Page 20 of Polestar (The Global Paranormal Security Agency #3)

SEVENTEEN

T he sun was still below the horizon by the time the dark outlines of the fishing village came into sight in the dim light.

Her fatigued muscles threatened to drag her down into the snow.

How long had she been running?

The road declined sharply toward the village, forcing her to move with more care.

Would the villagers stop her? Had word somehow been sent that she’d escape the stronghold?

Magnus wasn’t with her. Surely, they’d be suspicious, considering they were there to record their impending union. Banished, Magnus was forbidden to stay.

A distant sound drew her attention. Standing motionless, straining to determine what it was.

It was the whine of engines. Boats?

She hurried down through the village path.

This time, there was no one to witness her arrival. It was dark and silent. Eerily silent. Like the village was abandoned.

She rounded the downward bend, eyes searching the small harbor for their plane.

The dock was empty.

No! No, no, no!

She slipped the rest of the way down the path, desperately scanning the ocean in case maybe the tether had come untied and it drifted nearby.

The whine of engines grew louder, but there were no boats visible on the horizon.

The sound came from behind her.

Moments later, snowmobiles came into view.

Is there any other way off this island?

Even if there was somewhere to swim to, she’d freeze in the Barents Sea at this time of year— any time of year, if she were honest.

She considered drawing her gun. Instead, she ran back up the path, frantically tugging the doors to some houses.

All locked.

The snowmobiles were deafeningly close.

The temple. She darted toward the divine sanctuary. Locked.

She stared at it in disbelief.

Who locks temple doors?

Anyone trying to keep riffraff out.

Spinning around, she scanned the darkness, searching for somewhere to hide, then crouched, moving through the shadows.

Grunting against the strain in her exhausted muscles, she broke for the forest. Maybe there was some other way off the island.

There has to be a boat somewhere, right?

At the edge of the village, she gauged the distance between the cover of the buildings and the forest’s edge above it. The snow cover was pristine, with little hint of how deep it was or how uneven the ground was beneath it.

She’d leave a glaring trail.

Her gut told her they weren’t a surprise rescue crew sent by Kane. They would have identified themselves.

Run. Hide. Run. Hide.

Heart pounding, she ducked back as a black-clad snowmobiler sped past her hidden position.

They were circling, no doubt searching for her.

Unless, coincidentally, someone else was on the run from the Barentian authorities?

She huffed.

Where the hell is everyone?

Were they hiding inside, or had they all left?

“What are you going to do, Ana?” she muttered, watching for the next passing snowmobile.

Who are these people? Barentians?

Why aren’t they just sniffing her out?

Because they aren’t Barentian? They’re probably the humans that the priestess mentioned.

The darkness.

Think Ana .

Another whizzed past her position.

She grit her teeth, trying to focus while hiding in an abandoned village from the deafening whine of snowmobile engines after running for what seemed an eternity.

Deep breath. Listen.

All she could hear was the incessant whining of the snowmobiles and the drum of her heart in her ears.

She crept along the wall to peer between the houses. The searchers were running their vehicles along the narrow paths.

She ducked back, flat against the wall.

You can keep trying to get into a building or make a run for the forest. Maybe there’s another village along the coast with a boat.

Steal a snowmobile?

I’m trapped if I don’t.

Ana, you don’t know how to drive a snowmobile any more than you know how to fly a plane!

Hide. Run. Hijack.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

Reaching for her taser, her fingers closed around it.

Next one .

She crouched and scuttled closer to the edge of the building where she hid, waiting for the next pass.

With my luck, I’d tase one, Buddy would fly off and the damned thing would crash.

How to get one to stop?

Maybe let one see her?

God, I can’t think straight!

She spared the open space toward the forest another glance. The snow was no longer pristine, as it was now marred with tracks from her pursuers.

A whining shadow raced toward her position.

The second it passed her, she launched forward, racing for the forest’s edge. She dashed across the vehicle’s tracks, and scrambled to climb the rocky incline to reach the darkness below the evergreens.

The noise behind her continued.

The trees were just yards away.

Pain pierced her back, instantly followed by the sharp snap of electricity jolting her body.

Fuck.

Rigid, she was dimly aware of falling back down the rock face toward a dark figure with an extended arm.

