Page 18 of Snow

Sam frowns, looking at the cash as if he’s not sure whether to count it or not. “All of it?”

“Your friend needs to keep his strength up." He narrows his eyes then gestures to Kole. “You should go, too, viking. He’ll need help carrying them.”

Kole’s entire body tenses. He hates being told what to do, especially by Thornfield. But he restrains himself from a snarky response, and nods. “Fine,” he says. “But when I return, we need to talk about Zephyra. Kim left her in the tunnels last night. She won’t have had chance to relocate. She’s too injured and it’s daylight. Which means we need to go back there tonight and finish her before she has the chance to escape.”

Thornfield nods slowly. “I agree,” he says. “It’s early. The stall will only just be opening. Go now, and when you return we’ll form a plan.”

Kole nods, almost imperceptibly. But as he strides past Thornfield, I notice him look him up and down, and my pussy twitches at the idea that he’s thinking about Thornfield’s cock. Fuck, I’d like to see them together again. But I know it was a one off, so I’ll just have to be satisfied with the memory.

And with telling Tanner about it in full detail when I get the chance. Because he will be very curious; I know that, for sure.

* * *

With Sam and Kole gone, the room seems a little less crowded. But it’s still not fit for purpose.

“I need air.” Mack sits up on his pillows and shakes his head, rubbing his thighs – which are back inside his gray sweats. “I can’t sit in here all day again. I need air. Snow does too.”

“You can’t go for a walk,” Tanner says. “Even if you were up to it, Snow’s back to normal now. He’d be spotted in no time.”

The door opens as we’re discussing our options. It’s Miranda, carrying a tray of potions and coffees. “Everything alright?” she asks, setting the tray down and examining the pieces of Kim’s bed that lay in two different parts of the room.

She spots Snow, and barely flinches. As if it’s completely normal for a polar bear to be standing in front of her.

“Mack and Snow need some daylight. Some fresh air.”

“You’ll have to use the roof,” she says. “If you can get up there.”

“I can get there.” Mack gets out of the bed and has to steady himself on the bedside table. Gruffing, Snow hurries over to him. Somehow, Snow seems in better shape than Mack. But I don’t know enough about what’s happening to them to understand why.

“I’ll help.” I move to tuck Mack’s arm around my shoulders and he smiles. “You could help by bringing the coffee, Little Star. Let me at least prove my legs still work.”

I glance at the tray Miranda’s holding. The potion bottle next to the coffee cups is purple. Usually, the stuff she gives Mack is blue. My heart trips in my chest. “Is that…?”

Quickly, she says, “No, I’m sorry. I just added a different tincture to it to see if it helps. I’m having a little trouble with the elixir. It’s not the right color.” She frowns and bites her lower lip.

“Trouble?” Mack asks. He’s still leaning on Snow, and I feel like he’s using precious energy standing that he could be using to walk to the roof.

“We’ll get there.” Miranda nods at him. “I just don’t think I’m getting the temperature of the willow bark quite right before I add it. But I’ll work it out. I’m sure.”

“Work it out?” Irritation flares in my stomach. “You’re being a little causal, don’t you think? We’re talking about Mack’s life, here, Miranda. You need to do more than work it out.”

Miranda’s eyes soften. Instead of being annoyed with me, she puts down the tray and squeezes my hands between hers. “He’ll be alright, Nova. We have everything we need.”

Moisture pools in my eyes. I look away, but Miranda squeezes my hand again before leaving the room.

“We do not, however, have the scepter.” Thornfield is pacing back and forth. He looks up at the small window. It’s casting a beam of light into the room now, so he closes the blinds. “Did you reach out to your friends in the Bureau?” he asks Mack. “What are they doing?”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied with dying,” Mack says darkly.

Hearing him say that makes me inhale sharply.

“I’ll go and call Luther.” Tanner takes his cell from his pocket. “I’ll ask what’s happening. If they have any other leads.”

“We need more than leads, we need—” Thornfield’s eyes flash, but he bites back the rest of his sentence, breathes in deeply, then says, “Fine. Call.”

He’s about to follow when I step in front of him.

“I think we need a backup plan.”