Chapter 1
FIRE MAGIC & ICE CREAM
QUINN
My body is on fire and not in a good way.
“Door!” I screech, sprinting through the kitchen, my bare feet squeaking on the tiles.
Luckily, Cat doesn’t hesitate. She jumps from her stool and whips open the sliding glass door.
I knew there was a reason she was my favorite sister.
The sun beats down from high in the blue Phoenix sky. Anyone else might find the intense rays uncomfortably warm. But most other people don’t run around wrapped in a toga of flaming bedsheets.
Fortunately for me, a swimming pool sits a couple of frantic leaps out the back door. The water shimmers, its calm surface cool and inviting.
I wreck the tranquil scene with a self-serving cannonball.
Safely in the water, I hold my breath and stay immersed. The cool, gentle cradle helps to soothe my racing pulse and clear my panicked mind. When I can think again, the only thing that keeps me from groaning in mortification is the fact that I would drown myself in the process.
I can only deal with one life-threatening event each day.
My lungs ache, demanding I stop pouting and give them some well-deserved oxygen. With a strong kick of my legs, I break the surface and breathe in deep.
“Hey, Fireball. You have an accident?”
Immediately, I miss the almost-meditative silence of being underwater. Harley, my older sister, grins at me from her poolside lounge chair.
I do my best to affect a casual air, which is an impressive feat for someone treading water while clutching the charred remains of a bedsheet to cover her naked body.
“I wouldn’t call it an accident. Merely a failed experiment,” I say.
That does her in. Harley collapses back on the cushions, cackling like an evil villain. I imagine the red-gold curls spiraling down to her shoulders are Medusa’s snakes.
As Harley shakes in mirth, the sunlight glistens on her gloriously tanned skin. She’s one of those elusive redheads whose melanin decided to work right. The only reason someone might mistake me for tan is because I have so many freckles that they blend into a solid brown blur at a distance.
Big sisters suck.
Cat, who followed after my mad dash from the house, settles at the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in and offering me a sympathetic smile.
Baby sisters are much preferred.
Once Harley calms down enough to talk, she gifts me with a smirk. “Guess those flame-retardant sheets didn’t work out like you were hoping.”
“Not exactly.” The blackened edges float wistfully in the water around me.
Not for the first time, I curse the means in which my Elemental gift chose to show itself.
Dad told the three of us, once we were old enough to understand, that the Byrnes descended from one of the rare family lines who could trace their origins back to the ancient Elemental Gods.
Our ancestor being the Goddess of Fire.
“One day, your powers will reveal themselves.”
“When?” Harley, the oldest and most demanding of us, asked.
“I’m not sure. But the magic is normally tied up with a strong emotion. And it will likely be different for each one of you. None of you need to worry though. I will help you. I’ll teach you how to control the fire, like my mother taught me.”
Dad kept to his word, helping Harley when she was thirteen and her fear of a rattlesnake ended up setting the whole front yard on fire. And again, when Cat was eleven and her anger melted the tires off the bike of a bully who had been mocking her best friend.
Fear. Anger. Those were emotions my dad could incite in them enough to practice. He was mostly successful. I’d say, ninety percent of the time, my sisters were in complete control of their abilities.
But when I was fourteen and the sight of a teenage heartthrob singing about basketball on my TV had the couch underneath me going up in flames, we ran into a problem.
No way in hell was I going to try getting aroused when my dad was anywhere in the vicinity.
I insisted on practicing by myself.
Unfortunately, that meant no one was waiting to douse the heat if it got out of hand.
Fourteen years later, and I’m still setting furniture on fire.
“It’s not fair!” My feet settle on the pool floor, my body having floated to the shallow end. “I can’t even touch myself unless I’m in the shower.”
“You could always hook up with a Squid,” Cat supplies, her voice gentle.
If it were Harley who had made the suggestion, I would’ve snapped back. Instead, I groan in defeat.
“All the Squids are cocky bastards. You can barely stand to be around them, and you’re one of the most chill people in the world. Last time you ran into one, you melted his shoes to the ground.”
Cat blushes at the reminder. Most people are shocked when they see a girl so sweet lose her temper. But I love it. She’s glorious when she’s in a rage.
“I’m not saying talk to them. Just … sleep with one.”
