by penny watson
Andi cried out.
“Feeling warmer?”
She fisted her hands in his long blond mane and held him tightly to her chest. He was devouring her, flicking his tongue over her sensitive nipples.
“A little bit. Not hot enough yet.” She panted out the words.
His mouth moved south and took a journey all over her body. To arms and belly, past the freckles near her right hip, over her knobby knees and back to the valley of deepest, darkest pleasure.
Tears tracked down her face as the lion feasted.
His mouth returned to her face and kissed each tear away. “Hot enough?”
She looked into his chocolate brown eyes, glittering at her with lust. “Hot enough when you’re inside of me. Only then.”
“I don’t have protection—”
“It’s safe. I promise.”
“I’m safe, too. Healthy, I mean.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “Are you sure?”
She slipped a leg around his hip and nudged him in the right direction. “So very sure. Please hurry.”
He chuckled softly and entered her. A long, smooth glide to finish the journey. All of her senses were inundated by Sven Klaus. By the scent of cedar and sweat, by the brush of his hair, the crush of his body. She trailed her fingers over his skin, over the bulky muscles, rigid with need yet still gentle with her.
He held her gaze like a sorcerer as he moved. Each stroke was steady and strong and powerful. Forging a connection, both physical and emotional, between predator and prey. Andi knew now that Sven Klaus was never the prey, as she had mistakenly imagined at the beginning of this adventure.
She was the prey. Held between the lion’s paws, as he ensured her pleasure and his own. She heard her own cries as the climax exploded throughout her body, hot and thrumming with energy next to Sven Klaus in the cramped motorcar. He continued to move—harder, faster, more possessive with his prize.
Finally the lion stopped and roared his release. A bellow that ricocheted throughout the train, off the tunnel walls, and into the darkness of the night and the unknown future.
Andi purred contently.
Sven spooned Andi on the reclining motorcar seat, within a cocoon of blankets. Her soft body was curled on its side and snuggled tightly against him. She held one of his arms between her breasts and kissed his fingers, one at a time, over and over again.
He hadn’t planned for them to make love. He had only intended to protect her from hypothermia.
And then his skin and her skin had pressed tightly together. Her skin…the color of honey, marked with battle scars, but still silky and luscious and so very responsive. And suddenly she was sassing him and wriggling beneath him like a siren.
He was only human, for Christ’s sake.
And he was completely, utterly smitten. Something about this woman had ensnared him. It was that core of vulnerability and sweetness she was trying to hide from the whole world. She couldn’t hide it from him. Not anymore.
He kissed her gently on the forehead. She needed to recover before the next leg of their journey. Sven wanted to give her time to heal the burns and abrasions from the frost flower attack, to process the truth about Santa Claus, and to prepare for the final rush to the gate. He nuzzled her ear.
“Sleep, Andi.”
“I like kissing you.”
He smiled. “I like you kissing me, too. But you’re exhausted. You need to rest.”
She yawned in his arms and turned over so that her face was burrowed against his chest.
“You’re like a hairy lion, Sven.” She giggled softly.
He ignored that comment. “How do you usually fall asleep at home? Count sheep? Recite poetry?”
“No,” she whispered. “I—I think about the princess bed.”
Sven frowned. “The princess bed? I don’t think I ever heard this one before.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. It’s something Hannah and I used to do when we were little. For a few years, my whole family lived in a studio apartment in New York, and Hannah and I used to sleep on a pile of blankets in the living room corner.”
Sven’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Andi’s hand flattened against his chest, right over his heart. He covered it with his own and held her in place.
“Our ‘mattress’ was this scratchy shag carpet, and we never had enough blankets to stay warm. We usually slept with our coats and hats on during the winter.”
He rubbed his beard along the side of her face, his expression grim.
“We were obsessed with the Disney princess stories. We knew all of them. Hannah was especially enamored with those books. And so we’d huddle together in the corner and dream about our imaginary bed, fit for a princess. That we would have when we got older and richer and we got lucky.” She yawned again.
