Page 34

Hunt

I can’t believe my woman deceived a group of trained mercenaries. Damn, if I hadn’t fallen already, her cunning bravery would’ve sealed the deal. Admiration set aside, I concentrate on the imminent threat.

Two sets of footprints lead downhill. Too risky to track them, I gamble. Ignoring my blinding headache, limping from my fall, I scramble to the first lookout point.

You got this, Marine. Belly to the ground, I shove the long gun to my shoulder. Exhaling, I steady my aim and—

Bang!

When a spray of red stains the pristine white, I grit my teeth, racing forward. Another killer’s still out there. No way in hell will I let him call in reinforcements.

The deep snowbanks challenge the last mercenary. Taller, stronger, my only mission is to overtake him. My legs scream. My lungs burn.

Then—click.

I throw myself sideways as his rifle misfires. His massive body slams into me, and we hit the ground. I roll. Fists slam. Razor-sharp metal glints. He lunges. Somehow, I catch his wrist as he’s about to bury a knife in my eye socket.

The blade vibrates, its tip a hair from my iris.

Not today, motherfucker. My knee rams into the paid assassin’s groin.

Protected by layers of outer gear, he doesn’t go down, but he flinches.

With adrenaline ripping through me, I clamp my legs around his waist. Flipping so I’m on top, I yank his wrist back—hard.

His bones crack, his weapon falls, but he’s not done. His arm wraps around my neck, crushing my larynx until black dots dance in my vision.

My fingers claw and my fists hammer but—He. Doesn’t. Budge.

“Fuuuuck!” I snap my head back.

Cartilage cracks. When his grip loosens, I duck. Sucking in air, I snatch the weapon by my foot and end him.

Lungs burning, I collapse on my back. A few flakes swirl from the sky indifferent to the carnage. As I allow my heartrate to calm, the whine of snowmobiles shatters the silence.

A too familiar rat-a-tat sets my pulse pounding again as I bolt uphill.

“Kelly!”

While my aching legs protest, an explosion roars through the forest. Knocked off my feet, I topple. Icy shards pelt my face like hail. My ears ring. Smoke burns my throat.

Dear God, please let her be alive.

Teeth clenched, I ignore my battered body and push on. By the time I reach the ridge, the drum in my chest hammers like a boot running his first ten miles.

Oh no. My heart sinks.

Dante’s fishing cabin is totally engulfed, flames clawing at the dimly lit sky. As I approach, heat sears my face, wood snaps, and snow sizzles. The roof must’ve caved in during the blast. If she was in there…

No. She can’t be gone. I would know.

With fear clamping it’s iron chain around my torso, my vision tunnels. The stench of charred flesh catches my attention. In a smoldering, black snowmobile, a body slumps in the seat. My stomach clenches until I calculate the person’s height.

It’s not her, Hunt, move it .

My weapon hugged tight, I follow a bloody trail snaking up the hill. At the first curve, I find a man in white camos motionless on the ground. While blood pools beneath him. I crouch to press a digit to his neck. No pulse.

Kell, what the hell happened here?

A rustling to my right makes me spin.

Gun raised, I shout, “Freeze.”

The kid’s chin is patchy with stubble—barely grown. Jeesh. Still dangerous, his eyes dart around as he slowly spreads his fingers.

“Gonna put down my rifle, okay?”

“Real slow-like.” I nod with my finger on the trigger.

The moment the rifle hits the ground, I kick it out of reach and step back. “Now lie flat on the ground. Hands laced behind your head.”

When he hesitates, my jaw tightens. “Now.”

Smarter than he looks, he complies. A zip tie from my belt secures his wrists at his back. Flipping him over, patience worn thin, I get in his face.

“Where is she?”

“Up there.” He swallows hard, nodding toward the hill.

Butt to my heels, I squeeze the back of his neck. “If you’re lying, you die next. Understand?”

“I’m not. I swear. That’s where she went.” His Adam’s apple bobs.

I follow his gaze to a smaller set of tracks leading uphill.

An ounce of hope surges. Dammit, babe. Where are you?