Outcast, page 23
Will anything survive the changes, or will all her fears become manifest?
Frigid, is the first book in a prequel trilogy to the USA Today Bestselling Shifter Academy: Siren Prophecy series. Fans will love the connections and nods to the beloved characters as many of their ancestors star in this trilogy including dragon princess, Aline Dracul — relation to Kol Dracul; Evandrus Quinn — a phoenix ancestor of the fire-bird, Juliet Quinn; Gemma MacLugh — a strong selkie of Kenzie MacLugh’s line; and last but not least, Leif Villers, the conflicted vampire himself when he was still human and very much like an older brother to Camilla.
Frigid releases on July 2nd! Click here to preorder: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07R92RY3Y/
Turn the page for a sneak peek of Frigid!
FRIGID CHAPTER 1
SNEAK PEEK
Aline Elana Dracul.
That name sounded so familiar. Camilla Frost was uncharacteristically quiet as she hitched her skirts and led the pair — Aline Dracul and her companion — up the stairs to their individual rooms while she sorted her memory.
Dracul. Dracul.
Every boarder who had ever come to her family’s home, the Frost Boarding House, had become amicable acquaintances, dear friends, and some were practically family. Because of that, Camilla loved showing new boarders to their rooms and volunteered for the task if she wasn’t otherwise engaged. Miss Dracul seemed important somehow, and she wanted to make a good impression. They might become the best of friends, after all.
Leif Villers was once a new boarder. At least ten years ago. She often had to remind herself that he wasn’t actually her older brother.
Camilla glanced back as covertly as she could when the new arrivals rounded the staircase landing. Although the cream head wrap covered the color and texture of Miss Dracul’s hair, it didn’t hide the beauty of her face and her fierce icy blue eyes. She looked only a year or two older than Camilla herself, but she only dared a cursory glance because she felt the waves of importance and high class with a force as if decades separated them. There was a clear gap of poise and etiquette training that was evident in the regal way Miss Dracul lilted up the stairs, yet kept her posture perfectly aligned.
With brown eyes and hair that were almost the same color, and her own features absent of the sharp angles that complimented Miss Dracul’s jawline and cheekbones, Camilla felt plain next to her. Plus, her dress fell out of style more than a season ago and told the story of more than one well-worn spot that had required mending.
Perhaps they would not become fast friends.
Camilla’s eyes drifted to the gentleman.
Evandrus Quinn. His name did not sound familiar, the way Miss Dracul’s did, but the orange redness of his dark hair reminded Camilla a bit of Gemma’s hair — Gemma MacLugh, another boarder who was as a sister but shared no blood relation — but that was where the similarities ended. He was tall, built, his skin browned with sun, and… She didn’t allow her thoughts to move too far in that direction, but he was not unpleasant to look at. She also sensed a notable quality about him she could not name.
Upon their arrival, Mr. Quinn explained that he was the traveling companion of Miss Dracul, but it was clear he held a more important role to her, which was more than a little disappointing.
Who were they?
Who was she?
Aline Elana Dracul.
“Thank you, Miss Frost,” Miss Dracul said with a curt nod when they arrived at her room.
It surprised Camilla the high lady remembered her name, but assumed that staying at the Frost Boarding House aided in her memory. She offered a small curtsy.
From the corner of her eye, Camilla caught movement just inside the door. Leif had carried Miss Dracul’s and Mr. Quinn’s trunks up the stairs while they discussed the payment and length of their stay with Camilla’s father, so the movement only meant one thing.
“Anna Fuller, if you are rifling through Miss Dracul’s trunks…” Camilla warned, stalking into the room as a curly blonde head ducked on the other side of the bed. But as soon as she did, a shorter blonde head vanished from the room with red and purple silks trailing behind her. “Maria!” Camilla shouted and followed her. “Excuse me just a moment,” she said to Miss Dracul as she brushed past her and down the hallway.
