches that he can speak with every other person—each mutant has a small communicator and an ear plug to hear the transmissions.”

I nodded slowly in understanding, glancing around at the anxious mutants. “Very well then, good luck to all of you.” He finished, opening his arms to us as if to bid us farewell. Wolverine followed close behind me as we walked down the stairs and into the building—we still had to get through this building and into the next.

“You don’t need to ride my ass yet, we’re not even near Frost,” I huffed, trying to speed up, away from him. “Right,” he replied gruffly, giving me a little space along with an apprehensive glance. “Oh and while I’m with Frost, try not to gawk—the things I might do may not be extremely pleasant to watch…” He was silent after that remark, knowing what it meant and what it entailed.

After several minutes of riding elevators and descending stairs we came to the door that led out from the office building we had landed on. Cyclops, who was first in the group of us, asked if everyone was ready and knew what they had to do. There was a general affirmative answer from the congregation and with that we split up and headed out of the building.

Chapter 3

I could feel Wolverine breathing down my neck as he and I watched Kerenza MacQueen leave Frost’s bedroom and enter the hall of the futuristically furnished building Frost had bought. I stepped out of the shadow of the drinking fountain nook and stood in the center of the hall.

“Excuse me, Miss MacQueen, a word?”

Her impatient, hazel eyes peered back at me from long, dark tresses that covered her head and brushed her shoulders. “Who are you?”

I smirked, placing my hands behind my back and slowly removed the small knife that the professor had given me from my back pocket. “I was wondering if you’d been feeling well lately, I have a remedy for pale skin…”

She cocked her head to the side slightly, quickly moving forward so that she was only feet from me. “And what’s that?” Her voice was twittering like a bird, but cold as a vampire’s always was. My crystal blue eyes locked on hers and a smile pulled at my silver dusted lips.

“Leeches suck blood,” I whispered directly, grabbing her wrist and showing her the knife. Her eyes grew wide with fear and a scream was about to rip from her but not before I had swiped the sharp blade across her marble white throat.

She grabbed for her neck and fell to the floor as blood splattered from the fall and then pooled quickly from the gaping wound. “And I drink it,” I spat at her as I kicked her head a few times, rage and jealousy sweeping over me as I attacked her. Finally, she was blacked out for certain and I motioned to Wolverine, still crouched in the shadows.

My heart was pounding in my head from the blood that was all around me, glancing down I quickly crouched and dipped a finger in the round pool of blood on the floor and licked it off…a motion so quick Wolverine had barely seen it. The quick spot of blood soothed my nerves and I smiled placidly. “Let’s go.”

Wolverine was still watching me with wide eyes, perhaps intrigued by the violent rage that had just encased me. Ignoring him I carefully and silently approached the door to Frost’s room. Putting an ear to the door I could hear him pacing within—thinking that he could probably already sense my presence I put up the strongest mental blocks I had against his telepathy.

Telling Wolverine to do the same I motioned for him to stay at the door and that if I screamed ‘Wolverine’ to then and only then come to my aid. He agreed and leaned against the doorframe, wishing me luck as I opened the door…surprisingly it was unlocked.

I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with air and hoping that Frost would cooperate. Instantly I was met with the familiar smell of his spicy cologne and mint cigarette stench. My eyes scanned the room quickly, trying to spot him before he spotted me.

He was at his computer, as he often was during the evening, and I smirked—remembering the times we had played Vampire Hunter on his computer. Forgetting the sentimental shit I glanced down at my ensemble. I undid the buttons on my black button down shirt and let the cool air of the room caress the skin exposed.

My platform sandals clapped quietly on his floor as I walked slowly towards the desk that was pushed against the far wall, next to the large, silver coffin. He hadn’t looked up from the screen, though I know he was aware of me.

“Frost, my love, has it been so long that you don’t recognize my walk?” That turned his head, his spiky hair leaping out allover his scalp. Icy blue eyes stared back at me—wonder and curiosity jumping out at me from their cold depths.

“Kloud, I should’ve known you’d be back at my door one day…”

“It’s not what you think,” I replied coyly, placing my hands on my hips and shifting my weight to one side.

He watched me silently, his lips pursed and his head tilted slightly to the side. Turning in his chair, the swivel made a soft squeaking sound and then there came a gentle clap as his expensive Italian leather shoes hit the white tiled floor.