“What did it look like? This princess bed? Tell me.”
“It was huge. Big enough for our whole family. With four posts, intricately carved, and a set of stairs to climb to the top. It had layers and layers of soft, silky mattresses and plump pillows in every color of the rainbow. Gauzy curtains for privacy draped over the posts. And little white Christmas lights strung on the top, so that it looked like magic.”
Sven nodded against her hair. “It sounds like the perfect little girl bed. A fantasy come-true.”
“That dream kept us going. We planned out that bed and how a handsome prince would show up and rescue us someday.” Sven could feel her eyelids flutter shut against his skin. “We were silly little girls. Of course, there was never any prince. Just me. Making sure the electric bill got paid and Dad’s unemployment benefits were filed on time. Stuff like that.” Her words slurred at the end. And then he felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest against him, and he knew that she had finally fallen asleep.
He was bewitched by Andi De Luca. She had the soul of a poet, dreams of child, all wrapped up in a prickly shell. But she hadn’t been able to hide her true self when they made love. Tears of joy had streamed down her face as they joined intimately. She’d given him her trust, in more ways than one. And now he had to ask her to give up the biggest story of her career.
He hoped that request wouldn’t shatter the bonds growing between them.
“Andi, wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered open as Sven slid a pair of long underwear over her legs.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re almost at the end of the tunnel. We gotta get you dressed.”
She grumbled and sat up. Sven slipped a thermal top over her arms.
She reached out and stroked a finger along his lush beard. “Either I had a really great dream or we just…um…you know…”
Andi could feel the blush creep up her neck as Sven kissed her.
“You can’t even say it?” he asked.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. I—you—thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t intend for that to happen, but it was incredible. No regrets?” He was staring at her with such intensity, Andi could barely breathe.
“None.”
She was afraid to say another word. Afraid to reveal her biggest fear.
She had fallen for Sven Klaus, the object of her latest story. It was a sticky conundrum, and she wondered how she would be able to extricate herself from this problem. The goofy hippie was actually deeply loyal, courageous, and resolute. Not to mention an incredibly sensual lover. No matter what happened in the next segment of their journey, Andi couldn’t regret making love with Sven Klaus.
It would fuel her dreams indefinitely.
“We have to hurry, honey.”
“Did we sleep for about twenty-two seconds? Ugh.”
“I promise you, when we get to Glasdorf, you can sleep as long as you’d like.”
“When we get to Santa Land?” She couldn’t prevent the sarcasm in her voice.
“What? Don’t believe me?” Sven cocked an eyebrow at her tone.
“I don’t know what to
believe anymore. I guess I’ll really believe it when I see it.”
“I’m looking forward to the expression on your face when you see the elves for the first time.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled on a thick fleece jacket.
“Have you ever used snowshoes?”
“Yes, sometimes Hannah and I and the twins sneak away to upstate New York for some winter fun. The boys love to snowshoe. Why are you asking me that?” She got a nervous feeling in her stomach as Sven began to assemble supplies in the front car.
“When we get to the end of the tunnel, we have to crawl to the surface, and then it’s about one hundred meters to the gate.”
Andi tugged a bootlace tight and glanced at him in surprise. “One hundred meters? That’s all? Why are you making this seem like such a big deal? We can easily make it a hundred meters. Come on, Klaus. Buck up.”
He kneeled before her and laced her other boot. “First of all, I don’t know if we beat the worst of the storm. If it’s raging full force, it could be a complete whiteout. Making it one hundred meters won’t be so easy. We have snowshoes and poles and goggles and headlamps. That will help. Just stick close to me.”
She nodded. “Okay. Fair enough. You said first of all. What’s second of all?”
The look Sven shot her made her stomach drop like turbulence on a plane.
“Uh-oh. I’m not gonna like this, am I?”
