Dante stopped humming. “Ready to round up the snowmachines? We need to go stealth.”
Since when had Dante ever had a stealth mode? Was that even possible with our pictures circling the area like snowflakes?
Before heading to the cabin, we hit up the nearest town for supplies. Giselle did the shopping while Dante, Tommy, and I stayed out of sight in the truck. Luckily she was quick.
On the way out of town, the wind kicked up, blowing snow sideways at the truck. Dante turned on the windshield wipers, and they flicked back and forth for the next fifteen minutes before the flurries let up.
“Yeah, we’re going to need those snowmachines,” I said.
“That’s not all we need,” Dante said. “I hope Mr. Manning has a couple sleds to attach on back or else good luck getting supplies to the lodge.”
Mr. Manning, it turned out, had one sled attachment. The important things were the snowmachines—two in total—and a trailer to haul them away with. Poor Mr. Manning; his son had picked the wrong friend.
One of the benefits of freshly fallen snow was the lack of tire tracks, which indicated no one currently occupied the cabin.
Dante got to work immediately. He ran around to the back of the cabin and returned with a spare key that opened the shed. We didn’t even have to break in, though it felt like the same thing.
While Giselle and I stepped in as needed, Tommy trotted around the property sniffing and marking.
As soon as the trailer was attached and snowmachines were loaded securely, Dante called for everyone to get in the truck and haul out. From the tight lock of his jaw, it was clear to see he took no pleasure lifting the machines from his friend’s family. He didn’t speak, sing, or hum on the drive back to home base.
As expected, we wouldn’t have made it the last bit of the way to the lodge driving the truck. We were able to follow a set of tire tracks leading off the highway into the mountains, but eventually the tracks passed the road into the lodge. None led in, which was a good thing.
Forcing the gas, Dante plowed the truck through the snow on the edge of the road, leaving enough room for another vehicle to pass. Once he turned the engine off, we all dismounted and set to work unloading the snowmachines.
Well, more like we watched Dante start them up and drive each one down a metal ramp. The engine on the first puttered, sounding similar to a lawn mower. Once running, Dante moved to the machine with the sled and got the engine running. I could feel the hum inside my chest. Born and raised in Alaska, yet I’d never ridden a snowmachine.
I bet Fane had. Fane had done it all. He’d ridden a motorcycle across the desert in the Dakar Rally. Probably jumped out of planes and gone deep-sea diving too. Nothing would surprise me. And I thought Dante was a thrill seeker. Fane lived large. He had the funds to do so. There were people who would have chosen to spend it on fancy cars, homes, and art, but not Fane. He spent his resources and time on travel and experiences. My kind of guy… except he wasn’t mine at all.
“Could you help me?” Giselle asked impatiently.
While I was daydreaming, she’d begun moving supplies from the back of the truck to the sled attached to the machine.
I leaned over the edge of the truck bed. In addition to a large bag of dog food and grocery sacks filled with canned goods, there were steel traps that had scraped against the bottom. Their sharp-teethed clamps were closed, chains curling behind them like scorpion tales.
“Please tell me those traps aren’t for catching dinner,” I said.
Giselle came over to my side and stood on tippy toes to scoop up the traps. “These are to bury beneath the snow around the lodge in case anyone comes after us.”
I whipped around as Giselle carried the traps to the sled.
“Are we expecting company or something?” I asked her back.
The only answer I received was the clank and rattle of chains as Giselle dumped the traps in the sled. I reached for the bag of dog food when a hand suddenly stopped me.
“Leave it,” Dante said.
I hadn’t noticed him approach.
I faced Dante, a question on my lips, but before I could ask, he said, “Tommy needs to stay with a friend until we sort this mess out.”
Tommy’s ear perked up when he heard his name. He trotted over and nudged Dante’s hand. Dante scratched behind Tommy’s ears.
“Things could go south at any moment,” Dante said, hand resting on Tommy’s head. “I don’t want my buddy getting caught in any crossfire or stepping into one of Giselle’s vamp traps.”
