Frost Line Read online

  She had been staying right with him, shadowing his every movement, and never getting more than a step away from him. She took the menu and looked through it, then gave it back to him. “I’m unfamiliar with these foods,” she said. “Choose for me.”

  “Pancakes!” Elijah shouted. “And French toast! And bacon. I want lots of bacon. And chocolate milk. Where are we going? Can we go to IHOP? I love IHOP.”

  Lenna put her hand on his arm, calming him down from what looked like a fit of ecstasy. “Perhaps you shouldn’t hop in here,” she suggested. “We don’t want to disturb anyone.”

  Elijah gave her a bewildered look. “I wasn’t hopping.”

  Rather than go into any explanation, Caine said, “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to order room service.” Delirious. He’d been injured during his last mission and was now delirious, and none of this existed except in his fevered imagination. That was the only explanation.

  Except his growing hunger was very real, robbing him of the mild comfort of his musings.

  Two pairs of eyes turned toward him. “What is this room service?” Lenna asked in interest.

  “We aren’t going to IHOP?” Elijah asked, beginning to pout.

  Caine narrowed his eyes at the kid. “Hunters don’t pout. Hunters make the best of every situation, turning it to their advantage.” To Lenna he said, “Room service means our food will be brought to us here.”

  “Ah. Food is always brought to me, though I’ve never heard it called this.”

  Of course food was always brought to her. She was a Major Arcana, waited on hand and foot for the entirety of her existence. The differences in their lives were starkly drawn. He couldn’t say he’d never been waited on; he had a couple of delicious memories of lying naked with a woman and feeding each other, but that wasn’t in the same category as being treated like royalty every day of his life. He wasn’t afforded service; he was afforded fear.

  All in all, he thought he preferred fear; having everything done for him, everything provided to him, wasn’t at all appealing. He liked the rough, adventurous life of a Hunter.

  Sighing, he called room service and ordered pretty much everything: pancakes, French toast, bacon, eggs, regular toast, fruit, juice, chocolate milk, and coffee—service for three. The à la carte orders would cost a small fortune, but maybe the kid would be happy, eat, and be quiet for a while.

  Delivery of the food took half an hour; when the room service waiter wheeled in the cart loaded with dishes, Elijah stared wide-eyed for all of about two seconds, then he began bombarding the waiter with questions: how many people ordered their food that way, did he always have to wear a suit, what were those round things—“Domes to cover the food and keep it warm,” Caine interjected, because the waiter was looking around for round things—what time did he come to work, did he have any kids, and had he watched Captain America?

  The waiter was a champ. “Lots, yes, six a.m., no, and yes,” he rattled off with a grin. “Is Captain America your favorite?”

  “Almost,” Elijah said. “But I like Iron Man, too. He’s got a magic suit and can zoom around. Hunters don’t need magic suits, though—”

  Lenna put her hand on Elijah’s arm, interrupting him before he could start talking about poofing, and earning Caine’s gratitude because he’d been thinking about clamping his hand over the kid’s mouth. “Would you like to begin with pancakes?” she asked, diverting him to the food.

  Caine signed the ticket and added a hefty tip. As soon as the door had closed behind the waiter he said to Elijah, “You must be careful not to tell other people about what Hunters can do.”

  The big brown eyes blinked solemnly. “Is it a secret?”

  “Yes. An important one.” It wasn’t, but not being noticed made navigating this plane less complicated.

  Lenna having to stay close to Caine complicated matters; they had to move together to the table, and she couldn’t separate from him to get Elijah settled. Luckily, when it came to food, the kid didn’t need shepherding. He climbed into a chair, curling one leg beneath him so he was sitting higher, and surveyed the array of dome-covered plates. “Which one is mine?”

  “Almost all of them,” Caine replied.

  Lenna briefly hesitated, then distributed the three plates and silverware. Probably that was the first time in her life she’d ever served anyone else; reluctantly Caine admitted that she was handling herself with more grace than he’d have anticipated, considering how long it had been since the Major Arcana had been able to visit other worlds.

  She picked up the carton of chocolate milk, studied it with interest, then murmured, “Open here,” and with only one false start popped open the spout. As she was pouring the milk into a glass for Elijah, Caine took care of the coffee, filling cups for both him and Lenna.

  They all sat down, and Lenna somewhat cautiously tried the coffee. She didn’t exactly grimace, but Caine could tell she didn’t care for the beverage. “Try putting milk and sugar in it,” he suggested, pushing the two items toward her. “It won’t be so bitter then. Or try the orange juice instead.” He indicated the small carafe of juice; he knew from the Emperor that she enjoyed studying other worlds, but he didn’t know how extensive her knowledge of minutiae was.

  She shook her head, and waited as Caine filled Elijah’s plate with his requested items and drenched them with syrup, then added a couple slices of bacon. The kid began eating as if he were starving, and Caine turned his attention to Lenna. He didn’t want to serve her, but found himself offering her each plate and explaining what every item was, as well as the seasonings or toppings she should try. She willingly tried them all, though she took only a small amount of each.

  No one went hungry, though. The kid ate more than he and Lenna combined, a fact which seemed to amuse her.

  When they were all fed, Elijah turned on the television and stretched out on the couch to watch. Caine lingered over a second cup of coffee, turning the current situation over in his mind and examining all angles. No matter how he turned it, though, he kept coming back to one unwelcome fact: Lenna wasn’t willing to leave the boy, and he couldn’t teleport her without the Alexandria Deck, the location of which she refused to tell him until she’d done what she could for Elijah. Therefore, Caine had to join in that effort, and turn his not inconsiderable talents toward resolving the problem.

  He set down the empty cup and got to his feet. Lenna immediately rose, too, mindful of his order to stay close to him. He’d much prefer sending her to the other room so he could handle the kid without her interference, but that wasn’t an option.

  Great. Another group effort.

  Caine leaned down, took the remote from Elijah, and turned off the television. The cartoon the kid had been watching was annoying, anyway. The high-pitched voices, the bright colors and unnatural movements of the characters … It was maddening to a Hunter for whom no sight or noise was ever entirely in the background.

  “Hey!” Elijah said, jumping up off the couch. “You turned off the TV!”

  A Hunter used whatever weapon was available, so … “Hunters don’t watch that crap,” Caine said. If the kid thought he was a Hunter-in-training, maybe he’d give up the cartoon without much protest.

  “Crap is a bad word,” Elijah said, but he perched on the edge of the couch and worked up a serious expression.

  Lenna murmured a slightly amused, “Yes, it is.” She stood right behind Caine, so close he could feel the heat from her body. Her constant nearness, the scent and warmth—and damn, even the air felt softer around her—were chaffing at him, making him feel as if his clothing had tiny spikes embedded in the cloth. He could not get this done soon enough.

  “We have work to do.” Caine planted himself in front of the kid, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked down. Elijah craned his head to look up, narrowing one eye. If he was intimidated, it didn’t show.

  “Where can I find Uncle Bobby?”

  Elijah shrugged his shoulders.

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