Page 184 of Veil of Blood and Bone

Not rats, but giants.

They crashed through old England and trashed the place.

Helene yells from inside the ruined car, clutching what looks like the headrest in her hands. Audra huddles at her side and the stench of their fear is the only tangible solid thing in this world of no substance.

It’s a blur of panic. Of pain.

Only endless walls of white cut through with glimpses of inky tree limbs bowing under the weight of slush. Already we step through a minefield of fallen branches like spears.

And Forest, curled in a broken heap on the ground…

Ice forms inside my lungs, and snow swallows sound. It warps my sense of direction. No wonder I’d lost the scent trail. It’s impossible to keep my senses from malfunctioning.

I head right, keeping Isvargr in my line of sight while Wren goes left.

“I had no clue frost giant assassins are in such high demand lately,” he tells the jötun. “Who hired you this time?”

Gods and Fae alike make use of frost giants like Isvargr. And if we kill him, he will only be the first of many.

Another will come to take his place. And another.

Stomach hollowed, jaw aching, I glance again at Helene. Soon enough the crushed carcass of the car will be buried beneath a mound of snow and ice. We need to get them out. Now.

Isvargr cranes his head to watch us both, to mark any sudden movements.

“Rock, paper, scissors for which one of us gets the girl and which one goes ice fishing?” Wren asks.

I shove down a growl. “We do this together. We kick this thing’s ass before he sends the world into another ice age.”

Vampire sight is a blessing and a curse.

Despite the distance, each new line on Helene’s face stands to attention. The frozen blood on her forehead hooks me, a siren’s song, droplets of it splattered on the steering wheel.

In this deep freeze, it refuses to dry.

Nerves nip along my spine, using the bones to ladder their way up to the base of my skull.

Something is wrong.

This moment is poised and rife with meaning. Uncertainty.

Held in a perpetual and unsustainable tension.

But she isn’t giving up, not even with the storm from hell and a huge as fuck frost giant.

I take another step to the right, and ice snaps underfoot. Isvargr snarls at the sound. We are fucked.

“It’s going to take both of us to bring him down,” I mutter. “He’s too strong.”

Isvargr’s size—like a family sedan—coupled with jötun healing abilities? We’re outmatched. Frost giants are notoriously hard to kill without physical flesh to penetrate.

If we fail and the ice wolf freezes us to our bones and takes off with Helene, the new weaving of fate won’t matter.

“Nicholas, stop making blanket statements before we’ve drawn first blood. It’s boring.” Wren’s shadows writhe, darker than the nightmares in these woods.

Jokes aside, his eyes are black pools. His footsteps light, creeping.

I barely breathe. Helene’s taste lingers on my tongue as we circle the beast, trees blocking the road.