His eyes traveled up the tight white cargo pants I had bought that were snug on my formed legs and road low on my hips. He looked at my stomach, white and looking as though it had been carved from marble in the likeliness of the stone women that played in the fountains of Venice. His eyes raised to the black satin bra that clung to my chest and caused a gentle v of cleavage. Finally, when he reached my face our eyes met for the first time in over five years.

“Where have you been?” He was faking coldness, and I could sense the hidden tenderness that his voice carried. I shrugged, taking a few steps closer to him, “Rome, London, Chicago, New York.” I replied, recalling the many cities I had made my home since our last meeting.

Chiseled, handsome features dusted in stubble from a dislike of shaving and defined cheekbones feigned indifference from seeing me—I could read his excitement and curiosity easily. “Shit Frost, you won’t even give me a hug?”

He chuckled lightly, a laugh that once use to frighten me—but now only made me smile. I suppose I had grown since our relationship, I found happiness and enjoyment in things that once scared me, where I had once been a girl I was now a woman.

Standing from his rolling desk chair he straightened his back and I could hear the faint sound of vertebrae readjusting to his new stance. Fitted olive slacks and a high-collared white shirt, Versaci no doubt, adorned his strong body. He wasn’t the largest vampire, but he was stronger than most—though he looked about twenty-five he was around one hundred in vampire years.

As he approached me my senses tightened, I remembered why I had fallen in love with him so deeply in the first place, he was undeniably sexy. He stood about a foot from me and simply looked at me, the light coming from his eyes intensifying.

“I like the hair,” he whispered, gently touching a group of blonde strands that jutted from my forehead. “Thanks,” I replied softly, inhaling the strong scent of his presence. “Kerenza MacQueen, huh?” I asked, finding his gaze and holding it.

Embarrassment flickered over his features but quickly disappeared, “What do you care?” His voice chilled me but I hid the urge to shudder. “I just never thought she was your type,” I replied, stepping away from him to explore his room.

Turning in the direction I had started he grunted lightly, “And just what IS my type? You?” He laughed then, a sinister, increasingly loud chuckle that made my spine tingle. “I didn’t mean me, I just meant in general—she seems too…too needy.”

Frost shrugged and kept his eyes on me as I walked slowly around the perimeter of the room, looking at various sculptures or pieces of unique furniture that were there. Finally, I came to the large, silver coffin that I had once slept in with him. I ran my fingers along the cool stainless steel metal and sighed.

“You were with Louis?”

The question surprised me and I stopped in mid-touch, my eyes flying up to meet his. “Yes, I was with him—we met up in Rome and stayed there for a year or so together. He really is excellent company,” I replied softly, growing fainter as the memories of my time with Louis, a very famous and very old vampire, came back to me.

“He still have that hair?” I smirked at the question, Louis, who had been born and raised in Louisiana and had very long brown hair, had been turned into a vampire in his twenties which was around 1791, but still had retained his handsome features.

“Yes, he still has the hair,” I replied, again in a soft tone. There were a few moments of silence as my eyes drank in the futuristic style and comfort that Frost had made his trademark.

“What do you want?” Frost suddenly asked, his arms now crossed over his chest. I turned to look at him from my spot in front of his coffin and stood still, as he was, we were two living statues in a room full of abstract inanimate ones.

“In a word?” I questioned, knowing that he liked things put simply.

“If at all possible…”

This was the true test, if I could deceive him initially then I would most likely have little problem deceiving him for hours. My powers had grown stronger, my mind shields most likely just as strong as his were, but I still doubted my ability to lie to him.

“You.”

This surprised him, only slightly, and a smile spread slowly across his stony face. He tipped his head to the side and moved his hands to his hips, nodding casually and moving towards me. Stopping a foot or so from me he reached out slowly and cupped my cheek in his hand.

The dam I had built in my head to harbor my emotions buckled and a red tear rolled over the lip of my eye, sped down my cheek and kissed his palm. His skin was rather cold but the warmth that was implied left me speechless as I shut my eyes against the many tears that wanted to show.

I sniffled and pushed his hand away gently, “God, here I am trying to impress you and I end up crying like a fucking baby,” I sputtered out, avoiding his gaze and wiping off the red trail the tear had left on my cheek.

He was silent, watching me as though he was completely detached, my problems weren’t his and thus they didn’t matter…ever. A smile formed slowly on his lips as I backed away from him a little, only to find myself leaning back against the cool, silver metal of his coffin.

“You’re trying to impress me, why?”

