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Darkness pressed in when Lyrica hurried outside, bundled up in her puffer jacket. The cold stung her cheeks as she hustled through the billowing snow and hopped inside the already warmed-up utility terrain vehicle waiting near the main lodge. She sighed, sinking into the heated leather s eat of the UTV.

Lukas shut her door.

She smiled at Jonathan in the driver’s seat. “This is definitely the way to go.” Most of her activities took place between the lodge and nearby buildings, so she hadn’t had much occasion in the last three weeks to venture out into the territory.

It struck her how Vero had made sure that everybody visited her in the nice, warm, safe lodge for their meetings. She shook her head to dislodge the thought, since it spun with too many distractions already and she needed to focus on t he job at hand.

Her pleasantly sore body kept d istracting her.

Jonathan snorted. “These things are a lot of fun. You should take one out and drive up the river for a while. You’d see beautiful wildlife. You wouldn’t believe the size of the moose we have here.”

The back door to the UTV swung open, and Lukas hopped inside, rocking the entire craft. He leaned forward between the two seats. “These aren’t as much fun as snowmobiles. We only have about ten, but Vero assured me that many more are on the way since we’ve decided to settle here permanently. We have some UT Vs coming too.”

Lyrica had been too busy surviving her kidnapping, and then making a difference during the last few weeks by helping to free any of the women who wanted to return to their lives. She hadn’t had the cha nce to explore.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced around at the jagged, white-capped mountains still visible through the storm arriving with dusk. Peering forward, she could barely make out the river flowing beneath crags of ice. A shiver ran down her spine. “Have your people always lived in cold areas like this? Because of your aversi on to the sun?”

Jonathan flicked on the lights, pressed down on the gas pedal, and started them down what Lyrica considered the main drag of the territory. “Yes. We used to live undergroun d quite a bit.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Really? Li ke in tunnels?”

He chuckled. “No, more like cities beneath the earth. Pretty plush. We had one headquarters on the Oregon coast where all our windows looked out at the bottom of the sea. It was delightful—until the Realm bombed us, of course.”

“Of course.” Her gaze followed the distant mountains. “It must be strange to be allies with somebody you fought against your entire life.” Jonathan had to be a couple of hun dred years old.

“It really is,” he admitted, chew ing on his lip.

The oversized UTV provided plenty of space for Jonathan’s large frame. Lyrica glanced up at the ceiling, noting how much taller it was than any other vehicle she’d seen. It made sense, considering the average height for a Kurjan male was six foot seven or eight. Jonathan matched the descrip tion perfectly.

Outside, several people worked to build additional stockpiles of food and weapons. “This is rather exciting.” She wondered what spring would bring to such a remote territory. “I thought the Canadian government owned most of the land in the country. How did you all obtain ownership of this piece?”

Jonathan grinned. “Kurjans have been around much longer than most governments. We currently own twenty square acres, though we’re only using ten. We purchased most of the land from defunct logging and railroad companies, but we already had a stake in it before that. I’m not sure where the original st ake came from.”

She sank back into the warm seat, her tender thighs protesting just enough to catch her breath in her throat. Her mind flashed back to the night with Vero and her chest tightened. Enough of that. She shifted to look at Lukas, who sat quietly in the back seat, his bulk taking up more than half of it. “So, you’ve grown up in Canada?”

“Yeah. I’m seventeen, and the Kurjans moved to Canada quite a while ago. Unfortunately, both of my parents perished in a skirmish with the demon nation when I was only five. Relatives raised me.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, though the slight downturn of his mouth said otherwise.

Her heart ached for him. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s a common story these days, but maybe now that we’re at peace, that will change.” He stared out at the snow, h is voice quiet.

She hoped so. Some of her friends had chosen to stay with the nation, and she wanted them to have long, fu lfilling lives.

Lukas leaned forward again. “I saw pictures of New York City. Is it really that jam-packed? I mean, are buildings right next to each ot her like that?”

“It is,” she replied. “Some parts of New York are more rural, and they even have farms in different parts of the state, but the cities are like you see on TV. There’s a lot of activity and excitement, and everything’s open twen ty-four hours.”

His eyes lit up. “You can get a donut at two i n the morning?”

“You can get anything you want at two in the morning. But yeah, donuts are a safe bet.” She warmed to the subjec t. “And pizza.”

He planted his hands on his knees. “Pizza. Yeah, we’ve had that a few times. I like it. Not as much as Glacie r Ale, though.”

“What’s your favorite?” she asked, hoping to keep him talking. Building a good relationship with him would help both him and Genevieve make better decisions for the ir young lives.

“Oh, definitely pepperoni,” he said. “Although the sausage was good too.” He smacked Jonathan on the shoulder. “I ate several pizzas with Glacier Ale, and it was perfect. Much better than soda. We t ried that too.”

Lyrica had tried Glacier Ale several times, and the pale drink always tasted delicious. The Kurjans must have invented it back in the Stone Age and still infused it with rare cold-water herbs like juniper or even Arctic thyme. Each bottle she drank tasted a little different from the last.

The larger buildings began to fade in the darkness, and soon cottages came into view, scattered throughout the trees. Jonathan gestured toward a large two-story cabin set against what looked like a huge snow berm. “Many of our mated couples and their families have staked o ut homesteads.”

Lyrica rubbed her cheek, immediately reminded of the whisker burn from Vero. “The homesteads look nice. This is a lot of territory, even though we’re living in the middle of the mountains. Does the Canadian government eve r come around?”

“No.” Jonathan’s purple eyes sparkled. “We pay our taxes, and we own the land outright. Every once in a while, we may have to make a threat or two—and believe me, we know how to do that— but it’s rare.”