My heart gave a sick twist at the thought.
“I hate to ask the obvious, but is that really an option? The agency must have eyes on your family and friends.”
Giselle loomed behind Dante, listening.
Dante breathed in deep before answering. “That’s why Tommy needs to stay with someone the agency would never expect. Buck.”
My jaw dropped. “Buck? The vampire you were sent to check out after Crist’s murder?”
“Yeah. Him and his girlfriend, Nicole,” Dante confirmed.
“You’re kidding.”
“Like I said before, he’s cool. And she’s human. What choice do I have?”
I chewed on my lip.
“It is a wise decision,” Giselle spoke up. “I don’t want anything to happen to the dog.”
Dante looked at me. “You and I should take him there now.” He waited until I nodded before turning to Giselle. “Do you know how to drive a snowmachine?”
“I’ll manage,” Giselle said. “I will take the one with the supplies and begin setting up.”
My heart gave a sick lurch. “Don’t go setting up traps before we get back,” I said.
Rather than respond to my comment, Giselle said, “Radio me before you ride in.”
“Will do,” Dante said. “In the meantime, I’ll hide the second machine in that patch of woods up there once it’s had a chance to warm up.” He looked down the snow-covered road.
While the machines hummed in place, Dante gave Giselle driving tips. As I listened in, I sidled up to Tommy and stroked his fur. The pit inside my stomach widened with each passing minute at the thought of dropping him off with strangers, but Dante was right. The lodge wasn’t a safe place for him. Nowhere we went was safe as long as the agency and vampires were hunting us.
Tommy’s presence had been a huge comfort. Petting his fur was one of the few things that relaxed me.
My body felt stiff from sitting in the truck most of the day and now standing in place in the cold.
After a good ten minutes, Dante sat on the snowmachine. “Be right back,” he said. Tommy swung his tail from side to side, ears perked up. Dante held a hand up. “Tommy, stay.” Tommy lowered his tail in acknowledgement. Once Dante started off, Tommy followed his every movement with his eyes.
He wagged his tail slightly then stopped when Dante disappeared into a thatch of spruce trees.
“He’s coming right back, boy,” I said in a soft voice.
You’re the one going away.
My throat tightened on that thought.
Tommy’s head lifted the moment Dante appeared, walking toward us. Tommy’s golden tail swung from side to side. Once Dante was halfway back, Tommy took off running toward him.
Dante joined Giselle and me beside the truck.
“My machine is tucked away. You good to go, G?”
“I’m ready,” Giselle confirmed. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small stack of twenties. She handed the bills to Dante.
“What’s this for?” he asked, folding the bills and stuffing them in his back jeans pocket.
“Gas money,” Giselle answered. Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “No more motels though. When will you return?”
“Tomorrow midday,” Dante answered. “We’ll find a place to sleep once Tommy’s taken care of. Maybe Buck and Nicole will let us crash with them for the night.”
“Make sure no one else sees you,” Giselle warned before climbin
g onto the rumbling snowmachine.
We watched her ride forward across the snow, picking up speed as she zoomed down the powdery road.
“I guess she got the hang of it,” I remarked.
Dante turned to the truck.
“And now onto Fairbanks,” he said.
That meant sitting my sore ass in the truck yet again, but at least it was just me and the boys for a while. After this errand, I might have to settle in with Dante and Giselle for the long haul.
Entering Fairbanks gave me the weirdest sense of déjà vu. The last time I was here, I had been with Dante. First mission in the field. Now we were on the run, laying low, hiding from the agency like a couple of renegade vampires.
One of the biggest differences this round was the temperature. The digital sign outside a bank said twenty-one degrees Fahrenheit. Last time it had been negative fifty-something. Toasty. The beginning of November was obviously a lot balmier than January.
“How do we contact Buck?” I asked as Dante pulled to a stop at the first traffic light.
“Last time I was here, he had evenings off,” Dante replied. “Let’s hope that’s still the case.”
