Frost Line Read online

  As soon as they stepped into the shelter of the trees, the shade made them feel cooler, and even the sound of the waves was muted. Musing, Lenna looked around, marveling at the massive differences between here and Atlanta. Some corners of this world were crowded, humans upon humans, nowhere to turn without running into one another. There was a lot of noise, thanks to vehicles and thousands of voices and an abundance of technology. Here, the land remained primal and all but deserted. She had the sense that the three of them were alone, surrounded by the mighty ocean that both isolated and protected. The quiet was deep and complete, until an animal of some sort that was deep in the jungle tittered and another answered. She liked it. She liked it all.

  The jungle closed about them, but in a remarkably short time they suddenly stepped into a clearing. A rambling and weathered house sat in the middle of the clearing. A path made of stone and crushed shell led to a wide porch that ran the length of the house. All the windows were open; white curtains danced in the breeze, moving in and out. Any kind of structure should look out of place here, but this one, with the silvery weathered wood, suited the setting. It was civilized, but not completely; comfortable, but not luxurious.

  The front door opened and a man holding a shotgun walked onto the porch. Alarmed, she reached for Elijah to pull him behind her, but as soon as the man got a good look at Caine, he began grinning and propped the shotgun against the side of the house.

  “Chantel!” he called in a deep voice. “Come on out! It’s Caine.” The man limped across the porch and down the steps. There was a squeal from inside the house, and in just a few seconds a large, pretty woman wearing a brightly colored loosely fitting dress came running through the open door.

  She and the man were both middle-aged, or what Lenna would call middle-aged for the residents of Seven. They were in their late forties, she supposed. Their faces were tanned and lightly wrinkled. The man’s hair was salt-and-pepper gray, the woman’s a vivid, unnatural red. They were dressed casually in loose and colorful clothing, a far better choice for the climate than what their visitors were currently wearing.

  The man reached Caine and they exchanged a hearty handshake, both of them smiling. Chantel worked her way around her male companion—husband or boyfriend, Lenna assumed—and gave Caine a hug.

  Both of them gave off an air of sturdy competency, as well as kindness, the shotgun notwithstanding. An island … Caine was right; Elijah was completely safe from Uncle Bobby here. There was no way he could be found.

  Elijah pressed close to Caine’s legs as he surveyed his surroundings, and the strangers who lived here, with some caution. Instead of dancing around in delight and asking to be taught magic, as he had been moments earlier, he had withdrawn in the presence of these strangers.

  Poor child, she thought. If he’d been any older, the things he’d seen in the past two days likely would have made him question his sanity, and that was leaving out the trauma of seeing his mother murdered. Instead, he accepted the impossible things he had seen, designating it all “magic.” To a child who spent so much of his time immersed in the worship of fictional superheroes, magic was not such a stretch.

  Caine reached out and drew her closer to his side. “Lenna, this is my good friend Wiley and his wife, Chantel.”

  She made the appropriate human response. “Nice to meet you.”

  Caine placed a hand on Elijah’s head. “And this is Elijah. I thought maybe he’d like to do some fishing, and what better place than this?”

  Wiley grinned, his faintly homely face lighting up. He didn’t ask a single question about who the child was, or who Lenna was, or why Caine had shown up out of the blue. “Fantastic.” He dropped down so he could look Elijah in the eye. “Son, have you been fishing before?”

  Elijah shook his head, his big brown eyes still full of wariness.

  “Well, have I got a treat for you! I was just about to head out in my boat and see if I could catch some sea bass or maybe some snapper. Chantel cooks up a mean fish fry, and my mouth has been watering all day just thinking about it.”

  “I certainly do,” Chantel said, somehow dislodging Elijah from Caine without being in any way obvious about it, simply replacing Caine with her own body. She draped her arm around Elijah’s shoulders, and Wiley bracketed him on the other side. “I made a fresh coconut cake this morning, and when I say fresh, I mean fresh. Do you like coconut cake?”

  “Yeah!” Elijah said enthusiastically, the lure of cake pulling him out of his instinctive withdrawal.

  “Well, come on, and I’ll cut you a great big slice of it.”

  As they walked toward the house, Elijah between Wiley and Chantel, Lenna reached out and caught Caine’s arm. When the others were a few yards away, she whispered, “Do you truly trust them enough to leave Elijah in their care?”

  “I do.” His black eyes glittered down at her.

  “You don’t just want to be rid of him?”

  “I wouldn’t risk his safety,” he said shortly, and she saw how her question had annoyed him. He could just deal with his annoyance, because protecting Elijah was her mission just as she was Caine’s.

  “How long have you known them? Do they know what you are?”

  “A long time, and yes,” he said shortly.

  She should have stayed connected to him longer; she should have reached deeper. She hadn’t seen Wiley and Chantel. There was still so much about him she didn’t know, which meant she needed some wariness herself. “I thought the humans of Seven had to be kept in the dark about our existence.”

  Caine shrugged. “Who says Wiley and Chantel are humans of Seven?”

  Lenna shouldn’t have been shocked, but she was. There were many worlds, and the beings who populated them had all been created in the same image. There were many differences beyond appearance, of course, in abilities and length of life, some much shorter, some much longer.

  She opened her mouth to ask a flood of questions, but Caine seized her, his big hands biting into her waist. “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “Read me. Concentrate on my memories of them.”

  A little shocked by the directive, Lenna threw an apprehensive look toward the house. She had read beings before without any drama, but reading Caine was different. Somehow, with him, it was an act so intimate it was almost like sex, and she was hesitant to do it where others could see. Still, there was no way she would refuse such an opportunity. Turning so that his back was to the house she pressed close to him, clasped her hands on his head, and let her head rest on his chest. She didn’t have to do it exactly that way, but she liked the feel of him under her hands, liked hearing his heartbeat.

  The connection was immediate, and as powerful as if they were lying intimately connected. But she wasn’t here to get a thrill—she was here for information—so she blocked that and instead concentrated on Wiley and Chantel. Finding those memories was ridiculously easy, so he must have brought them to the forefront for her to access.

  Wiley and Chantel were from Two, a world that no longer existed. Both were nearing two hundred years old, though she couldn’t tell how those years were measured. Wiley had saved Caine’s life in the waning days of the final war on Two. Lenna had a confused impression of a shouted warning, an expert shot, then shelter to rest and heal. Finally, as fire had consumed that once-beautiful world, Caine had transported out. On that occasion, he hadn’t traveled alone. He had brought them to Seven; then, when the teeming humanity put too much stress on Chantel, he’d found this island for them and brought them here.

  They lived their lives isolated on this island so they wouldn’t have to constantly move before friends and neighbors began questioning their longevity. The modern age made even that much more difficult, with birth certificates and identity cards, computers. Living alone suited them. Besides, Chantel was so sensitive to the moods and emotions of others, living among humans was extremely stressful for her. Like many who came from her world, she was a powerful empath; that was how she had so swiftly re