Chapter Six
Cedar dug at the baby powder soft snow but she was getting nowhere. Sure, she knew the mechanics of building a snow cave to stay warm in freezing weather. She’d taken the damn class. Dig a hole, dig a drainage tunnel, don’t forget air vents, blah, blah, blah. And she was even repeating Daryn’s words in her head over and over as a mantra: It’s easy, like building a nest. As if people built nests on the regular.
But all their efforts were for nothing, because the wind and new snow was making it impossible to dig out the kind of shelter they needed.
She leaned on her shovel and watched him work.
He was strong, his muscles probably huge under all that winter garb. And fast, digging up two loads in the time she got one. He wasn’t even winded. Neither was she really. Just frustrated it was taking so long. The sky was such a dark shade of gray, she knew they only had minutes of light left. When it got dark, Daryn would be in danger.
He’s normal. He’ll freeze.
Her chest hammered with the first true fear she’d felt in a long time besides her dreams. Not brought on by adrenaline, but by the thought of losing this man because of her stupid selfish decision.
She could fix their problem. She had the power to manipulate the snow to do her bidding. A cute little trick she’d learned when she was twelve. But no one she shared it with thought it was so cute.
And it was what brought her the dreams, so she tried to never do it.
Cedar shivered. Her abilities felt like a beacon for the darkness. What if she used her power to build their cave and then darkness found her tonight? What if this was the time she’d be lost to it? She’d felt it growing more intense since her birthday, even if it had left her alone for the most part.
“What do you do for a living?” Daryn asked. He seemed to be trying to keep her mind off their trouble. It was a sweet gesture.
“I’m rich,” she answered, digging uselessly at the white ground.
“How rich?”
“Very, very.”
“Huh. Trust fund?” There was an edge to his voice, like he was disappointed. But she didn’t want to disappoint him. The idea left her stomach sour.
“Just kicked in, when I turned twenty-five last month. But I was rich before that. Got that way on my own too,” she added proudly.
“How?”
She paused her digging and grinned over at him. “I’m an inventor.”
He raised a humored eyebrow. “Really, an inventor?”
“Well, sorta. I invented spray-on nail polish. You ever heard of it?”
He shook his head.
“It’s so handy. You just spray it on your nails, wait a few minutes, and then wash your hands to get the remaining polish off your skin. Pretty much an instant manicure. Very popular among busy women. And then last year, we launched our smear-proof eyeliner and lip gloss. They’re both doing great. And we have more innovative products coming out next year. The team is projecting big numbers for our second quarter…”
She drifted off, realizing she was flooding him with useless business banter. She knew what that was like. Her father did it often.
“Go on.”
“Oh, that’s it pretty much. Don’t want to bore you with the details.”
His gaze dug into her. It felt like it was wrapping around her soul.
“I’m not bored,” he murmured. “I like hearing you talk so passionately.”
Cedar felt her face flush pink and was glad for the dim light so he wouldn’t see it. But his words warmed her to no end. Nobody loved hearing her talk. She’d been told so a million times, and had learned it was just too bad for them. Because bosses have to talk. It’s a necessity.
But Daryn liked hearing her talk.
It gave her butterflies in her middle. For the first time ever, she had butterflies.
She went back to digging. And talking.
“I love my business, I do. It has given me as much as I’ve given it. But it’s not what I want to do forever,” she admitted.
“Oh, yeah? What do you want?”
Was she really doing this? Telling another person her secret dream? She’d never shared it with anyone before.
“I want to move away from the city, to a quaint little town where everybody knows your name. But not because of who you are. They know your name because they know everybody’s, and you’re just one of them. And I want to own a coffee shop. The kind where people come and warm up, or just chat your ears off about nothing. Where they feel comfortable to be themselves. Where I can be myself. I want a simple life.”
“A simple life,” he repeated, shoveling another load of snow. “Sounds like you’re looking for Kodiak then.”
“Mmm. Maybe.”
He tossed a shovel full of snow onto the pile they were trying to build, but it blew back and hit him in the face.
“The city girl wants to settle down in the country, huh?”
“She does.”
“Well, you sound like the type of woman who can make things happen. So… make it happen.”
“It’s that easy, you think?”
“Maybe not. But I think if you wanted it bad enough, you could have anything.”