“I don’t know. Do we really have to leave Tommy behind?” I asked, my voice catching. “He might think we’re abandoning him.”
“I don’t like it either,” Dante said. “But I can’t risk it. Tommy’s used to this sort of thing. He knows he can’t accompany me on every mission. This isn’t the first time he’s had to hang tight with friends.”
“But he doesn’t know them.”
“How about this? If Tommy doesn’t like Buck and Nicole, he comes back with us.”
I thought a moment before answering. “Okay. I guess.”
“Tommy will let us know if we can trust Buck to look after him. You’ll see.”
Dante turned into the parking lot of a pizza joint.
“What now?” I asked, sinking into my seat as Dante pulled into a parking spot.
“Last time I was up here, Buck’s girlfriend brought over pizza. It’s my turn.”
“Tell me you’re not seriously considering waltzing out in public to place an order?”
Dante put on his baseball cap and grabbed a pair of sunglasses clipped to the visor. “Vamps have no reason to be at food establishments,” he said, putting on the shades.
I snorted. “Unless the vamp’s name happens to be Dante. If we get busted over pizza, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Trust me, Sky. There aren’t any vamps here and they’ve got teens working the counter. Most of the time they don’t even make eye contact. Ian Somerhalder could walk in, order a pie, pay, then leave, and I bet they wouldn’t look up from the iPhones they have hidden behind the counter long enough to notice. I’m asking Buck and Nicole to take care of Tommy. I don’t want to go empty handed. Besides, it might be the last hot meal we have for a while. Be right back.” Dante left the truck running while he ducked inside the restaurant.
I had to wonder if he left it running for warmth or a quick getaway if we needed one.
But Dante was right about vampires and restaurants. They had no reason to eat out—or eat in general. In fact, the rotten ones were more likely to eat in. I gave a slight shudder, remembering the case of the pizza delivery boy who’d been called over to a vamp house, fed on, and killed.
Not what I wanted to think about. Instead, I started wondering if Buck had any blood in his fridge. If he offered, it would be rude not to accept. Saliva gathered in my mouth, thinking I might get more than a lick tonight. Maybe my own mugful.
I scooted to the edge of the truck bench and looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror. The teeth marks on my neck stood out like a red neon sign. I thought my days of wearing scarves were over, except to ward off the cold. I didn’t have one with me so I finger combed my hair over my shoulders, covering the wound. Long hair really came in handy.
Twenty minutes after stepping inside, Dante returned with three pizza boxes. He walked to the passenger’s side, and I opened the door and took the boxes from his hands. Once the pizzas were inside, Dante shut the door and hurried around to the other side.
“I got a meat lover’s, veggie supreme, and breadsticks,” he said as he got inside. “I hope you’re hungry.”
I was hungry all right, but not for pizza… or solid food in general. I’d just have to nibble on a slice until a more suitable option presented itself.
Dante didn’t talk much during the last leg of the trip. We headed out of town, past all-too familiar gravel roads leading into the snowy woods.
Dante turned the truck down one such road.
Fairbanks was the second largest city in Alaska, but I swore Anchorage was the only one that could really call itself a city. Other than around town, Fairbanks didn’t seem to have heard of pavement.
I pulled my hair over my shoulders, making sure to cover the bite mark on my neck. I didn’t want Buck and Nicole to think I was Dante’s human girlfriend or suck buddy.
Dante slowed the truck, turning his head at every driveway we passed. And by “driveway,” we were talking narrow gravel roads leading even farther into the woods.
“Let’s see if I can remember which road is theirs,” Dante said.
“Good luck. They all look the same.”
What was it with vampires living in the woods? What happened to originality? In movies like Underworld, the vamps lounged around in corsets and fancy attire inside palace-like mansions. Alaska seemed to be lacking in high-class vampires. Too bad I’d had to kill Marcus.
Dante stopped the truck and stared down a dirt road almost identical to the one before it.
“Here. This is it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. We’ll find out.”