She wasn’t the only one with a taser.

M agnus woke to chains dragging his wrists and ankles toward the stone floor.

Ana.

Was she safe? Did she make it to the plane?

Head pounding, he groaned as he struggled to sit upright, sliding his back along the rough wall.

The damp scents of barely frozen earth told him he was in the dungeon, while the shackles growled of an impossible escape.

Cracking an eye open, he confirmed his location with the sight of the banded oak door at the far end of the narrow cell, thanks to the illumination of an electric light affixed to the ceiling.

Fuck.

Escape would be impossible so long as he sported these chains.

They made them to hold powerful shifters—like polar bear shifters.

None had ever failed. Even against his bloodline.

The biggest and strongest of Barentians.

The reason they were the chosen kings in the days when they were under constant threat of warfare from neighboring territories.

At least he’d given Ana enough time to get out of the stronghold while he’d blocked anyone from immediately chasing her down.

With any luck, she’d be on the plane and on her way to meet with Kane.

He swallowed against the sudden dryness in his mouth.

Or, they caught her, and she’s in the cell next door.

He had no way of knowing either.

If he’d ignored the temptation to speak to his son, Ana would be safe.

She trusted me to keep her safe .

They’d be on their way off this island together if he’d just adhered to the law.

She’s an agent, Magnus. You were both here on a mission .

And what did they gain?

Confirmation that things weren’t right here? Likely nothing to do with their mission, just clan politics.

That at least one other Barentian, on Barentian soil, bore a sigil.

Havard. Head of his father’s guard.

Neither Elias nor Ulla were marked.

So, what does this mean?

He held his wrists up, shook his head, and dropped them again. The chain dragged and rattled against the flagstone floor with his movement.

“Well, Magnus, looks like you’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out now.”

Was he down here to rot? Or simmer?

Ulla had charged him with treason. His father would have the final say on that, and his punishment.

They had already banished him.

That left life in prison or execution. They weren’t likely to send him on his merry way.

He glanced up at the glaring light source.

His father had refused any type of infrastructural changes to the territory for decades.

Why now, in the time of Magnus’ absence? After years of trying to convince him Barentia should modernize with the rest of the world?

Ulla.

Maybe his father had been right. The changes since he’d been gone didn’t seem to benefit those few that he’d encountered since his arrival, despite the convenience of lighting up the dark spaces that traditionally were lit by oil lamps or torch.

There hadn’t been any power lines or solar panels attached to the houses in the fishing village.

Were any of the island’s other villages the same?

It would be out of character for his father to actually implement something on the island and not extend it to the benefit of the rest of Barentia.

Whereas, Ulla never gave a shit about anyone other than Ulla.

Not even Elias.

So, what is going on?

Magnus swallowed hard as a sudden wave of despair washed over him.

Surely my father isn’t marked like Havard,

Impossible.

Bjorn Thornsson could be led by a pretty face, but he’d never be one’s whelp. Never.

Doubt continued to scratch at Magnus’ nape.

There was nothing he could do until someone opened the door.

U lla Matochkin paced the expanse of her private suite within the stronghold, chewing the edge of her left thumbnail.

Her right hand vibrated from the incoming message on her cell phone.

With a quick glance at the message, her lips stretched into a triumphant grin.

It had taken an awful lot of conniving to get satellite Internet in place to provide Wi-Fi to the archaic island. A lot of conniving, but it was already paying off.

“Gotcha.”

Tucking the device into her pocket, she strode toward the door and made her way down to the dungeons.

I finally have Magnus by the balls .

Now it’s time to twist.

Descending the stone steps with a light skip, Ulla ignored the baleful look of the lockmaster as she breezed toward him.

He unlocked the cell door and swung it open on silent hinges in time for her to step through without a break in her stride.

These Barentians are so well trained. Everyone in their place, fulfilling their roles to perfection.

She stepped into the cell.

Except Magnus.

He looked directly at her from his seated position on the stone floor, wrists and ankles encased in heavy Barentian manacles, expression guarded.

Many of her own people had fallen to the weight of those manacles in the long past.

Forearms resting on drawn-up knees, he laced his fingers together. The only signal of his agitation. “Ulla.”

“Regent. You may call me Regent now.”