The girl was fast. She scrambled down the stairs, making it difficult for Camilla to keep up. But she would not let a six-year-old get the best of her and took the stairs two at a time.
“Maria!” she shouted again, racing through the entrance hall after the thief who had escaped to the front porch. If Leif was in the house, he would have intercepted the little imp in her tracks, but he’d most likely returned to the orchard, leaving Camilla to deal with the girl herself. Mr. and Mrs. Fuller, Anna and Maria’s parents, had gone to town on one errand or another so she could not count on Maria stopping after hearing the firm tone of her father.
But Maria wouldn’t run long. Camilla knew about her secret hideout. When she pushed out the door, she slowed, stepping deliberately.
“Aw, shucks!” Camilla exaggerated, snapping a finger. “That Maria Fuller is too quick for me. Oh well! I suppose I will just have to tell Miss Dracul that her silks are gone forever.” She stomped as if re-entering the house in defeat.
A tiny giggle sounded from beneath the porch.
Camilla walked lightly, keeping on her tip-toes to prevent the heels of her shoes from clomping down on the planks, reducing the noise of her steps. She walked down the steps and rounded to the space underneath the porch. Maria’s back was to her, her hands covering her mouth as she tried to stifle her girlish laughter.
“Gotcha!” Camilla said, grabbing her upper arm. She squealed like a pig at the county fair.
Maria pouted, jutting her bottom lip in attempts to force a cry — and failed — but Camilla would have none of it and snatched the red and purple silk scarves from the thief’s fingers. “There’s no need to cry, Maria,” she said firmly, but with a smile. “These do not belong to you. They belong to Miss Dracul.”
Maria was known to hold her breath until she turned purple after getting caught in one of her shenanigans, fortunately she became distracted by the silks again and asked, “Is Miss Dracul a princess?”
“She does seem very regal,” Camilla agreed, grateful the tantrum was averted and took Maria’s hand to help her out from beneath the stairs. “But I do not think so.” She leaned down until she was eye-to-eye with the youngster. “But princess or not, it is not kind to take things that do not belong to you.”
Maria looked up at Camilla through her long lashes, but didn’t respond.
“Do you understand?”
Maria nodded.
“How would you feel if I took your things?” Camilla asked. “Would you like it if I took your favorite doll?”
“No. No!” Maria exclaimed. “She’s mine!”
“Exactly.” Camilla pulled the girl into a hug. “Please do not take other people’s things.” Then she ushered the girl off to play and walked at a more dignified pace back upstairs to return the scarves to Miss Dracul.
“I apologize for that,” Camilla offered, handing the fine possessions back to the lady. Miss Dracul hadn’t moved an inch since the incident and still stood outside her room. “The Fuller children can be… very lively. Please let us know if they are a nuisance.”
“Thank you, Miss Frost,” Miss Dracul said examining her returned property. “Clearly, no harm was done.” Her smile reached her eyes and Camilla breathed easier seeing that their new tenant was not upset. “Now, which one will Mr. Quinn be staying in? I would require him to be close to my room.”
The implications were clear. “We do not permit unmarried ladies and gentlemen to be in one another’s rooms past sundown,” Camilla said, trying to hide the judgment from her voice.
Miss Dracul’s cheeks pinked. “Mr. Quinn is my protective guard, Miss Frost,” her tone suggested that Camilla should know who Aline Elana Dracul was, but Camilla still could not place her. “It is imperative that his rooms are close to mine.”
Without a word Camilla gestured to the next door down the hallway, but saw a flash of iridescent purple before she turned her head that caught her attention. Thinking she’d failed to notice an expensive and telling piece of jewelry that might finally trigger her memory, she looked back at Miss Dracul and her eyes widened.
The scales were almost faded from the back of her hand, but were clearly there.
Camilla made a hasty excuse of being needed elsewhere and left the two to fend for themselves before skittering back down the stairs.
***
“They cannot stay!” Camilla burst into the library where she knew she’d find her father. Her unruly hair escaped from their pins in her frantic state.
