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by Anna del Mar


  I attempted a landing, but the wind pummeled me again. Scrap that. I was testing the Firehawk tonight. The wind blew fiercely, the snow came straight at me, and I couldn’t see squat. I had to get this bird on the ground, before the wind did it for me. I hated to leave the helicopter out in the elements, but what choice did I have?

  I made another low pass over the cabin, watching the wind indicators, looking for an opportunity to land. I caught a break in the snow. The searchlights reflected a flash of snow-speckled hot pink. I did a double take. Jesus fucking Christ. I knew that jacket!

  My heart shot to my throat. My pulse pounded in my ears. Was Summer lying on the deck, exposed to the elements? I forced the helicopter down and hover-taxied into position. A stiff crosswind buffeted the bird like a giant fist. The LTE alarms went off. The helicopter lost tail rotor effectiveness.

  Oh, shit.

  The Firehawk rotated to the right. I added left pedal, but got zero response. I clipped one of Anya’s rust piles with the tail. I drifted fast into the house. Fuck. I smashed the pedal to the floor, spun the nose around, and slammed down the collective. The helicopter hit the ground with a bang. I was less than seven feet away from the cabin, but at least I was down.

  Go, go, go.

  I powered down, tucked my gun into the back of my pants, grabbed the emergency kit, and bolted to the back deck. My boots crunched on the snow. My breath came in visible puffs. I sprinted around the corner so fast I almost ran into the bear. I skidded to a stop not five feet from the stairs, where the old bear sat wearing a little pile of snow on its head like a crown.

  I reached for my gun. My stomach pitched. Had Summer walked out into the open while asleep? Had the bear attacked her? Was it about to attack me?

  With a muted groan, the bear padded down the stairs. I clambered up to the deck and vaulted over the railings, keeping my eyes on the beast. The bear paid me no heed. It ambled toward the trail and got lost in the woods.

  I tucked my gun away and landed on my knees next to Summer. Panic slammed into me. She shivered, pale as the snow and icy to my touch. Her pulse was faint. The ends of her hair had frozen and shallow puddles of snow gathered in the folds of her clothes. In her hand, she gripped a gun.

  A gun?

  I pried the gun from her blue-tipped fingers, opened the cabin door, and dragged her inside. I shut the door. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. In all my years flying search and rescue, insertions and extractions, I’d never ever lost it like this. It was as if my mind had called it quits and my heart weighed a ton in my chest. Then my training kicked in.

  For the second time in my life, I found myself taking off her clothes, boots, socks, pants. This time around, it was a lot worse. Would I find her dead the next time? What if she died on me?

  I couldn’t let that happen. No fucking way. It wasn’t going to happen. I gritted my teeth and forced my shaking hands to work. The wet layers came off one after the other, until I’d taken everything off. I dried Summer off then wrapped her in a thick bundle of blankets I lifted from Anya’s couches. Her teeth chattered. Her lips, ears, fingers, and toes were blue.

  But shivering was good. People who succumbed to hypothermia stopped shivering before they died. If Summer was suffering from an extreme case of hypothermia, if her temperature had dropped beneath a certain level and her organs had shut down, she may not survive.

  “You better not die on me.” I had no idea how long she’d been wet and exposed. I hoped it hadn’t been too long.

  Her blue-tinted eyelids opened. Her sparkling green eyes fixed on my face. Her lips pursed but her mouth couldn’t make out words. She pawed at my hand, but she couldn’t grab it. I rubbed her fingers between my palms.

  “I’ll get you warm,” I said. “I’m going to build you a fire.”

  In record time, I had a roaring fire going in Anya’s hearth. I also lit the old stove. I laid Summer on the couch and pushed it closer to the fireplace. I was very careful not to jar her. Sudden movements could trigger irregular heartbeats in hypothermic patients. I placed a cushion beneath her head. She curled up with her knees against her chest and tried to speak again, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  “Hush, baby.” I stroked her face. “You’re going to be fine.”

  I started several pots with water at the same time. I rummaged through my emergency kit, pulled out a bag of saline, and dropped it in the water as well. I tore the place apart until I found a collection of old rubber water bottles beneath the sink. I filled up the bottles with hot water and tucked them against Summer’s chest and belly, under her arms and against her groin, trying to warm her internal organs. This time, when she tried to speak, I recognized my name on her lips.

