Biting Cold: A Chicagoland Vampires Novel (CHICAGOLAND VAMPIRES SERIES)

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Authors: Chloe Neill
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SWEET GNOME
    I could hardly form words. “Are you—you’re a—”
    “Gnome, yes. Clearly. Obviously .” He sighed with obvious irritation. “Let’s go.”
    “Go where, exactly?” Ethan asked.
    The gnome rolled his eyes and dropped his shoulders dramatically. “You’re here to help take care of the witch. We’re here to help take care of the witch. And the witch is clearly brewing something up, so we need to take our positions and prepare to kick her ass.”
    Okay, the gnome had a potty mouth. Which was an odd juxtaposition.
    “Wait,” Ethan said, holding up a hand. “Paige made you to help her guard the book?”
    His lip curled in anger, the gnome tottered forward and kicked Ethan in the shin.
    Ethan spewed out a curse, but he had it coming.
    “No one made me, bloodsucker. I am what I am. We help Paige only because we don’t want the world to go completely crazy just because some stuck-up Chicago sorceress can’t mind her own business. I don’t especially like sorceresses; they don’t get me. Much like vampires.” Then he muttered something under his breath about vampires and arrogance and our being “basically really big mosquitoes.”
    “Okay,” I said, “let’s all calm down.” I looked down at the gnome. “I’m sorry for the confusion. We weren’t aware you were working with Paige. And we didn’t catch your name?”
    One eye squinted closed, he looked me over, gauging my trustworthiness. “My name is Todd.”
    Not the type of name I would have expected for a gnome, but fine all the same. “Todd, I’m Merit, and this is Ethan.”
    “Nice to meet you. Now that we’re all buddy-buddy, we should probably deal with that.”
    “With what?” Ethan asked.
    Todd pointed across the pasture. The scattering of clouds above the field had turned blue, and they were swirling with a speed that wasn’t natural.
    I’d once joked with Jonah that we’d find the source of the city’s magical drama when we found the giant sucking tornado that marked the spot. I must have been right.
    “Is she controlling the weather now?” I wondered aloud.
    “It’s not a real tornado,” Todd said. “It’s magic.”
    Visible magic, just like Tate could do, which did not make me feel any better.
    Ethan winced, squeezing his hands closed as, I assumed, he battled Mallory back mentally.
    “You okay?” I asked him.
    “I’ll manage,” he said, but as a harsh, magical wind that smelled of smoke and sulfur began to pour across the land, I wasn’t exactly confident he was going to stay that way.
    I looked down at our new ally. “What’s the plan, Todd?”
    Todd adjusted his small, conical hat. “We stop this. There are more of us than there are of her.”
    His confidence was surprising . . . and not entirely believable. I couldn’t imagine the three of us were going to be much of a match against a woman who had the power to move heaven and earth.
    “Three to one aren’t great odds,” I said.
    Todd laughed mirthlessly. “No, but they aren’t the correct odds, either. Guys?”
    The forest floor erupted into a carpet of gnomes. They emerged from open splits in nearby trees and what looked like burrows in the ground, and spilled out around us, probably a hundred in all, all in the same primary-colored uniforms and white caps, long beards extending nearly to their belts.
    The ground looked like the overstock aisle at a garden accessory store.
    Todd put his fingers between his lips and made an ear-shattering whistle. Like troops before a flag, they gathered to attention.
    “The witch is nearly here,” he said, “and we know what she’s going for.”
    The gnomes nodded in agreement, and there were whispers of “the book” across the sea of them.
    “Across the woods and stream is the door to the silo,” Todd said. “She must not reach it or the book. She must not cross the stream. We cannot allow it, or for the evil to fly across the land again.”
    Todd pointed at a gnome who was wearing a particularly

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