“You’re trying to impress me, why?” Never before had he spoken so softly to me and I shuddered, beginning to lose my cool. Breathing deeply I built myself up and shrugged slowly, keeping a weary eye on him. “I’m always trying to impress,” I said softly, reaching out and running two fingers down the inside of his shirt’s lapel, “I’ve always wanted you to want me.”

He tipped his head to the side slightly, moving forward at my touch and grabbing my wrists, stationing my hands on his chest. “Is that so?” His voice was nothing but a whisper, most likely loud enough for only a vampire to hear. “Mm,” I nodded, inhaling the rush of mixed scents that came with his close presence.

“And why should I want you? Cheating bitch,” he spat, pushing me back against the coffin and turning his back on me. I panicked, not expecting the sudden outburst. He enraged me, he always had, but behind that horrible exterior was someone capable of love—and capable of vulnerability.

I made no attempt to move and stayed crumpled against the coffin, my eyes traveling from the floor to his still form slowly. He stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed his lair, a proud air to his stance. “Frost, you know I only did it because of how you used me—we’re even.”

He didn’t respond--he stayed motionless with his back to me and his hands gripping his waist. Searching my brain for the right words to say, my lip beginning to tremble from the urgency I felt.

“I didn’t want to do it, Frost, you know I love you—I always have,” I said quietly, my voice low and submissive, not wanting to aggravate him further. Still there was no response from him. Realizing that everyone called him Frost, and how truly cold and without feeling the name was I switched my focus.

“After being away for years, after knowing all types of men and vampires, no one has compared to the times I shared with you. However much you used me, or whatever quarrels we had—it was worth it,” my voice was shaking, nervous from what lay on the line. “Don’t be bitter over something that’s in the past, everything is in the past, I can forget what you did, if you can forget my mistakes. Can you forgive me,” I paused, my eyes burning into the back of his head, “Deacon?”

The air hung heavy with the intense anxiety I felt, not knowing if I had said the write thing or if he would respond to that, either. Using his first name must have done something to him and his head turned, looking to the right.

Finally, he looked over his shoulder at me and I saw for the first time sadness and regret in his eyes. Turning to face me, our eyes locked and the blues melted together, fusing and creating a path for our feelings to pass through freely.

“Kloud,” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound of my name. I watched him, eager for him to say something or go on, but he didn’t say a word more, he simply came to me, dragging the back of his hand down my cheek. Reaching behind me, I found the string of buttons that controlled the lid of the coffin. I pressed down on the largest one and was satisfied to hear the mechanism kick in, lifting the lid of the coffin.

Without a glance behind me, I crawled back onto the coffin and into the sinfully soft silk sheet of maroon that enveloped me. A shudder flew through my body as the sheets caressed my skin and I scooted back until I was resting against the large, down pillows at the head of the coffin.

Frost’s eyes glazed over as he watched me, poised on the lip of the coffin with one knee resting against the edge and two hands gripping it tightly. My hands felt up my stomach, the chill my hands had surprising my skin, and clutched the frontal clasp of my bra.

Unhooking the small, metal clasp I let go, letting Frost’s memory kick in and remind him what was below the fabric of my under garments. I watched his tongue slip from between his lips and slowly moisten his lower lip. Curling a seductive finger at him he smirked and crawled into the coffin, marks of animal passions flickering across his face.

In a smooth, vampire motion he was over me, his eyes burning down into mine and his hands sliding over the soft fabric of my pants. Another quick movement brought his hands to the undone clasp of my bra. He leaned down slowly and I looked down at him, watching my stomach and chest rise and fall increasingly faster with each inch he gained toward my body.

After agonizing seconds that felt much more like years, his nose touched the skin between my breasts. Biting down fiercely on my lip I struggled not to scream at him to hurry up, this was one aspect of him I had forgotten. He flicked his nose to the side, scraping his nose against the slope of my right breast.

He did the same to the other side, equally slowly, and my back arched toward him, a small groan coming from my throat. Frost eyed me curiously, a group of renegade strands of hair partially covering his left eye as he stared at me.

The foot between our faces was thick air, our breathing making it hot and sticky. Feeling the air from his breath trickling down my bare chest I raised a leg and rubbed the crotch of his pants with my knee.

“Oh so that’s the way it’s gonna be,” he said brazenly, seduction encasing his tone. “I don’t think so,” he added, breathing the words against my neck as he forced my leg back down with a powerful push.

