Tied With a Bow

gloves served onlookers coffee, hot chocolate, and eggnog, courtesy of the muses who wanted their fans and admirers to feel like part of the celebration. Each time a famous Etherlin resident emerged from a car, they were greeted by cheers and applause.
    Kate glanced at Alissa, who looked like royalty in her white velvet cloak. Tiny crystals clung to Alissa’s eyelashes like sparkling dewdrops, emphasizing her otherworldly beauty. Alissa’s stylists had worked their magic on Kate, too. She barely recognized herself in the gown of gold and bronze taffeta that she’d chosen because its colors reminded her of Nathaniel.
    Nathaniel. Again. Her preoccupation with him filled every corner of her mind.
    “You’re lovely in that dress, Kate,” Alissa said.
    “It’s quite a departure from the camos and khakis I wear on field assignment. And there’s no layer of salt and dirt on my skin; my editor will be shocked,” Kate said, smirking. “I hope someone gets a picture.”
    “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” As the door opened and hundreds of flashbulbs popped, Alissa gave the crowd a picture perfect view of her wide blue eyes and slightly parted lips.
    Kate slid from the car and glanced at the onlookers. ES bodyguards flanked Alissa who paused, smiled, and waved. The muse moved very slowly toward the door, allowing people to capture her with their cameras as well as their eyes.
    “I’ll meet you inside,” Kate said with a smile.
    Alissa nodded and smiled apologetically. “They’ve waited in the cold for hours.”
    “Of course, take your time. You know me, the intrepid reporter. I can take care of myself.” Kate edged toward the door, her gaze following a bright spotlight that wasn’t trained on the carpet. It highlighted an enormous seven-and-a-half-foot-tall angel ice sculpture standing near the door. The arches of frosty white wings rose above the crest of broad shoulders. He wore an armored breastplate, and the edges of his sword’s blade glinted like the facets of a jewel. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she approached, and then he moved. Her breath caught, and she slowed. The clustered people had left space for him but didn’t register his presence. Could they see him?
    She stared up when she reached him. He didn’t step over the velvet rope, standing sentry instead, face impassive.
    His breath was wind rustling her bangs, chilling her skin.
    “It does not belong to you,” he said with a slight incline of his head. She looked at the ring circling her thumb.
    “He asked me to keep the ring for him,” she said. People glanced at her curiously, bestowing polite smiles since she was an aspirant.
    “Do not hold what does not belong to you.”
    The urge to tell him to mind his own business spiked through her, but she held her tongue. As she passed, a phantom wing beat the air directly in front of her and she strode through an icy mist that dampened her skin. She gasped for breath and pushed her way inside.
    The ES security officer blinked. “Is it raining?” he asked.
    She shook her head, handing him her invitation before she hurried to the bathroom to dab the moisture off her skin. Fortunately, her makeup wasn’t terribly smeared and the damp evaporated quickly as she stood beneath the vents blowing heat.
    Who—and what—the hell was that?
    She looked at the ring, bending her thumb against her palm, pressing the ring tight to her skin. She wondered if the ice angel had meant something other than the ring when he’d told her to let go of what didn’t belong to her. She scowled. It wasn’t as if she’d tried to sink claws into Nathaniel. On the other hand, she didn’t intend to just pass him his ring and walk away. She wanted to help him, and if she was being honest, she wanted to be near him again. At moments, the way she craved him overwhelmed her.
    Kate took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back, and exited the bathroom, wishing she had a way to reach Nathaniel. What if he didn’t return for days? Nothing drove her crazier than waiting.
    Crossing the prism-patterned sapphire and periwinkle carpet, she’d nearly reached the ballroom doors when she heard birds chirping. She turned, and a pair of lime-colored lovebirds with salmon pink faces flew into the stairwell just before its door whooshed closed. Impossibly, she still heard tweeting.
    Frosted angels at the door and chirping lovebirds in the lobby that no one seems to see except me? Surreptitiously, she