CHAPTER ONE

 

It’s taken three whiskey-and-cokes and two hours of sickening flirting, but Williams finally goes to empty his bladder. I slot the USB with the hacking software into his personal computer and let my eyes stray to the closed door of his office’s private bathroom.

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I hear him humming to himself above the sound of urination, and I barely stop from retching. I’m down to my camisole and skirt, and I wasn’t sure what excuse I could come up with to stop his skin-crawling advances. If he believes I’m even halfway attracted to him, I can only boil it down to his ego. Plain and simple.

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The guy is in his mid-fifties, balding, with a serious paunch. The one thing going for him is his power. If I were a greedy slime-bucket like the rest of the people on his dirty-laundry list, I wouldn’t care about his sweaty palms and his smarmy smile. The only thing I want to do with him is find enough evidence to make his inevitable arrest irrefutable. Once I have what I need to nail him, I’ll take it to the right people—those who aren’t on his payroll.

Unfortunately, that’s a long list and includes my boss who fired me today because I pushed this story when he told me to drop it. Multiple times. I chalk up Andrew Scott’s name onto the growing list of people Michael Williams has paid off.

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I’d wondered why my articles about the victims of Williams’ crimes never got published, replaced instead by glowing stories of how much the councilman was doing for his community. When I confronted my boss and editor, I found out why with a finger pointed at the door and a warning to drop things if I was smart. I’m not that type of girl; I mean, I’m smart, just not easily bought. I’ve worked too hard and for too long to let scumbags like Michael Williams get off free.

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Not after what he’s done to his latest victim, who happens to be my sister. He doesn’t know we’re related, which is sad because Emily has worked as his personal assistant for the past six months and he hasn’t noticed our similarities. Our raven-black hair and bright blue eyes are startling enough to connect us as Johnson sisters.

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Emily loved her job for the first two months, then she came across anomalies in payments made from public funds to private accounts. Large amounts that didn’t add up. She questioned Williams about it because she’s damn good at her job. He didn’t deny it, but he threatened her husband and baby if she ever went to the cops, and that’s when she came to me and we hatched this plan.

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Four months later and we have some evidence, but I want the gold that’ll lock him up in a five-inch-thick Perspex cell similar to the one in the television program The Blacklist. The idiot kept Emily on as his PA, thinking he had her under his thumb. Of course, she hated it, but it enabled her to keep a close eye on what he did and where he saved his incriminating files.

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It’s all on this laptop. She left it on the cabinet beneath a stack of files in his office instead of the locked drawer he gets her to put it into. It’s why I’m here, trying to get him drunk enough that he needs to take a piss so I can get to it. Unfortunately he has a cast-iron bladder for a man well into his fifties, and I’ve been forced to keep my lunch in my stomach while I try to look interested in him.

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I watch the solid blue bar creep up the screen as though I can will it to go faster. A bright red flare reflects off the computer screen from outside the window. It’s the sun flare they’ve been warning us about, but then I let it go. I have more important things happening than a solar flare. Eighty percent. Ninety. Almost there. The toilet flushes and water flows from the faucet.

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Copy faster, you fucker.

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Static runs across the computer screen. It rises like mist on a winter’s night, then invades the room, swirling around me. I reel backward, shock stealing my breath. No! No, no, no, no, no. What’s happening? I tap the side of the computer, but my hand passes through the device.

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Am I hallucinating? I can’t move. I can’t blink. My stomach rolls around thick sludge.

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Williams’ office disappears, and I’m surrounded by streaks of starlight. The darkness of the universe yawns around me. I can’t feel my body. I’m as insubstantial as the light streaming around me. Or maybe I’m racing through it. It’s hard to tell what I am or where I exist.

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A tunnel twists around me, shooting me through it, curving one way then the next. Whatever I’m made of comes undone. I shatter apart and in the blink of a moment, I either exist only in this vacuum or not at all. I’m nothing and everything all at once before I come back together again, but not quite in the same way. I can’t pinpoint what’s different in me, but it’s there, like a switch that’s been off all my life has been turned on in a way I never thought possible.

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I’m not hurtling through the tunnel now. I’m falling. Tumbling through air. Gravity catches my body. Freezing wind cuts through my clothing. My vision is whitewashed, and I’m thrown into a blanket of snow.

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This isn’t the powderpuff snow depicted in cartoons and rom-com movies set in a ski resort. This snow is made from icy shards that sting and bite. I roll, out of control, across the hard-packed ice until I thankfully come to a stop.

