Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:37:11 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - Part 17

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction, and contains scenes of graphic violence and
explicit male/male sex. If you are not of the legal age to read this, or
are uncomfortable with this sort of content, please turn back now.

HIS TOUCH OF ICE (The Ice Men, Book 1) is copyright © Kody Boye. All
Rights are reserved.

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"Long before I was born," Guy said as we paced along the edge of an
informational marker, gesturing for me to sit on one of the stone platforms
that looked out into the distant hill country, "my father was supposed to
lead a series of his disciples from the various parts of Scandinavian
Europe and bring them to the Americas in an attempt to preserve our
culture. At the time, we were still a blossoming people intent on carving
out a purpose in our small part of Norway. Our country was great,
then—at the beginnings of its power, when we couldn't go nowhere but
up. We'd established nearly thirty kingdoms by the turn of the eighth
century. Then... the Vikings showed up."

Guy sighed. He settled down beside me and idly reached into his pocket, as
if hoping to pull out a pack of cigarettes, but quickly retrieved his hand
when he was unable to find what he was looking for.

"Most had left the coast due to the lack of land that was
available. Greenland, Iceland, Ireland, the Faroe Islands—it'd make
sense, if you think about it, because what use was there in staying in a
land where there was nothing available?

"Anyway, the long story short was that my people were barely nonexistent to
begin with. We lived on a small series of islands to the east of Bergen and
basically lived off the land—keeping to ourselves, not making ourselves
well known, that sort of thing."

"I'm not sure I understand," I continued, reaching up to finger the sore
spot along my skull. "You said this happened in the eighth century."

"Yeah."

"But you started by talking about your father."

Guy's eyes settled on me in the moments following my question. "Do you
remember me telling you to trust me?" he said. "And when I said I wasn't
like most normal guys?"

The rings around his eyes, though hidden, were clear and stark in my
head—both glowing, both alien in their own and unusual way.

Guy didn't wait for me to answer. Instead, he reached down, set his hand
over mine, and said, "I'm what my father calls the Svell Kaldr—the
ice-cold, or the true people of Norway. He usually just refers to us as the
Kaldr."

"So... you're vampires then?" I asked, hesitant to allow my hand to stay
beneath his after such a declaration.

"God no," Guy laughed. "We're anything but."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I don't suck blood, for one. And for two, I can go out in the
daylight. Crosses don't bother me either." He reached beneath his shirt and
withdrew the fixture I'd seen but a few times around his neck and fingered
the bridge in the center.

"You're not damned then?"

"You mean under Him?" Guy asked, rolling his eyes up to the sky. "I don't
know. I've never really given much thought to it. I wear it as a sign of my
mortality, despite my inability to age. Let me tell you—I'd be dead if
he'd've shot me in the head."

"Do you... uh... believe?"

"I have hope. One should when they see such horrible things in life."

"I guess I'm just having a hard time believing in all this... stuff."

"What's hard to believe?"

"You say you're not a vampire—"

"I'm not."

"And you're saying they don't exist—"

"I never said any such thing."

"So... I guess what I'm asking is—"

"Yes, Jason," Guy said. "There are more of my kind out there, just like
there are more of the Sanguine or Howlers. The world's a scary
place. There's monsters around every corner."

"Why me, though? Why bring me into all of this?"

"If I had a choice, we'd still be in Austin, sleeping in my apartment or
talking on the sofa. I never meant for this to happen to you. I merely
wanted to help."

I didn't say anything. Guy spun around and pushed himself off the brickwork
fence before starting back toward the Lexus.

"I brought you with me because I knew there'd be questions," he
continued. "And because you'd be seen as an accomplice to multiple
murders."

"You mean someone else like you was in Austin? The Ladybird Lake Killer?"

"There's a rat in our system, and it was looking to set me up. I just wish
I knew who." The crunch of Guy's shoes across the dirt continued until he
stopped in place. "Come on. We need to keep moving. I don't want anyone to
follow us."

That was as good a reason as ever.

Standing, I brushed the dirt off my pants and slid into the car.

Just before Guy flipped the ignition, he gave me a look I knew showed
trust.
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If you enjoyed this installment of HIS TOUCH OF ICE, consider emailing the
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