The plan might appear good in theory, but reality is often a disappointing bitch. A Squid helped me pop my cherry.
Even in my brain, that sounds gross.
Correction: a Water Elemental was my first. And what a disappointing event that was.
Twenty-two and desperate, I caved. When the guy was finally naked, he spread his arms wide and raised a set of thick eyebrows, as if to say, You’re welcome.
Suffice it to say, I didn’t have to battle my fire too badly during that drunken escapade.
Whenever a little flame popped up, he’d just douse it with a wave of his fingers.
So, I know what a dick feels like inside me, but I would’ve thought a Water Elemental would be better at getting a girl wet.
A repeat held no appeal, and I was back to practicing on my own.
And failing miserably at it.
“Forget Squids. Quinn runs so hot that she needs an Ice Elemental,” Harley declares as she rubs on a generous coating of tanning oil.
I snort in response. “Sure. I’ll go out and find one of those. And I bet he’ll be riding a unicorn on his way home from tea with Bigfoot.”
None of us have ever met a descendant of the God of Ice.
Dad said they were rumored to have died off over a century ago.
Elementals in general are rare. Phoenix is home to well over a million people, and there are maybe fifty of us magic wielders among that number.
Possibly more, but it’s not like we put our powers on display.
That’s a good way to get yourself dissected in some government lab.
No thank you.
We keep our abilities to ourselves and fit in with the humans as best we can.
Harley twirls a curl around her middle finger. “I fucked a guy with big feet. And I’m talking mythically large. Plus, he had more hair than an entire waxing parlor could handle.”
“Are you trying to tell us that you not only met Bigfoot, but that you also slept with him?” Cat asks, flicking water at our big sister.
Harley fiddles her own fingers, evaporating the droplets before they land on her sun-drenched skin. “I’m just saying, you never know what’s out there. Maybe you need to take a sex pilgrimage north. Search the wild, frozen tundra to find yourself an Icie.”
“An Icie?” I tug the mostly disintegrated sheet around my legs as I head for the pool stairs. “Is that what we’re calling them?”
At some point, someone made up nicknames for each of the Elemental descendant groups. Squids, Petal Pushers, Airheads, Stoners, and Pyros. They aren’t the most flattering, but we all seem to have embraced them.
Harley shrugs. “Nah. I can think of something better. Give me a minute.”
As I climb out of the water, dripping and barely covered by my singed bedding, a rush of jealousy overwhelms me at the sight of Harley, so relaxed and carefree on her lounge chair, and Cat, calm and rational while making gentle waves with her feet.
Both of them are able to explore their sexuality, sleep with whoever they want, without worrying that they might barbecue their partners or turn their bedrooms into ashes.
“Why are you here? This is Cat’s and my house. Ever think we might like our privacy?” I know I sound spiteful, but I’m strung tight and looking for a fight.
My big sister lies back on her chair with a smug smile. “My apartment doesn’t have a pool. Plus, I like to be around when you turn into a fiery comet of lust.”
“Why? So you can mock me?”
A flicker of something wicked flashes behind Harley’s hazel eyes. “No, though that is a fun bonus.” She holds a hand up to stop my angry growl. “I’m here because I know a perfect way to cool you down.”
…
“This is a horrible idea.”
I shouldn’t have gotten out of the car, but I realized where we were too late. Harley already pressed the button to lock the doors.
“It’s my idea, which means it’s genius. This is exactly what you need, Fireball.” Harley saunters across the steaming parking lot.
With another mighty tug, I try heaving open the car door. My effort is futile.
Cat hovers, dancing from foot to foot. “You told me you wanted to try this place.”
Sometimes, I wish my little sister had more evil in her, like Harley. Then I could give her a proper glare for outing my secret longing.
“I said I wanted to try it, but that I can’t. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’re walking into an ammo store, about to set off all the gunpowder,” Harley growls at me, already at the front door. “It’s an ice cream shop, for goddess’s sake.”
I know exactly what it is. Land of Ice Cream and Snow.
The newest addition to the strip mall where I get my biweekly pedicures.
Every time I hobble out of Tulip’s Nails with my fresh coat of polish, the acid smell of acrylics clears from my nose, and I get hit with the most delicious scent imaginable.
Waffle cones.