Reid Frost sat in his overstuffed chair in the corner, one leg propped on the other, with the newspaper resting. It was his mid-morning ritual. He glanced over the top of his spectacles at Camilla, expression unchanged.
Camilla glanced at the doorway and closed it behind her before approaching him. “They are changers, Father.”
He removed his glasses and re-folded the paper.
“Aline Elana Dracul?” She emphasized the name. “She is a Dracul!” Seeing the scales on the back of Aline’s hand finally jogged Camilla’s memory and why the name was so familiar. The Dracul’s were famous. The Dracul’s were from wealth and starred in the society section of the most prestigious New York papers. The Dracul’s were connected. The Dracul’s were high society.
And what most did not know, but Camilla Frost did, was that the Dracul’s were changers.
Of the dragon type.
“I am well aware of the people I board, Camilla,” he said.
“But they are…” She paused, then sat next to her father and finished her thought in a low hiss. Daring to speak what they were.
He smiled, leaning back with the end of his glasses between his teeth.
“You do not believe me?” she asked. “Father, you must hear what I am telling you.”
Her father replaced his spectacles and resumed his posture before re-opening the paper. “I believe you.”
“Father, they are dangerous.” Her voice lowered in fear and she pressed her hands into the folds of her dress, clasping them until her knuckles turned white. “You must make them leave,” she said. “They cannot stay. I suspect the gentleman also changes, though I do not know what he is.”
“I will not turn out a guest,” he said, like it was nothing at all and wouldn’t look at her. “They will not harm us.”
Camilla stalked from the room out the front doors, then rushed around the house to the apple orchard. Leif would understand. Leif would be on her side. She let the anger and frustration churn cold within her as she tramped through the leaves and sticks between the trees. Each step spiraling her bitter outrage further.
Leif would talk sense into her father, he had to. Father trusted and listened to him. Mr. Frost viewed Leif as the son he never had. It was not yet written, but Leif would inherit the boarding house and orchard if Camilla’s future husband had no desire for it. She couldn’t imagine her father trusting anyone as well as he trusted Leif in a matter so close to his heart.
Camilla walked halfway through the orchard before catching sight of her dark-haired, blue eyed, not quite brother.
“Leif!” She called, injecting anger into her voice. “Leif! You must talk some sense into Father!” But then she caught sight of the person with him. Copper toned curls tied up to perfection. Gemma.
It didn’t look like they were in an untoward situation, and nothing official had ever been spoken between the pair, but it embarrassed Camilla to be interrupting the precious moment between her unofficial adopted brother and his almost fiancé. Wedding bells were certainly in Leif and Gemma’s near future and though she had only known Gemma a little over a month, they felt almost as sisters with a lifetime of shared memories. Leif could not have picked a better person to fall in love with.
It tempted Camilla to back away and give the couple privacy — her cause could wait — but she’d already made her presence known by calling out to Leif, so she slowed, but continued to walk.
As always Gemma did not seem annoyed or angered by the interruption. The smile on her face was genuine. Gemma was the best person Camilla knew. It wasn’t a surprise that Camilla felt such a close kinship to her in such a short time.
Leif shot Camilla a withering look, but he’d been her brother for ten years. He’d earned the right to be agitated.
When Gemma took a moment to check Leif’s expression, Camilla shot him an apologetic half-smile, but she was almost certain it was Gemma’s influence that wiped the look away from his face. She resisted the urge to smile wider. Still, she would get half a tongue-lashing from him when his beloved was away.
As she neared, Leif resumed the pruning he’d clearly abandoned in favor of Gemma.
“What ails you, Camilla?” Leif asked with only a small amount of irritation lacing his tone.
The question re-surfaced the icy anger. “Some new boarders just arrived.”
“Yes, I assisted with their trunks, but your father said he was expecting some several days ago,” Leif said, matter-of-fact. His eyes glued to his work.
“He was expecting them?”
“He received a wire last week of their impending arrival.”