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I try to untangle my limbs, but it’s hard to move. The frigid air cuts into me, freezing my bones and turning my blood to sleet. I have to sit up. Have to move. I know I’ll freeze to death if I don’t. But I can’t. My muscles are heavy, and I’ve been churned up from the inside out.

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My work skirt and silk camisole are useless. They’re drenched and freezing against my skin. I might as well be naked. My teeth chatter so hard I might chip a tooth, and I shiver so violently all I can do is draw my ineffective mess of limbs into a ball and wait until my body freezes solid. It won’t take long in this weather, this ice. Snowflakes rain down on me and melt on my skin.

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How am I here?

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Did I just die?

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Where the fuck am I?

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An inhuman bellow shreds the air. It’s a cross between a lion’s roar and a wolf’s howl. The hairs on my arms rise. I’ve lost a shoe, but that’s the least of my concerns. Something heavy crunches on the ice and comes toward me. I clamber onto haunches, fingers digging into the snow. A thick fog hangs around me. Snowflakes pelt me, and a chill air rustles the few trees surrounding me.

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A branch snaps and echoes behind me. I whirl around. I don’t know, but I’m too scared to worry about bodily functions when I’m looking into the maw of certain death. A creature stalks toward me, so white it blends in with the mist and the piles of snow surrounding it.

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I look up and up and up. Wide, round, pitch-black eyes stare intently at me. Its eyes are the only color on its face and body. A triangular nose sits above a massive muzzle that hangs open. Rows of serrated teeth drip thick yellow saliva onto the snow. It resembles a cat and I wish it was, but this animal is all predator.

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It raises its nose, the nostrils flaring, before it lowers its head and slinks around a tree. Shaggy white fur hangs to the ground, covering the rest of its body. Wicked curved claws as long as my forearm spear the snow. I’m definitely the prey.

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I leap up and try to make a run for it. My feet have gone numb. I pump my legs as fast as I can, but my muscles resist movement. I fall forward and my face lands in the snow. I don’t notice if I’ve hurt myself because blind panic whites my mind with the certainty that these are the last few seconds of my life. I whip around and onto my back as the creature leaps.

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A blur of light blue and white scales flashes past me. A creature crashes into the beast, takes it to the ground, and stamps on it. I peer at the enormous body that has taken such a predator to the ground. It’s a greater predator, the apex of beasts, and all I can do is stare at its shining scales, its unfurling leathery wings, and the long, pointed tail that thumps into the snow. It raises its head and bellows. Its electric blue eyes roll in its head, and it gnashes lethal white teeth at the animal underneath it. It snaps its wings, and the whip-crack resounds through the trees.

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Dragon. The word slices through my panic. The new beast is a snow dragon that blends perfectly with the landscape.

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The dragon turns its head toward me. Its nostrils round, making a snuffling sound as it sniffs. It might be cute if I didn’t imagine myself being crunched between its teeth. It would only take one, maybe two bites before it would swallow me. The furry beast flips onto its back, twists away from the dragon, and dashes off into the mist. I’ve escaped one predator for another.

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And holy hell, because another dragon rushes through the underbrush and comes up short when it sees me. This dragon’s eyes are pale pink, and an iridescent pink sheen flashes through its scales. Its mane, made from strands of the same pale color, runs down its neck and waves in the breeze. They’re beautiful. Unearthly. And predators who both have their sights set on me.

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When figures jump from the backs of the dragons, I dig my heels into the snow and push back. I hadn’t noticed them before, which says something about me because the way these males stalk toward me screams more apex predator. Larger than the giant cat and the dragons.

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“I’ve died and gone to Middle-earth.” The words slip out, but these are no hobbits.

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They are not gentle. Or small. They prowl toward me on tree-trunk-sized legs. Broad shoulders sit above massive chests. Cloaks of white fur cover their shoulders. The fur is thick and plush and goes up to their ears. I might say that the fur bulks them out, but one glance at their huge, round biceps tells me it doesn’t.

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Thick thigh muscles push out their light-tan breeches, and heavy boots lace to their knees. Nothing can disguise the massive bulges between their thighs that let me know they are undeniably male.

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“Awmygha,” the one with long, black, silky hair rumbles. His voice is a growly boom that sinks into me and turns my abdomen to water.

I pull my gaze from the package he’s sporting between his thighs to his stunning eyes that are so dark they could be almost black if I didn’t catch the lighter flecks that reflect the snow. His nose is narrow and straight and set over plump lips that are made for kissing. His skin is as dark as his eyes. Dark navy on dark navy, as deep as the universal sky I flew through.