Even though it’s torture, I tend to take a roundabout route to my car, just so I can glance in the windows. Not that I ever see much. The interior is dimmer than the blazing Arizona sun.
The easy solution would be to walk into the shop, but I’ve never done it. Not once.
“I can’t go in there!” I lean back on the car, arms crossed.
“Why not?” Harley glares, fists on her hips.
“You know why! The second I step through that door, I’ll melt their entire stock. I’m a menace!”
“Oh, Quinn. You’re not a menace.” The distress in Cat’s voice almost makes me take the description back. Just to keep from upsetting her.
Harley stalks across the parking lot, coming to stand in front of me.
“Listen here, Little Miss Firecracker. You might not be able to control your powers yet, but I can. You start to spark, I’ll shut you down.
Now get your apple bottom in gear because I’m practically orgasming from the smell of that place, and I’m not about to rush through eating because you’re pouting in the car. ”
We meet scowl for scowl, but I give up first. Probably because this ice cream shop has been taunting me for months.
“You really think you can keep my heat in check?”
My big sister loses her annoyance at my hesitant question, replacing her glower with a saucy grin. “Hell yeah, I can. Could help you out other times, too, if you weren’t such a prude.”
“Gross! I don’t care how kinky your job is. We are not that kind of family.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not asking to be in the room with you like some poorly written porno. I could sit outside your door, read a magazine or something, and make sure you don’t burn the house down.” Harley tilts her head as she looks me over. “Are you super loud or something?”
“Gah!” I cover my ears and sprint for the front of the shop. “Stay the hell away from me and my sexy times!”
Through the earmuffs I’ve created with my hands, I pick up my sisters’ laughter. Ignoring them, I take the step I’ve been holding back ever since Land of Ice Cream and Snow flipped on their Open sign.
I grab the handle and slide in through the front door.
What greets me steals all the words from my throat. My nose was already full of sweet scents when I stepped inside, but before my eyes can scan the room, my entire body focuses on the feel of the place.
Cold.
The sensation skitters over my skin, prickling tiny goose bumps and eliciting a shiver.
A shiver.
Shivers and goose bumps aren’t for people like me with a constant fire sitting just below the surface of my skin. But here, in this ice cream shop, I experience the sensation of being chilly for the first time in my life.
The bell chiming over my head alerts me to my sisters’ arrival.
I whirl around to clutch Harley’s shoulders. “This is amazing! I didn’t think you could control the fire this much!” I’m so moved that I rise on my toes to press a kiss to her cheek.
She stares at me with eyebrows scrunched together and her lips pursed in a confused smile. “What?”
“Oh my gosh. I’ve never … this place is so cool!” Cat’s exclamation as she dodges around us breaks into my out-of-character thank-you.
Moving past my first experience with the sensation of cold, I finally take in my surroundings. No wonder I was never able to spy much from outside the window.
Most ice cream parlors are all bright colors and delicate furniture. Cute little shops that bring to mind quirky sprinkles or fragile ice sculptures.
Land of Ice Cream and Snow crushes the idea of delicacy under the heel of its heavy boot.
This place resembles the homestead of some rugged mountain man or the headquarters of a Viking clan.
Solid wooden furniture stretches the length of each wall, and the floor is dark oak.
Lights hang from the ceiling, giving off a low glow—small areas of warmth in the stark terrain of the shop.
I’m not even sure shop is the right word.
More like a cabin. A cabin that sells ice cream.
A handful of people sit, talking and eating.
I expect, if we came a couple of hours later, after dinnertime, this place would be overrun with sugar-hungry customers.
A granite slab serves as a counter in the back of the shop, and next to it is the one familiar item all ice cream parlors possess—a glass container to view the offered flavors.
I take a single step before realizing the danger behind the counter.
A man.
But not just a man. This man is … well … a man.
I think I’ve found the Viking who pillaged and plundered and built this cabin of a shop with his bare hands.
A black T-shirt stretches over shoulders wide enough for me to perch on one side and Cat on the other.
His strong ivory face belongs in a superhero movie.
Sculpted cheekbones, square jaw, and enough golden stubble to leave a delicious burn on the inside of my thighs.
Oh shit.
The wonderful cold sensation drifts away as my inner fire senses a rising lust. Heat trails just underneath my skin, pulsing with a life of its own.
“I was right. This is a horrible idea.”
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