“Please,” I whispered against his hair as his lips began to travel over the hills the veins in my neck were making, “Deacon.” I heard a sly chuckle come from him as his warm lips nipped at and sucked on my neck.

Letting my hands wander up his back to his shoulders I pulled him away slowly and locked my eyes on his, bringing a hand forward over his shoulder and down to his shirt’s buttons. I ripped at them, quickly opening the shirt completely. My fingers ran up his hard stomach and entangled in the fuzz that covered his chest.

Our eyes hadn’t moved and the heat was still wavering between us. “Indulge me,” I whispered forcefully, almost spitting the demand at him. Raising an amused eyebrow at me he let one of the hands that had been under me come around to the front and fiddle with the fly on my pants.

“It’s been far too long,” I revealed, letting my head fall back against the lush pillows as his hand triumphed and pulled off my pants after struggling for a bit. “I see you haven’t rethought your lingerie wardrobe,” he mused, casting a gaze down at where underwear should have been.

“I came prepared for you Deacon, I know how much you despise obstacles,” I replied, bringing my hands up to his head and swirling my fingers in locks of his hair. He shrugged and smirked as the hand on my stomach moved lower.

“Still want me to indulge you?” He asked, not allowing me to answer before he slipped two fingers inside of me.

“Oh god, you remembered,” I sighed, raising my hips to meet his hand. A low, guttural laugh ripped from his throat at his hand teased me, purposely avoiding the area the burned most intensely. He lowered his face to mine and brushed his cool, pale lips against mine.

“How could I forget,” he whispered, taking my lower lip into his mouth. He sucked on it for a bit before taking my mouth into a full embrace. I hadn’t felt a kiss like that in years—not since I had last been with him. I had nearly forgotten about his hand, from the way his tongue bewitched mine, when I felt his thumb graze my center.

I cried out into the kiss, desperation and anticipation rocketing through my body. Before I knew what was happening, his hands had grabbed both of my wrists, pinning my arms over my head. Grabbing both of my wrists with one hand he reached down to his pants fly and ripped it open, throwing his trousers, and then his boxer-briefs away from the coffin.

“Deacon, what are you doing?” I shrieked, out of breath and frightened by his actions.

An evil grin spread across his face as he once again took one of my wrists in each one of his hands. “You really think I’m stupid enough not to know what you’re up to, huh bitch?”

My eyes grew wide with fear as I saw the anger and hatred that now encased his features. I felt my lips begin to tremble instinctively and I struggled with all of my power to push him off but his powers were much greater than mine were.

A chuckle that was nowhere near mortal ripped from his throat as I felt him thrust into me with all of his being. I screamed and tried as hard as I could to free myself from his iron-like grasp. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, as his thrusts became harder and more painful.

“This is what you want, isn’t it Kloud? A good fuck before you die,” he growled, his fangs now bared as he stared down at my frightened face. I was sobbing now, a combination of defeat and pain from the way he was making love. It wasn’t making love, in reality; it was an attempt to make me sorry for coming back to him.

“Deacon, please stop, you’re hurting me,” I cried at him, my eyes opening and my vision blurred from the blood-saturated tears that filled my eyes. I was becoming short of breath, and I realized I was gasping for air. His grasp on my hands was equally painful, and I could feel his sharp fingernails digging into my flesh and I glanced up to see the blood beginning to stream down my wrists.

“That’s the point,” he spat, his eyes cold and dark and completely without regret for what he was doing. Suddenly, I remembered Wolverine, alone in the hall and just waiting to help me. This was definitely a desperate situation and I struggled to gain enough composure to talk, let alone scream.

“WOLVERINE, oh god help me!” I screamed, my head bucking back against the pillow as I tried violently to find some diversion from the pain, the intense pain of Deacon’s inhumanly hard erection pounding into me and his hands clutching me so tight bruises were surely beginning to form.

Deacon laughed again, equally evilly as he listened to my forced pleas. A few seconds later, however, there was a crash from behind Deacon as the door came crashing to the floor. My assailant glanced over his shoulder to see Wolverine’s form in the clearing dust of the commotion.

“Hey bub, you better rethink your fetishes,” Wolverine growled, pointing a finger at the bemused Frost still poised on top of me before a satisfying metallic whoosh sliced the air and signified the unsheathing of Wolverine’s claws.

Deacon shot an angry glance in my direction before striking a blow to my head so harsh I blacked out for a few seconds, “Don’t go anywhere honey, I’ll be back to finish this.” He had grabbed his pants with a vampire’s agility and was redressed withint seconds.