“And did it say who was coming?” Camilla put her hands on her hips and furrowed her eyebrows. She resisted the urge to pitch a fit the way she did when she was younger. Leif brought out the less-mature side of Camilla. He could be so grating sometimes.
Leif shrugged then finally turned to look at her. His expression fell into the familiar one that pointed out her childishness which always made her even more angry with him, so she dropped her hands and attempted to calm her nerves and keep her voice even.
“Aline Dracul. And her protection guard.”
Camilla did not fail to notice Gemma’s eyes widen. Camilla wanted to shout that she did not approve, but when Gemma shot a worried look at Leif that he didn’t seem to notice, she decided not to call attention to her obvious knowledge.
She would have to ask her about that later.
“I am not familiar with the name,” Leif said.
Camilla threw her hands in the air and resisted the urge to pull the pins from her hair. “It is because you have not read the society section!” She was being irrational and she knew it, but couldn’t help herself. “And that shouldn’t matter anyway because anyone of their kind should not be boarding here!”
“Of their kind?” Leif pressed.
“Changers,” Camilla whispered and glanced at Gemma for a reaction she didn’t get. How she wished Gemma came into her life sooner. If they were more familiar, Gemma might read Camilla’s thoughts with a glance. “The dragon kind.”
“They are Romanian royalty,” Gemma said. “In a broad sense, but Aline is in the direct line. Her father is the youngest brother and so would never rule in any capacity.”
She spoke as if that fact made Aline’s presence less bothersome.
Gemma and Leif shared another look.
“Leif?” Camilla pressed.
“I trust Mr. Frost’s judgment,” he said.
The traitor.
Camilla huffed, then stomped off to look for her mother.
She found her in the kitchen in her element: orchestrating preparations for the midday meal and making masterful pastries worthy of Clark County awards. If she’d been in a better mood, she would have asked to help.
“Aline Dracul might be a changer but she is not a monster. None of them are monsters,” Jane Frost said with a smudge of flour on her cheek. “In this boarding house, we turn away no one. No matter their station, no matter their appearance, no matter their gifts.”
It was hard to argue that. Camilla agreed that they should accept all people at the house. Those who could not pay the full rate would help with cleaning or laundry or grounds work. Those who didn’t speak English or had a different color of skin were never offered a lesser room if the best was available. Camilla was proud to know people from all walks of life and from all corners of the Earth came to stay at the boarding house.
But changers?
Most guests were from different parts of the western United States such as California, Oregon and different parts of Washington. A few came from farther away: Illinois, New York — like Gemma — or the Carolina’s, but they’d also housed and fed Egyptians and Arabs, Chinese and British.
But they weren’t changers. None of them had ever been changers. They were all human.
Camilla suspected when the Johnson Boarding House, who housed the occasional changer, went out of business that that this could be a possibility. A possibility, but never a reality. Especially since the Dulcet House was still in running operation. It was practically a well-known fact that Mr. Dulcet was some type of were so housing changers wasn’t an impropriety for his establishment. Camilla stayed away from all the Dulcet’s out of her own self-preservation, even her childhood friend Michael.
She never dreamed in her wildest nightmares that her father would actually accept anyone of their kind. He’d never done it before. Like the gentleman he was, her father was cordial to Mr. Dulcet, but she never thought he’d actually allow a changer to stay under their roof.
And then her father, her mother, and even Leif acted like she was in the wrong. No doubt, Grandmother Frost was rolling in her grave.
Camilla skulked off to hide amongst the apple crates along the side of the house. There was a small nook where she was completely concealed unless someone walked right past her. She’d hid there whenever she needed a moment of reprieve, or whenever something injured her pride. Which happened more often than she’d like to admit.
Camilla contemplated if there was somewhere else she might stay the night. Visions of fire-eating monsters with purple scales tearing the house apart brick-by-brick and dismembering the guests and her family right in front of her invaded her thoughts. Grandmother Frost told her stories. She’d experienced the nightmares.
