No Promises, No Lies (Devils & Darlings #1)

1. Again

1

AGAIN

RORY

“ A gain.”

Karina’s harsh tone echoes through the empty arena. So loud that even though she’s across the ice, there’s no way I can pretend I haven’t heard her.

I lay where I fell, failing again to land the triple-triple combination I’m known for.

Leaning my head back against the cold ice, I close my eyes. It’s been months since the accident. It shouldn’t be this hard.Cold leeches through the thin body suit of my skating dress and I soak it in. It feels good. Despite the thin material, I’m burning up after racing through my routine over and over.

A door slam interrupts the brief moment of peace.

Shit .

Reluctantly, I open my eyes to find my coach glaring down at me. The thick fur of Karina’s winter coat tightly hugs her chin. Thin lips turned down in a frown of displeasure. She’s painted them a crimson red, a close match to her fiery auburn hair, which is pulled tight against her skull in a severe bun.

“Get up Aurora.”

It’s Rory , I hiss in my head, begrudgingly pushing myself up off the ice while avoiding Karina’s eyes. I busy myself brushing the snow and sleet from my velvet skirt.

I don’t bother correcting her. Karina’s been my coach for over a year now. She knows what I prefer?—

She just doesn’t care.

As the most sought after skating coach on the East Coast, she can call me whatever she pleases. She’s the best in the business. And probably my last hope of making the national team this year.

“I will see it again.”

There will be no argument. I’ll do it again.

And again.

And again .

As many times as she wishes, I will do it. And maybe... just maybe... one of those times, I’ll land it..

Jaw locked, I skate back over to the corner, settling my breath and straightening my spine. Get your shit together, Kostalova.

This time last year, I was the reigning national champion. I was as solid as the ice I was skating on, a favorite for this year’s Olympic team. Now look at me…I’ll be lucky to land the wildcard bid to even compete at nationals.

Karina remains on the ice this time, watching me with pursed lips and folded arms.

My music starts again—an excerpt from Swan Lake. But movement at the top row of the arena draws my attention and I miss my cue.

Far back up in the stands, in an area of the arena mostly veiled in shadow, a figure rises. The weight of his gaze heavy on me before turning away and disappearing out into the concourse.

Awesome…

“You’re a disappointment.” Karina’s eyes have followed mine. Her words hold no emotion. She’s not trying to taunt me; she’s just stating facts. “Your father spending all this money for you to fail.” Karina clicks her tongue in disapproval.

My cheeks burn with both my frustration and embarrassment.

“Perhaps if you would take advice and lean out more, we would see you complete rotation.” Her Russian accent and stunted English do nothing but sharpen the already harsh criticism. My coach stares down at me like I’m nothing but a waste of her time. We both know my father’s money and influence are the only reason she even took me on.The nineteen-year-old has-been.

I don’t react and she sighs loudly. Something akin to disappointment flashes across her face before she waves her perfectly manicured hand in my direction. “Again.”

The music re-starts and this time I push forward, my blades digging into the ice, gaining speed before switching onto my inside edge.

Karina’s words don’t bother me as much as she thinks they do. Professional figure skating is not for the soft skinned. Nothing she could say to me could get in my head. But her words echo my own self doubts, giving them fuel.

Her methods may be brutal, and her words harsh, but if anyone can help me, it’s Karina Valgova.

And I need to be better.

To be the best.

Because I’m running out of time.

I fly through the complicated footwork section of my routine, pushing loose strands of hair out of my face before leaning into a crowd-pleasing cross-ice spiral.

Nailing it.

I’m barely halfway through the routine before my focus slips and my thoughts stray back to my father.

He’d been watching today. I’ve been skating at the Edge Arena all summer and he’s never once stopped in. It gives weight to my theory that something is up. Things have been tense at home. No one has said anything, but it’s in the air. Something’s different. Something’s changed.

The deal we made comes to mind just as I launch into the first triple. Landing it, I take off immediately into the second, thrusting my toe-pick into the ice. But I over-rotate, landing hard against the unforgiving ice, sliding across the rink until the boards stop me.

This time, I don’t waste a second. I’m back on my feet before Karina can even utter a word, already skating back to the far corner.

Again .

Fear has an ugly taste. I dig my blades into the ice and start again. The stress and impact from my repeated falls kick up the familiar dizzy feeling in my head.

I grind my teeth.

Not now.

After I exit my first spin, the vertigo worsens and I stumble off a simple three-turn.

Finally, I relent. Pulling out of the routine and skating for the bench, I keep my eyes on the ice, unable to meet Karina’s eye as I tear through my bag. I search for the little orange bottle of pills.

My fingers close around the bottle, and I release a breath, quickly shaking two small pills out and swallowing them with a cool rush of water. Leaning back against the bench and closing my eyes, I wait for the spinning to stop. The medicine is fast-acting but I will it to work faster.

I’m running out of time .

After a minute, Karina joins me, lowering herself gracefully onto the hockey bench. “I admire intensity but… you skate like life depends on it. Where is love, where is passion for skating?”

I take another long drink of water, grounding my head and avoiding the question.

I do love skating. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here every freaking day getting my ass kicked by frozen water!

But she is right about one thing: this is life or death.There is gold in my future, that much is certain. But whether it’s a gold medal or a gold ring— depends on me.

Opening my eyes, I set down my water, the vertigo fading away. I rise on shaky knees that have nothing to do with the long-term effects of my concussion.

“Again.”