A Touch of Frost

Chapter 1



Frost dropped down from the upper level of the Spaceport walkway, landing on silent feet. His eyes followed the small, but deadly figure of the fugitive, he had been seeking for the last week. The slight lift at the corner of his mouth was the only indication of his satisfaction. His target was very predictable, returning to his old hunting grounds at the first opportunity.

He straightened up from his half kneeling position, flickering a glance at the two men standing in the shadows of the seedy Port bar doorway. He ignored the men’s nervous glances as they moved deeper into the dark recesses of the bar. He did not have a warrant for anyone else on this Spaceport, so he didn’t bother wasting his time and energy on checking their status.

He had barely taken a step forward to follow when the communicator at his waist vibrated. He cast an annoyed glance at it before pressing the button to silence it. Almost immediately, it vibrated again. With a silent curse, he shut it off. Whatever headquarters wanted, it would have to wait. He was too close to his mark to stop now. Besides, it was easier to take care of the needed documentation after he had captured his target, since he could take care of both things at the same time.

He continued down the dark, narrow alleyway turning right at the corner. Three doors to the end, the fugitive he was after paused to look over his shoulder. Frost stepped back into the entrance of a small shop dealing in herbs for medicinal purposes. The door behind him was sealed for the night, but there was enough space for him to remain hidden. The cold metal bars the shop owner used for security pressed against his back as he waited.

He lowered his eyelids to hide the glow of his light blue eyes. As a member of the Glacian species, his body was adapted to the cold, dark environments often found in space. He could regulate his body temperature to deal with extreme temperatures that would freeze most other species and could see very well in the dim light. These features were just two of the assets that made his race excel as Star Rangers, especially since most of those wanted by the law tended to gravitate to the less than desirable sections of the Spaceports.

Frost listened from his position as the fugitive named Gasper pounded on the door to the dark shop. From the low curses Gasper uttered, it didn’t appear whoever owned the shop was in a hurry to answer him. Frost tilted his head as the door creaked opened and the sound of metal on metal echoed as the security gate was unlocked.

“What do you want, Gasper?” The low growl of a woman’s voice whispered. “I thought you were serving time on Jallus III.”

“I was,” Gasper stated bluntly. “Let me in, Newmar. I have business with your husband.”

“Not any longer. Hassur is dead,” Newmar replied.

“Then I have business with you,” Gasper snapped, glancing over his shoulder again. “I need weapons.”

“I don’t sell weapons,” Newmar snapped. “That is what killed Hassur. I told him it would end badly if he didn’t stop, but he wouldn’t listen. I only deal in fabrics now.”

“Surely you have something? I need a new identity as well. You know how to do that. At least, you can give me that,” Gasper rasped in disbelief.

“Go away, Gasper,” Newmar said. “I don’t do that anymore either. I have a child to think of, especially now that Hassur is gone.”

“I need a weapon and a new identity and you are going to get them for me,” Gasper snarled.

Frost’s mouth tightened when he heard the female cry out and the sound of screeching metal as the security door was yanked open. The sound of flesh meeting flesh and a young child’s cry pulled Frost from his hiding spot.

He moved swiftly down the alleyway. Gasper had already disappeared inside the small storefront. Frost could see the female lying on the floor, one hand against her mouth and the other gripping the hand of a small girl.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Newmar whimpered. “Please, she is all I have left.”

“If you want to keep her, then find me the weapons I need and get me a new security pass,” Gasper threatened in a low, dangerous voice. “I know Hassur must have had some stashed away.”

“Don’t bother,” Frost commented calmly as he stepped into the room. “He won’t need it.”

Frost ignored the harsh curse that escaped Gasper. He was prepared for the other male’s reaction. He had studied the lizard species well. He raised his arm to deflect the long, forked tongue that shot out at him. The rough skin wrapped around his wrist instead of taking out his eyes.

Before Gasper could swing his long, jagged tail at him, Frost dropped his fingers to the tongue and focused. Shards of frost shot out from where he touched running up the long, rough tongue. He deepened the cold until the reddish skin turned to a faint whitish-pink color. Gasper’s eyes widened in horror and pain before his knees buckled under him as Frost wrapped his hand around the long tongue and twisted it. The sickening sound of ice breaking pulled a terrified, muffled scream from Gasper.