“No. It’s the second safeguard. It’s ironic, really—”
“What’s that noise?” Andi heard something ahead of them in the tunnel. A rumbling sound, increasing in volume as they sped along the track.
“I don’t know.” Sven squinted as he stared through the windshield. The train slowed down, and small mounds of snow began to appear along the tunnel walls.
Wind battered the car, tossing it back and forth on the track. “Sven! What is going on?” The train lurched to an abrupt stop. Ahead of them was a huge gaping hole in the tunnel ceiling. Swirling snow blinded them as it whipped into the tunnel.
Sven had to yell to be heard over the clamor. “Damn! It looks like the end of the tunnel collapsed under the weight of the snow.” He quickly passed her supplies. She put the goggles around her neck and adjusted the headlamp.
“Sven, it’s so cold in here.” Her teeth started to chatter.
“I know. We have to get out of here. The temperature is dropping, and we’re out of supplies. This is the end of the line, honey.” He kissed her hard and fast. “We can do this.”
He pulled out a box of flares and put several of them onto a utility belt at his waist. And then Sven opened a thin closet in the back of the car and removed something that shocked Andi to her toes.
“What in God’s name is that…that…thing?”
“Eis Speer.”
Sven reached into the closet and grabbed a weapon like nothing Andi had ever seen before. A four-foot-long spear, gleaming with an unearthly glow. Silvery strands of string criss-crossed the shaft and wove their way up to the tip. It had an odd reflective surface, swirling with light in the dark motorcar. The icy sheen on the apex frightened her. It looked sharp enough to sheer off a body part. She stepped back.
“What do you need that for? What could we possibly run into in the next one hundred meters of the Arctic Circle? An Arctic hare? A snowy owl? A polar bear? Is that it?”
He took out a small hatchet with the same reflective surface and handed it to her. “Just in case. Put this in your pocket.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Listen to me. There is a ladder at the end of the tunnel. We have to climb to the top, slide on the snowshoes, and then hustle to the gate. I have a compass with me—we’re heading due north. I haven’t received a confirmation text from Ulrich, which means the final safeguard is still in place. Here’s the plan. I toss a few flares to the left of us. Hopefully it will attract their attention. And then we sprint to the right. All I have to do is touch the gate. Just one touch, and it will recognize a Klaus. The doors will open for us.”
She turned the hatchet over in her gloved hand. It was primitive and deadly.
She looked Sven right in the eye and whispered, “Who. Is. Their? Their attention?”
“The final safeguard. An urban legend. Your top story. Schneemonster.”
“Schneemonster?”
And then Andi heard a sound that froze the blood in her veins. Worse than the sound of rattling planes, worse than the screech of Category Four winds. Even worse than the screams of frost flowers as they withered and died.
A roar so deafening and formidable, it thundered above them like a force of nature.
Sven grabbed her hand.
“Yeti.”
They were blind. Enclosed in a complete whiteout.
Andi clutched Sven’s gloved hand in front of her and squeezed it hard enough to bruise. They had emerged from the tunnel into a howling, screeching snowstorm. The snow stung as it battered her face around the goggles. She trudged forward in her snowshoes, placing one foot in front of the other, plowing into a wall of wind and ice.
Step after step, waiting to see The Gate.
Praying not to hear that roar again.
Sven stopped suddenly. He fumbled with his belt, removed a power flare and activated the on-button. He lobbed the flashing item high into the air to his left. He grabbed her hand and struggled to the right, fighting the wind and the thick snow drifts. The ground began to vibrate, and Andi was vaguely aware of a pounding sound. A slow, steady reverberation that made her teeth chatter.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
It felt like an earthquake, like the ice was cracking beneath them.