“I’m glad it’s rare.” Lyrica swallowed the lump rising in her throat.

The makeshift trail narrowed even more, and Jonathan leaned forward as if concentrating on driving. Lyrica watched the trees whip by outside. “How fast are you going, anyway?” she asked, more curious than anything else.

“About one hundred fifty miles per hour,” Jonathan said absently. “We tweaked these to suit our needs. Do you want me to go faster?”

Lyrica reached for the seat belt to cross over her chest and fasten. “Nope. We’re good. Don’t need to go faster.” Sometimes she wondered if these guys remembered that not everybody lived forever. She glanced at Jonathan. “You told me that you’re over a hundred yea rs old, right?”

“I’m about a century and a half, give or take twenty years,” he said, speeding up slightly. “I never paid much attention to that kind of thing.”

“You don’t celebrate birthdays?” She frowned at the thought.

He shook his head. “I think that’s a human thing. Well, apparently a vampire and demon one too, but no, that’s never been part of our culture. We do have festivals through the year, though. There’ll be a fun winter one coming up in what? About five weeks?” He glanced back at Lukas.

“Oh yeah. I’ve already asked Genevieve to be my date,” Lukas said happily. He rummaged near his seat. “I’m starving. Did you bring an ything to eat?”

Jonathan sighed, reached into the side pocket of the UTV door, and tossed back thre e granola bars.

Lukas caught them and tore into one immediately. “I’m still growing,” he said defensively, cru mbs scattering.

Jonathan smirked. “I know.” He glanced at Lyrica. “So, you and Vero, huh?” His attempt at small tal k startled her.

The unexpected attention made Lyrica laugh despite herself. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, that sounds like romance to me,” J onathan teased.

She turned the question back on him. “Are you s eeing anybody?”

He shook his head. “Never had much luck with the ladies. Being kicked in the head and all.”

She fought the urge to pat his arm. The Kurjans always seemed so restrained. “You know, a two hundred IQ is still beyond the extraordinary genius level. It’s considered off the char ts for humans.”

Jonathan cut her a look.

She frowned. “Hey. Hum ans are smart.”

Lukas mumbled through a mouthful of granola bar. “Isn’t their average IQ aroun d one hundred?”

“I think so,” Lyrica said. “Above average is one-twenty. Einstein was ab out one-sixty.”

“Poor Einstein,” Jonathan muttered, shaking his head. “Was he kicked in the head too?”

She rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to smack her hand against her forehead. “No. He was a genius.”

“Oh yeah, for humans.” Jonathan took another sharp turn. “I believe Ralstad and Maeve claimed one of these cabins farther into the trees.” He glanced around. “I think I’m going the right way.”

Lukas slapped him on the arm. “It’s up that wa y,” he mumbled.

Jonathan cocked his head. “I see it.” He slowed the vehicle as the trail curved into a dense grove of sn ow-laden trees.

Lyrica squinted through the storm, struggling to make out the faint outline of a cabin ahead. It didn’t seem fair that Kurjans had superior eyesight. “Out of curiosity,” she began, “if a human mates a Kurjan, do they get be tter eyesight?”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan said, his tone thoughtful. “They get immortality and sometimes their mate’s gifts. If you have a psychic Kurjan, the mate might become psychic, too. But I think that takes centuries to evolve. I don’t know about eye sight, though.”

“Huh.” She shifted in her seat. It would be nice to have bionic vision—if that wa s even a thing.

Lukas slowly unwrapped another granola bar. “Mates also develop the ability to communicate t elepathically.”

“Really?” She turned to him. “I’ve never heard that.” Truthfully, she hadn’t been let in on many of the Kurjan secrets. The more she thought about it, the more unsettled she felt. How much about Vero did she not know? And how much did sh e want to know?

Lukas nodded, shoving half the bar into his mouth. “I’ve heard that the skill takes centuries to evolve, but there are a few who get it right away. I don’t think I want anybody reading my mind all day.”

Jonathan shot him a look over his shoulder. “Nobody wants in y our head, kid.”

Lukas snorted.

Jonathan eased up on the speed as a small structure appeared through the snow. “There it is,” he said, his tone shifting. He squinted past the windshield. “Wai t—what’s that?”

Lukas leaned forward, frowning. “Something’s on the grou nd over there.”

Jonath an braked hard.

Lyrica yelped as her seat belt tightened against her chest. She angled her head to see beyond him into the trees, but the whipping snow, dark night, and blowing wind obscured her sight. She squinted. “I s that a foot?”

“Stay here,” Jonathan ordered, tossing open his door and jumping out. Luka s followed him.

Panic shot through her as she fumbled with the belt. Ignoring his warning, she scrambled out of the UTV and stumbled into the thick snow. Kicking through the powder, she followed the others toward the disturbed surface. Her heart pounded as her gaze locked on a pale, bare foot sticking out from beneath a low- hanging branch.

That couldn’t be Maeve, could it? Had Lyrica arrived too late to help the obviously frightened woman? She leaned over to see a frozen female foot with pink toenail polis h. Bright pink.

Lukas aimed a flashlight on a barely there form be neath the snow.

Jonathan crouched beside the figure, his movements careful. He brushed the snow off the body, revealing long, dark hair matted with ice and blue eyes frozen wide-open. Naked and bruised, the woman lay utterly still in death.

Lyrica’s stomach lurched, and she fo ught down bile.

“We have another one,” Jonathan muttered, his voice grim.

“Do you recognize her?” Lyrica’s teeth chattered as she tried to steady her breathing.

Lukas shook his h ead. “I don’t.”

“Me either.” Jonathan glanced toward the cabin. “I’ve never seen her before. She’s not from the Kur jan territory.”

How was that even possible?