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As she approached the first buildings, she realized they were cabins. Big, solid log cabins with curtains in the windows. Smoke drifted lazily from some of the chimneys, and there were lights glowing behind some of those curtains.

Oh, to be warm again.

By her guess, it was well after midnight. She didn’t want to scare anyone by hammering on their door in the early hours of the morning, especially when she didn’t know who lived here or how they’d receive her—her father welcomed anyone who knocked after eight p.m. with a loaded shotgun in their face, and he knew everyone in the closed community like family.

Getting shot would be the frosting on her cupcake of misfortune.

Her oversized boots crunched on a gravel path, the sound muffled by snow. Small lights lined either side of it, beckoning her to follow. Trudging forward, her teeth beginning to chatter with the cold and maybe a touch of shock, she wound her way through the maze of cabins until she reached more buildings. More cabins?

No, she deduced, not cabins. They were similar on the exterior, built to look like cabins, but they didn’t have curtains or chimneys. In fact, several buildings seemed to have blacked out windows, which sent a shiver of foreboding down her aching spine.

The biggest building of them all was just across the way, a hulking shadow looming through the snow. To her relief, there were more curtains, and several chimneys on the roof; when she got nearer, she eyed the porch and the furniture slowly disappearing beneath layers of fluffy white.

Glancing around, Tamsyn bit her lip. There was no harm in trying the door, was there? If it was locked, she could curl up in the corner and wait for morning—at least the porch roof would keep the worst of the elements off her for a few hours.

Gripping the stair rail with her good hand, she crept up the three short steps onto the porch, shuffling toward the door. Maybe her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the handle, but she was the only one who knew it.

The door swung open easily, without so much as a squeak of hinges.

A wash of warmth flooded out, hitting her like a fist to the gut. It flowed over her, luring her in until she found herself standing in a fancy hallway, shivering and swaying.

There was a desk to her left, the chair behind it empty.

Voices, many voices, hummed from a pair of doors to the right.

She heard a man laugh, low and deep, followed by several more, and suddenly she was aware of what kind of situation she’d dropped herself in. Lost, lonely female walking into a strange compound, into a house full of stranger men…

Christ in heaven, how stupid could she be?

Looking down at herself, she realized there was no way to pass herself off as anything but lost and injured. Her boots were obviously not hers, her bare toes visible through a split in the leather and new holes in her wet socks. Her pants were ripped in several places, her jacket was in shreds, and apparently she was bleeding from a few nasty cuts she hadn’t felt.

They would eat her alive.

“…get that for you.” Heavy footsteps came toward the doors, and it dawned on her that the glass was, well,glass. As in see-through. As in, they could seeher.

Panic picked her up and swept her away. She stumbled forward, pitching herself down the hallway. A staircase was on her left, but there were several doors to her right. She dove for one, tugging uselessly on the handle, before hurrying to the next.

More laughter erupted, louder this time as the doors opened.

Tamsyn nearly cried as the second handle she tried pushed down. She wrenched the door open and dove into a darkened storage cupboard. It was bigger than expected; light from the hallway illuminated stacks of boxes and shelves lined with bottles of every cleaner and disinfectant known to man. A row of mops and brushes were tucked away in the corner.

Hearing the boots come her way, she shoved herself behind the shelving unit, crouching down in the narrow space, cursing when she noticed she’d left the door wide open.

A massive shadow filled the open doorway a heartbeat later. “Wish people would learn to shut the damn door,” a deep voice muttered in displeasure. “Swear to God, half the goddamn staff were born in a barn.”

Just close the door and go on your merry way. Tamsyn sucked in a breath and held it, praying he would hear her silent command.

As always, her prayers went unanswered.

He stepped in, muttering to himself as he bent and searched the shelves for whatever he was looking for, using the light from the hallway to guide him. A big hand reached for something on the shelf level with her head, long fingers curling around a bottle.

He grunted in approval, turning around and leaving, slamming the door shut for good measure, leaving her in the dark.

Tamsyn exhaled slowly, swallowing down bile as her nerves threatened to break free on a laugh. She shoved her fist against her mouth, breathing through her nose, to keep it from escaping.

That was far too close for comfort.

Now she just had to wait until they all left or went to bed so she could sneakoutagain. Although now she’d felt warmth, she really didn’t relish the idea of wandering around in the cold and snow. Plus, she was going to have to find help for her wrist—it was starting to swell now her body was warming up, growing hot and painful.