Sven tossed two more flares to his left. She saw something ahead of her. It sparkled. Behind the wall of snow was…a wall of ice! It looked like icy stalagmites rising from the earth. Glistening, beckoning.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
They were so close. Waves of color danced along the icy rails of the gate. Sparkling fireflies flashed on and off around the bars. Sven was more or less dragging her through the snow. She clung to him and tamped down the sobs threatening to erupt from her throat.
Pound. Pound…
ROAR!
Goosebumps broke out on her skin. Sweat trickled down her back. The unearthly Yeti cry did not sound far away. It sounded so close she could practically smell the scent of fur and fetid breath.
Sven dropped her hand. She panicked. That was the only thing tethering her to sanity. She fell to her knees, and he stepped in front of her. With his legs braced apart, his grip tight on the spear, the wind whipping his long blond hair over his shoulders, Sven Klaus waited. She stared up at him, shocked by his transformation. No longer a mild-mannered toymaker. He looked like a warrior, prepared to protect her at all costs.
“Stay down!” he screamed.
The next roar rattled her teeth. This time she was sure she felt warm air brush over her face. Warm, foul, angry breath. Somewhere deep inside the recesses of her brain, a thought emerged.
The picture. Get the picture.
She didn’t know if her spy cam would work, but it was water-proof. Was it Yeti-proof? A burst of hysterical laughter bubbled up inside of her.
So this is it? This is how I’m going to die? Cold, scared, and just inches away from the damned gate?
A breach in the swirling snow opened up, and Andi’s heart stopped beating.
He stood in front of them, panting, with his head cocked to one side. A beast at least fifteen feet tall. Thick mangy fur covered his towering form, dagger-like claws tipped his hands, and when he opened his mouth, Andi swore she saw saliva drip slowly down his fangs onto his black lips. Chunks of ice covered his face, but not enough to shield his eyes.
They were wide open. Curious. Hungry.
And they were looking right at her.
She didn’t realize one massive arm was hurtling her away until she felt the breeze and smelled the putrid fur. But Sven did. He slashed Eis Speer toward the Yeti and an arc of blood
sailed through the air. It turned to blood ice in an instant.
“Holy mother of God.”
The beast cradled its injured arm against his chest and let loose a roar that must have been heard across the entire state of Alaska, storm be damned. He charged. As Andi watched Sven counter-attack, the only word that came to mind was…graceful. He fought with courage and grace. The spear sliced through the air so fast she could barely make out the length of it. Only the glimmering tip as it gouged their adversary. Sven pushed back the beast, and bright spots of color speckled his gray-white fur.
She snapped out of her paralysis and fumbled with the camera. If she was going to die, at least she’d leave behind a legacy. The first authentic Yeti photo. Her frozen fingers struggled to work the camera, even as drops of blood rained down upon her. She held down the shutter release and prayed it worked. Then she shoved the tiny spy-cam back into her pocket, not sure if her mission had been successful.
The beast continued its assault against Sven. The spear flashed and lunged, but it seemed inadequate against the raging Yeti. Andi staggered to her feet and pulled the hatchet from her pocket. Sven could not do this on his own.
“Stay down!” He growled at her as the beast backed away.
“Sven, let me help you.” She raised the weapon over her head. It glowed eerily.
Suddenly a horrific pain stabbed her side. She looked down in shock to see a long curved nail puncturing her coat, her sweater, her skin. Another Yeti was behind her. He tugged her body away from Sven, and she barely avoided blacking out from the pain. The hatchet fell from her hand.
“Sven,” she whispered, knowing it was already too late. Knowing he would never hear her voice in this storm.
Knowing he would never know how she felt about him.
“Andi!” Sven raced over the snow and propelled himself into the air. He latched onto the retreating Yeti and clung to his back. She dangled upside down under the beast’s arm, her vision cloudy, her consciousness slipping away. She heard the sound of the spear as it slid into the Yeti’s body. The beast bellowed in anger and whipped around, trying to dislodge Sven. Snarls, the snapping of teeth, and Sven’s shouts echoed around her. All seemed far away and dream-like.