I felt the blood dribbling from my nose and a few seconds later tasted it as it leaked into my mouth. I sat up and wiped my face with my arm, watching the red streak that formed afterwards.

I glanced up to see Frost and Wolverine at odds, a few feet from each other—ready to pounce at any second. I frantically searched for my clothing. I slipped on my pants and grabbed my bra, flinging it on and fastening it as fast as I could.

Just then, Wolverine made the first move, slashing out at Frost with his right group of claws. He was dodged, easily and a swift kick to his back sent him flying against a nearby wall. Hitting the wall with a slight grunt he looked up at Frost, intense animal hatred glowing in his dark eyes.

Doing a quick summersault he landed in front of Frost and kicked out horizontally, knocking Frost onto his back. The stunned vampire kicked up back onto his feet, a shocked look on his face.

“Impressive, you’re not half bad…for a freak,” Frost taunted, raising a quirky eyebrow at fuming Wolverine.

Meanwhile, I was slowly creeping off of the bed, putting bare feet to the cold tiles of the floor and silently making my way towards the two men. Frost seemed thoroughly busy with Wolverine and I thought that I might have a chance of surprising him.

Not wanting to waste another second I leapt onto Frost’s back and pulled at his neck, trying to pull him to the floor. Wolverine saw his opportunity and stuck three claws into Frost’s stomach. A labored moan came from Frost as blood spurted from the wound, but he quickly recovered and batted me off of his back.

I hit a nearby wall and winced as I felt a few ribs crack before I slid down to the floor, spitting up a mixture of blood and saliva as I looked up at Frost who was touching the wound with his fingers and glaring at Wolverine.

“You little shits,” Frost said, shaking his head slowly as he waited for the three holes to mend, “You really think two on one is fair? What do you say we even-out the odds a bit?” He smirked, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out a cell phone. I signaled for Wolverine to charge but he was hesitant, seeing how truly powerful Frost was.

Meanwhile, Deacon had speed dialed someone on his phone and hung up instantly. A muffled chuckle came from Deacon as he wiped his chin with the bottom of his shirt. Seconds later there were footsteps, vampire footsteps, flying towards the room.

The step was familiar, I had heard it somewhere, and upset with the notion I stood slowly and shook the daze out of my head. Stepping into the doorway was a strong figure; muscular build and his silhouette seemed to be on fire from the contrasting lighting of the hall and Deacon’s room.

“These crazy kids thought they’d have some fun and come fuck around with me, want to join in the craaaazy fun,” Deacon mocked to his friend, waving his arms around in a stupid way.

“Oh shut up you jackass,” I said angrily, shaking my head slowly at Deacon’s egotism. Wolverine eyed me with a warning glance, backing away from Frost and more in the direction of the stranger.

The new vampire stepped into the room and sprinted towards Wolverine, reaching him and shoving his chest forcefully before Wolverine had the chance to use his claws. Flying through the air he landed above one the desks near Deacon’s coffin and crashed into one of the mirrors, shards of broken glass raining down on his shaken form as a loud crack told the tale of what the impact had done to his spine. He fell from the wall, toppled over the desk and landed with a thud on the floor.

“Logan!” I screamed, watching the look of pure agony on his face as he tried to raise his head, his face nicked and bleeding from the broken glass. Both of the vampires turned towards me now, the stranger still unknown to me.

Frost was quickly at my side from his vampire speed, his hand grasping for my neck. I shrieked and kicked at him as he picked me up easily with one hand, clutching my neck.

“Stupid, stupid bitch, what WERE you thinking?” He was speaking in his condescending manner again, carrying me to the center of the room and laying me down on the floor, his hand still clutching my neck and his crystal blue eyes wild with hatred.

“Oh god, Deacon, don’t do this, don’t do this to me,” I pleaded, tears coming from my eyes again. His free hand grasped for a piece of glass that had skidded across to the floor from Wolverine’s crash. He held the large shard above my head so that I could see it clearly. The tears began to flow harder as realization hit me, he was going to behead me—and that would be the end of me.

A chuckle left his smooth lips as he looked down at me with a cold stare. “Deacon I loved you, please don’t do this, I loved you and I didn’t mean to hurt you,” the words were true and tumbled out quickly, he probably knew it, but it didn’t matter to him…power mattered to him. The other vampire stepped into the light above Deacon, who was kneeling over my body, and my eyes grew wide and hopeful at the appearance of him.