Dante turned onto the road and followed the tracks in the snow. It would have normally felt rough, but compared to the trail we’d blazed earlier, this particular stretch of gravel was a cakewalk.
Three guesses as to what we’d find at the end.
Yep, a small log cabin.
Smoke rose from a stovepipe and light seeped out along the edges of the curtains.
“This is it,” Dante said. “And it looks like they’re both home.” He parked behind two vehicles.
Tommy lifted his head, panting softly. Dirt roads usually meant it was time to get out and settle in for the night. The pit in my stomach tightened.
Dante glanced over his seat. “Sorry, buddy. You’re going to have to sit this one out a little longer than last time. Wait here a minute.”
I stepped down from the passenger’s side, reaching for the pizzas once standing on solid ground. As soon as Dante came around and slammed the door behind me, the front door of the cabin opened and a young man, roughly Dante’s age, stepped out with a shotgun aimed at us.
13
Misdirection
Instinctively, I began raising the boxes of pizzas like a shield. As if marinara, mozzarella, and bread would do any good stopping bullets.
Dante lifted a hand in the air. “Hey, Buck. It’s me, Dante.”
“Dante?” Buck squinted and lowered his rifle. “Dude, you gave me a start.”
Dante walked toward him. “You’re the one holding the shotgun, dude.”
“Don’t mind me. Can’t be too careful.”
“I hear you,” Dante said.
Buck squinted toward me. “Who have you got there with you?”
“Buck, meet Aurora. Aurora, Buck. Mind if we invite ourselves in for dinner? We were in the area and brought pizza.”
“Pizza? Come on in.”
“Mind if my dog comes in?” Dante asked.
“No problem. We love dogs. I’ll let Nicole know we have company.” Buck returned to the cabin.
Guess Dante really did trust this vamp. He’d given him our real names.
Dante pivoted back to the car and let Tommy out. Once the retriever jumped down, he trotted over to a nearby tree and lifted his leg.
I waited for Dant
e to catch up to me before continuing to the cabin.
“Did you hear that?” Dante asked. “They love dogs.”
“Yeah, great. He also pointed a shotgun at us.”
Dante shrugged one shoulder. “Well, we did show up out of the blue.”
Sure, excellent reason to point a loaded gun at visitors.
“Come on, Tommy,” Dante called, leading the way up to the log cabin.
He wiped his feet on a mat outside the cabin, and I did the same. He tapped lightly on the door before opening it. Once I’d entered the cabin, I stepped aside. Tommy came in behind me, followed by Dante.
A brunette sauntered toward the door. Despite the jeans and flannel shirt she had on, she was gorgeous: tall, slender, yet curvy, with thick, long hair. Her eyes lit up when Dante walked in.
“Hi, Dante! I almost didn’t believe Buck when he said you were out front. What a wonderful surprise.”
“It’s good to see you too, Nicole.”
Her smile dropped when she saw me. “What happened to Noel? Are you not together anymore?”
I looked at Dante and raised an eyebrow. Another tidbit I’d forgotten. Dante and Noel had pretended they were dating when they’d come up to Fairbanks on a stakeout.
“Noel and I are still friends,” Dante answered. “This is Aurora.”
“Hi. Also a friend,” I said before Nicole could get any ideas in her head about Dante and me being an item.
“Hi,” she said with an easy smile. “And who’s this?” she asked, crouching in front of Tommy.
Dante grinned. “This is Tommy Moe. Tommy, say hi to Nicole.”
Tommy barked.
“He talks! Good boy,” she said, stroking Tommy’s head. “Tommy Moe,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Like the Olympic gold medalist who used to ski at Alyeska?”
Dante’s chest lifted. “The very one!” He looked over at me with a quick smile.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. The woman knew who Tommy was named after and made flannel look sexy.
Nicole stood up and held her arms out. “Here, let me give you a hand, Aurora. You just made my entire weekend. I swear if I eat one more salmon fillet, I’m going to grow gills.” She shot me a cheeky grin as she grabbed all three pizza boxes.
Whiteout (Aurora Sky Page 13