She paused, looking over at him, letting her eyes roam his body from head to foot. He was freaking handsome. Rugged. Not like the men from the city with their perfectly coifed hair and waxed eyebrows. She wanted him. Even if it was inappropriately timed.
“Anything?”
His eyes flashed a darker blue, and the corner of his mouth turned upward in a sexy-as-sin smirk. He stared at her like he wanted to eat her up, and suddenly all her nerve endings were on delicious fire. She bit her lip to hold in a moan.
“Woman,” he growled, “don’t look at me like that right now. It distracts me, and I haven’t made a shelter for you yet.”
“But you did say anything.”
He licked his lips and she felt it between her legs. “Ask me again after I get you safe,” he rumbled low.
Just then, the wind kicked up, a blast of it pushing her back onto her ass and destroying the small hole she’d built. Daryn kept his foothold, but his efforts were whipped away just as quickly as hers were.
They were doomed if they continued like this. Digging with shovels was pointless. And she was wagering a lot waiting so long to use her power.
She was wagering Daryn’s life.
And it just wasn’t something she was willing to bet on any longer. Not when she could fix this for them in less than a New York minute.
What would he think of her?
Would her ability frighten him?
Would he think she was a freak like everybody else?
Would he still look at her like he did minutes ago? Like she was a candle in a dark night. Like she was a dessert that needed consuming. Like she was… his?
Damn it, she really hoped so. Because for the first time, in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. She felt wanted. And respected for something other than her money. She felt needed. And desired.
And those feelings were gold.
More addicting than any adrenaline rush had ever been.
But she’d give it up, all those good things threading through her right now, to save him. He didn’t deserve to die for her risky decision. And she wasn’t going to let him. Even if it cost her this.
“Enough,” she huffed, tossing her shovel aside. “This isn’t working.”
“It’s our only option.” He kept scooping snow onto the pile, half of it blowing back on him.
“No, it isn’t.”
He straightened, leaning on his shovel to stare at her. “I’m listening.”
Cedar fidgeted, kicking the toe of her boot into the powder. “I can uh… do things. Sometimes. If I want to.”
Daryn frowned. “Things?”
“Weird things. Things I shouldn’t be able to do.”
His brow wrinkled even further. “Like what?”
Oh, he was going to be so mad at her. Or disgusted. Or appalled. Or sickened. Or…
“It’s really better if I show you. Step back.”
His eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Step back? Where?”
Cedar looked around for a safe spot. “Over there.” She pointed to a cropping of firs out of the way.
Daryn shook his head. “You want me to stand over there while you do some ‘things’?”
“Yes. Please.” She could hear the nervousness in her voice. But this had to be done.
He grumbled out something she didn’t understand and stomped over to where she’d directed.
Cedar pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. This was it. He’d know she was strange, but they’d both be alive at the end of it.
Worth it, she thought.
Even if it called the darkness and the demon came for her tonight. She could survive nightmares. Cedar always survived. She could survive anything.
Except hurting Daryn. Except being responsible for that. Or worse, his death.
Inside, deep down, she knew she wouldn’t survive that.
And if she wanted, when this was all over, she could run away, back home, where everyone was wary around her. Where she had no friends, but a thriving makeup business and a mother and father who loved her even if they worried about her and her quirks.
Another breath, and she steeled herself for what was coming. She drew power from some place deep in her center where there seemed to be an unending well of it. Like it would last forever, never run dry. She pulled all of it she could hold into her hands and placed them in front of her. She curled her fingers, working the snow from a distance, without even touching it.
Only touch it with your mind.
This was how she’d done it before, and it was working now.
She pulled snow from the air, from the ground, funneling it into a form that would meet their needs. First an arched roof, then a crawlspace sized door. Vent holes, like she’d been taught in that survival class. Except instead of a shovel, she did them her way.
She arced her arm, flinging more of the white powder onto their temporary dwelling, and pushed the snow showering them from the blizzard away.
She never looked at Daryn. Didn’t want to see his face change from admiration to horror. She only kept working until their cave was solid on the outside, and sturdy enough to hold up to the storm.
When she was finished, she let her power fade away so she could get closer and form the necessary sleeping platform they’d need on the inside, along with the drainage tunnel.
Work now, explain later. A new mantra for her to silently chant.
Because soon, they’d be safe inside, and she’d have the entire night to explain how she was able to manipulate frozen things.
Except, that was the tricky part. Because how could she explain something she didn’t understand?