“Adelphus?” I managed to whisper; a vampire I had known was now standing above Deacon. We had been friends and only recently gone our separate ways, I reached out for him but Deacon batted my hand down.

The strikingly handsome, blue eyed vampire moved so that he was standing along side of Deacon and he gazed down at me impassively. I heard Wolverine stirring against from across the room and then heard a soft thud as he fell back down to the floor.

“Adelphus, help me, this is madness, you don’t have to let him do this,” I pleaded, beginning to sob again. For a moment I saw his eyes soften as he looked down on me, the fallen vampire angel on the floor that he had known and cherished and now would see killed.

I turned my gaze back to Deacon and caught a sob in my throat to make sure I would leave a lasting impression on him before he sent me to hell with the rest of the taken vampires. I spat at him, my reddened saliva slapping against his cheek before it slid down slowly, “You’re a piece of shit. Go ahead, kill an unarmed vampire woman, it’s your style Deacon. It suits you,” I nodded against the floor, “It suits you, you’re trash.”

Apparently that effected Deacon and he lowered his face to mine after wiping my saliva off on his shirt’s sleeve. “Before you left the coven you called me something. If I remember correctly you called me a bitch, so tell me Kloud, who’s the bitch now?” He growled, repositioning the shard of glass in his hand so that he could strike with more ease.

I held back my sobs, not wanting him to remember me as weak when I died. He raised the shard above his head and suddenly visions I had never thought twice about flashed before my eyes; throwing rocks at pigeons with Louis in Rome, going to the opera with Adelphus in his slick tuxedo in London, my first meeting with Logan and Scott. It all seemed so distant, but it was my life, and soon it would be no more.

Glancing back up at Adelphus I watched as Deacon began to bring the shard down. Before the sharp, glinting glass could reach my pulsing neck I saw Adelphus move, so quickly and suddenly that it was a blur. Then I saw the glass fly from Deacon’s hand and shatter against the far wall. I heard the muffled thud as Adelphus’ boot smacked against the side of Deacon’s face.

I gasped as Deacon released my neck from the force of Adelphus’ foot and I scampered to my feet, glancing a thankful look at my vampire friend before whipping the knife from my back pocket and charging at a shocked and unprepared Frost.

“You know what, Deacon?” I growled, grabbing his throat and lifting him from the floor, his boots scraping on the floor as he struggled to regain footing. He was inches in the air as I smashed him against the wall.

His eyes spoke of regret and sorrow but I ignored it, knowing that seconds earlier he was poised to kill me. But I wouldn’t kill him, I’d rather have him live with his defeat, that would be more painful than death…he would not be a martyr today.

He was unable to answer my question, so I answered it for him, casting a quick look at the knife before I brought it closer to his neck, “You, my friend, are a bitch. A bitch,” I repeated, slicing his neck open with as much force as I could muster.

A gurgle escaped his mouth before blood seeped from his lips as I threw his body to the floor, the blood pouring from him as he struggled to move. He twitched as he lay sprawled on the floor, his once handsome face crimson with his own blood and his hair matted with the growing puddle of blood on the floor.

I backed away and slipped the knife back into my pocket, smiling faintly at Adelphus before rushing over to Wolverine. “Are you okay?” I whispered, helping him to his feet and brushing off a few pieces of glass. “Peachy,” he replied in a moan, his hands grasping his throat as he readjusted his position in the tight leather suit.

“Shall we?” The unshaken Adelphus called from the center of the large room. I nodded, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over my shoulder as I helped him leave the room. Before I left the cold atmosphere of Frost’s room I cast a final look at his crippled form and spat at the floor near his face. “Let’s go,” I said sternly, directing Wolverine as he slowly began to regain his strength.

The three of us entered the hallway and were met with the strange appearance of Kerenza, erect and completely disheveled. “Deacon?” She asked blindly, blinking a few times before her eyes focused on the three of us.

“YOU,” she gasped, her eyes fixed on me. Adelphus led us down the hall towards her casually. A horrible scream ripped from the hellish looking girl as she charged at us. With one easy motion Adelphus batted her against the wall, silencing her instantly and sending her weak form back into blackness.

“Nice shot,” I said with a slight chuckle, giving the vampire a fond glance. He smiled and squeezed my shoulder gently as we made our way from the hall to the stairs that would take us onto the roof to be picked up by the Blackbird.

to be continued...