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“Man hi wakayf ‘atat litakun huna?” the other male asks. This male is the polar opposite of his companion. His close-cropped white hair frames a rounder face. Elven ears peek from the jagged strands and swivel in my direction. His eyes remind me of a summer sky, boundless and clear, peering at me with what seems to be the same awe as the other one.

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His lips are a darker blue and flare wide as he openly regards me. A myriad of emotions passes across his face. Shock. Awe. Curiosity. And last of all, unmistakable heat.

 

The males stand over my prone form, their legs planted like solid trees in the snow. They steal my entire focus. I try to find a word for them. Goblins. Orcs. Elves. None suit, then my mind snaps: aliens.

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Holy fucking whizz on a stick, these males are aliens!

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Tantalizing scents drift toward me. Pine and frost—which remind me of my grandmother’s farm—and fresh snow tinged with mint mingle in the air. My mouth waters. Hmmm. Delicious.

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A wave of languid heat from nowhere rolls through me, contrasting with my frozen body. Something tightens in my abdomen. My core swells and wet heat dribbles between my legs. What the hell?

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Have I somehow hurtled through space and turned inside out? My feet and hands are so frozen I can’t feel them, I’m clearly losing my damned mind, and I’ve dampened my panties.

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The dark male’s nostrils flare as he drags air deep into his lungs. What’s with all the sniffing? His skin lights up with a dazzling blue glow. His eyes spark from deep navy to electric blue.

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The lighter male sucks in a fast breath. His shoulders jerk as he also glows with a streak of blue that originates from deep within him. His eyes glow so bright it lights his face and the surrounding snow.

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The glow recedes and the dark male’s skin returns to its navy hue. The snow puffs out as he falls to his knees and reaches toward me. “Hi rafiqatuna. La ‘usadiq ‘anana wajadnaha akhyran.”

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I flinch out of his reach even though the urge to lean into him feels like the most natural thing in the world, but I don’t know him. I don’t know where I am and I’m fucking terrified. “Don’t touch me.”

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His fingers clench and slowly form a fist. It stays raised between us. “Ala taelam man nahnu? ‘Ala tasheur bih Aydan?”

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A line forms between the white brows of the lighter blue male, and he kneels next to me as well. “Nahn rifaquka. Lan nudhiaka.”

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“I don’t know who you are or what you want with me, but I want to go home. There’s something very important I have to do. My sister is relying on me and . . .” My throat closes and I can’t speak. It might be shock. Or I’m becoming a block of ice. Or maybe because the only reason I can think to explain where I am and why very real, very large aliens are within touching distance is that somehow, someway, I’ve crossed the universe and am on another freaking planet.

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How is that possible? And fucking why has it happened?

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I take one great big gulp of air and try to keep everything in, but it’s impossible. A sob bursts from me and I can’t stop. My chest heaves. I’m so cold my teeth rattle in my head, and I shiver so violently I think I put my hips out.

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Silver-hair cries out. He moves so fast I don’t realize he’s wrapping me up in his enormous fur cloak, settling me on his thick, hard thighs, and pressing me into the planes of his warm, broad chest. I struggle because he’s an alien and I don’t know why the hell I find him so attractive.

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He arranges me on his lap as though I’m not doing my best to push off that massive chest and pulls me to him with no effort at all. It’s so easy for him. His body mass is easily five times mine, and it’s all well-honed muscle. His fingers clasp the back of my head and smoosh my face against his hot skin.

Fresh mint drifts around me, and I drag the scent into my lungs. I can’t help it. I inhale as much as I can, savoring the flavor as it seeps into my bloodstream. His chest rumbles to life, and the most delicious sound reverberates through me. The fight drains from me as though I don’t have a will. I want to curl up in his warmth instead. I’m . . . safe. Protected.

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Which makes no sense at all.

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An awareness unfurls, raising its head in my core as heat steals through me. My stomach cramps, and wetness gushes from me again. Sweet caramel blooms upward. A tremor works through silver-hair’s hands before he strokes a massive palm over my back.

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Another purr joins his as blue-eyes moves behind me. His massive hands fold over my shoulders, and I’m engulfed in heat and masculine attention. I can’t think. I should be fighting. I need to get away. I have to . . . Their purrs intensify, and my bones turn to liquid.

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“Awmygha. ‘Ant lina.” Blue-eyes nuzzles my hair.

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I should be shaking, sobbing, running, but I’m not. I’m soft and compliant. They could do anything to me, and I’m helpless to stop them. I’m thoroughly trapped.

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