Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

Confused, I sat back as the engine roared to life. I didn’t think he wanted to visit his family, and I sure as hell didn’t know how they’d react to me. In the outside world of Vysanthe, I could get away with hiding my humanity and avoiding unnecessary attention, as long as I drew my hood up, but in the confines of a house I would be outed as an alien immediately.

Turning the ship around, Navan flew it back toward the spot where we’d visited the chapel. I expected him to stop there, so I was surprised when he continued on, the Snapper’s metal base brushing against the canopy of an expansive forest. We reached a clearing in the trees, where he set the ship down.

Stepping out, I saw a low structure in the shade of the gloomy, dark-leafed trees. It looked like a hut of some kind, with long-dead hanging baskets dangling from a wraparound veranda. No lights shone from the windows. Whoever lived here, it was clear they weren’t home.

“What is this place?” I asked, my teeth chattering.

“My ‘man cave’,” Navan replied with a smirk, leading me up to the front door. Opening it up, he ushered me inside.

It was simple, with a lounge to one side and a kitchen to the other—though there was no oven or fridge in sight. I guessed coldbloods had no need for such things. In the back, there was a bathroom and a bedroom, with basic furnishings. Still, it felt homey now that I was inside.

Navan wandered around, lighting lamps, before disappearing into the back bedroom. He returned a minute later with a bag, a few clothes trailing out of the top. In his hand he held a black box, which he set down on the surface of his coffee table. I eyed it curiously, sitting down next to Navan.

“It’s the device I was telling you about,” he said, seeing my confused expression. “I’m going to upload the contents of the disc and transmit the information to Orion.”

I watched with bated breath as Navan placed the disc into a small drive. A screen flickered up from the black box, showing the progress of the file. The blue line crept along the screen, taking its sweet time.

“This is going to take a while,” Navan muttered. “Let’s go somewhere while we wait for it to finish.”

I nodded, eager to see more of Navan’s world. Leaving the black box on the table, he rose and rummaged in a closet. He pulled out another bulky fur coat and wrapped it around me as a second layer, then led me out of the cabin. Clutching a flashlight that lit the way, he walked with me through the eerie trees of the forest. My ears were pricked for the curious sounds of creatures in the undergrowth. A rustle close to my arm made me jump back, but Navan caught me, an amused chuckle rising from his throat.

“There isn’t anything bad in these woods,” he promised. “The worst creatures live up near the mountains. Here, we’re pretty safe.”

Not entirely convinced, I clung to Navan as we continued through the shadows of the forest. It wasn’t as cold here as it was out in the open, but I could still feel the bite of the Vysanthean wind on my face, nipping at any bare flesh it could find.

Before long, we emerged from the tree line into a tiny grove. I had never expected to see such color in Vysanthe, but the trees here were bright with vivid purple blooms and sunny yellow flowers. A pond stood in the center, with the same luminescent skeleton fish as before turning circles beneath the water. In the darkened sky, huge fireflies flitted to-and-fro, lighting up the air like lanterns.

“This is my favorite place,” Navan said, pausing to admire the grove. As my eyes drifted across the scenery, I noticed a squat, glass igloo to one side of the pond.

Navan led me to it, urging me through the door. The warmth within was blissful. On the floor was a pile of more furs, which I quickly sat down upon, wrapping myself up in the layers. Navan sat beside me, putting his arms around me as I nestled into him, feeling the cold in my limbs ebb away.

Staring up, I saw the twinkle of stars in the distance, the sky blanketed in constellations. With no light pollution for miles, it felt like I could see every single one. Galaxies overflowing with stars streaked across the black velvet of the night’s sky. My eyes went wide in awe. A shooting star shot across the scene, but I had learned to be wary of such things. Where once I might have made a wish, now I prayed it wasn’t a ship, come to steal me away.

Soon, I began to feel toasty in the shelter of the igloo. In fact, the heat was so intense that I began to feel sleepy. It was like coming in after playing in the snow, the glow of a fireside having a soporific effect.

My eyelids grew heavy, my body leaning into Navan’s. He smiled, pulling me closer. Mumbling, I leaned up and kissed the curve of his neck, prompting him to lay me back down on the furs. He put one hand behind his head, while the other cradled me to him, my head resting on the smooth contours of his chest. It was the perfect pillow, his heartbeat my lullaby. Fighting with my need to sleep, I managed to catch one last glimpse of a beautiful, starry night, before it claimed me.



A pale dawn roused me from my slumber. My stomach was aching with hunger pains, making me realize I’d eaten nothing since that taste of blue fruit Queen Gianne had offered me, before cruelly swiping it from my grasp.

Navan stirred, smiling down at me. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning yourself.” I grinned, pushing thoughts of food from my mind.

“We should be getting back,” he said, sitting upright.

I nodded, scrambling to my feet. Rain was pattering against the glass curve of the igloo, the droplets icy cold on my face as we left its shelter. Racing back through the trees, we stopped by Navan’s cabin, but the crawling blue line on his device had yet to reach completion.

Navan cursed. “We’re going to have to come back for it,” he said.

“Can’t we… take it with us?”

He shook his head. “We’re remote enough here that the signal won’t be noticed, but if I take it back to the palace, security will likely sense it. We’re going to have to leave it, and send it when we return.”

“Can’t you program it to transmit once it’s loaded?”

Again, he shook his head. “I need to check it first, make sure it’s in one piece.” With a disappointed expression, Navan picked up the bag he’d packed and headed for the door.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any food in there?” I said hopefully.

He grimaced. “Rask, I’m an idiot—you must be starving! I’ll get something for you once we’re back at the palace,” he promised, gesturing for us to leave. With my stomach still growling, I followed him to the Snapper and got in, watching the fields and towns and wasteland disappear as we headed for Regium.

“So are you gonna finally tell me who Rask is?” I asked as we flew.

He smirked. “He comes from an old fable Vysanthean parents tell their kids—about an ancient god from the old days, when Vysanthe first rose from the ice. He’s a god of mischief and balance, offering a trick or a treat wherever he goes. It’s why we say his name when something good or bad has happened.”

I suppressed a smile—finding it funny that what seemed to be one of their worst swear words came from a kid’s fairytale. I looked out at the view, picturing a shadowy deity, lauding his power across the frosty landscape of Vysanthe.