That had him on his feet. “What’s wrong with my father?”

“You have no father, banished .”

His steel-gray eyes glinted as his jaw tightened. “He still has the final word on my fate, Ulla. Regent or not.”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “If he’s feeling up for it. If not, I will. As I do everything else these days.”

“What do you want?”

“From you? Absolutely nothing more than to see you break.”

Magnus snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Every muscle in her body went rigid at his affront.

Gods I hate this man .

Her eyes flicked the length of him, head to toe, unable to resist assessing his attractive physical traits.

She drew a deep breath. His scent invaded her senses, triggering memories.

Images of their marriage bed tumbled through her mind, dragging her into their past—the best parts of it, for a few seconds.

“You’re still as petty as ever.”

“Regardless of what your skewed perception of me is, you’re in prison and I have the power to save your life or end it.”

“What do you want from me, Ulla?” he repeated, voice dropping in his displeasure.

“What I’ve always wanted, Magnus. Your cooperation. That’s all.”

“You don’t want cooperation. You want everyone to kiss your ass.”

“Same thing.” She smiled.

“No, it isn’t. Is that why you had Havard marked with a control sigil? Because he wouldn’t kiss your ass? And Aksel too? Did he finally see how corrosive you truly are? How many others?”

The smile fell from her face. “Aksel? I would never—what are you talking about? Where is he?”

Her heart pounded harder with each second as his silence stretched.

Aksel had been on the ship that was seized, overseeing its journey to its distribution port.

Her ears rang as her head swam.

He escaped with the other crew members and just hadn’t reported in yet.

Her fingers slid over the cellphone in her pocket. She drew a steadying breath. Any time now, he’d message her he was in the clear and returning soon.

But how could Magnus know Aksel had been on that ship? How much did he know about the sigils?

“Who are your new friends, Ulla? Who have you let into Barentia?”

He’s fishing for the Organization.

Is that why he was really here?

What else does he know?

“When were you supposed to get married, Magnus? Or did you drag that useless human here for nothing?”

He glared at her.

“She didn’t get far,” Ulla smirked.

Magnus growled, rising to his feet. “Where is she?”

“Where is Aksel?”

“He’s lying unconscious, under the care of GPSA medics. Where is Ana?”

“ Care? ” She stepped toward Magnus.

“Ana.”

“Picked up by some friends of mine.”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed as he stepped toward Ulla, growling louder, despite the pull of the chains.

She stepped back toward the door, fear rippling throughout her body.

“Are these friends the same friends that marked Aksel with a sigil and beat him so badly he had to crawl into a control room panel to escape them?”

Pain bloomed in Ulla’s chest as her lungs constricted.

Polar bear shifters never, ever crawled.

And certainly not Aksel…

Not Aksel.

“He wouldn’t…” Wulker wouldn’t. Nor would… Not to Aksel.

“Who wouldn’t what?” Magnus pressed. “Who wouldn’t what, Ulla? Your friend wouldn’t do that to your little brother?”

“Shut up, Magnus,” she snarled back, unable to think, her gut twisted so hard.

Ulla studied her ex-husband’s stony face. He’d never been a liar.

But things change. He was an agent for the Organization.

Agents lie.

But how else could he know Aksel was on that ship, or about the sigils?

She met his eyes.

Her instinct told her he was being truthful.

Aksel was in trouble. Real trouble.

“Call your agency and have him brought to Barentia.”

Magnus shook his head. “He specifically didn’t want that.”

“You said he’s unconscious.” She stepped forward, hands fisted.

“He is.”

“You’re making no sense.”

“Ana communicated with him in the astral where he’s trapped in bear form.”

Ulla gasped, gaze dropping to the floor as her mind raced.

Magnus went on. “He’s trapped in a sea of black ink or oil, or something.”

She reached for the wall as her knees buckled.

Oh Gods, no .

“You and I—and Ana—can go to where Aksel is being safeguarded and you can see him for yourself.”

Why? Why would Wulker do this to Aksel?

Aksel had to have challenged him. But why?

What was he thinking?

“It’s too late for her—your human.” Ulla squared her shoulders, lifting her chin as she glared back at Magnus. “That’s on you, Magnus. You brought her here.”