  “S-Seth?”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “This too shall pass. I’m going to hook you up with some warm saline. It should help restore your body’s temperature faster. Okay?”

  I tested the saline solution. I needed it to be about a hundred and nine degrees, but I didn’t have a thermometer, so I winged it. I had trouble finding a vein on Summer’s arm. My hands were shaking and her veins seemed to have disappeared from her body. I took a deep breath and kept trying. Dammit, Erickson, just find the fucking vein.

  After a few minutes, I located a vein in the crook of her arm and, stilling my trembling hands, inserted the needle. Okay, we were in business now. I hung the IV from the couch and rushed to brew a pot of hot tea. I managed to feed her a few sips.

  “C-careful,” she rasped. “H-he came.”

  “Who came?” I said, feeding her more tea.

  “K-killer.”

  “Killer?”

  “Brakes,” she mumbled. “Car.”

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. “You mean the man who tampered with your brakes? He was here?”

  “L-lake.”

  “Lake?” I stared at her, stunned. My mind raced, working out the different scenarios. “He tried to drown you? Is that why you were soaking wet? Is that why you had a gun in your hand?”

  “S-shot him.”

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “Are you telling me that the son of a bitch showed up here, marched you down to the lake, and tried to drown you?” I was going to kill the bastard. “Are you telling me you fought him off and then, wet and freezing, made your way back here?”

  “F-follow the bear,” she said.

  “The bear?”

  She nodded, something that required body coordination, a sign that her temperature was rising.

  “The bear,” she said. “It spoke. My mother came.”

  “Okay, sure.” She was probably hallucinating from the cold.

  “She comes,” she insisted. “In my dreams. All the time.”

  I couldn’t ignore the certainty in her eyes. “She does?”

  “She told me,” she said. “About you. That first night? She said. Trust you.”

  “Is that why you believed me?” I grappled with the odd notion. “Is that why you were so sure I was telling you the truth?”

  “Only comes...when I need her.” She shuddered. “Always tells...the truth.”

  It was a tough act to swallow for a skeptic like me, but I hadn’t believed Summer when she first told me about sleepwalking and yet it was true. I examined the facts. Summer wasn’t crazy. On the contrary, she was one of the strongest, sanest people I knew. Whether her mother really came to her or Summer’s intuition did all the work in her dreams, it didn’t matter to me. Summer believed it. Besides, I liked that I’d earned her mom’s seal of approval, even if she wasn’t around anymore.

  “No accident,” Summer muttered.

  “I know,” I said. “The killer tried to drown you.”

  “My mother,” Summer said. “He killed her.”

  Was she saying what I thought she was s
aying? “Look, baby.” I brushed her hair away from her face. “You’ve been through a lot tonight...”

  “You don’t believe me.” Her fingers clutched my sleeve. “It’s true. He killed her!”

  “But why?”

  “Don’t know. But I was there. I saw him!”

  “Are you sure he was the same man?”

  “Positive,” she said, still shivering. “Need to tell you. Everything. What I saw.”

  “You’re too tired now,” I said. “How about tomorrow?”

  “Now,” she insisted. “Before I forget. Don’t want to forget.”

  I knew how much she hated the fact that she couldn’t remember her sleepwalking episodes. I wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but if it was important to her, then it was important to me. Slowly, hesitantly, as she warmed up, she described everything she’d seen while that son of a bitch tried to drown her.

  The details. They were incredibly vivid. Her eyes were haunted. The story filled me with rage. Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she kept going and, when she was done, I was determined to look into every aspect for clues that would help us understand her mother’s death and find her would-be killer.

  “If I forget,” she said, her temperature a lot warmer than before. “Will you remind me?”

  “I’ve got it all here.” I tapped my temple. “Your story is safe. Now you need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll work on this.”

  I needed to think about everything she’d said. If her dreams were right, then the likelihood of Sergio De Havilland being involved in this dropped to almost zero. He would’ve been a kid back then. But the guy was a fucking troll and every time I heard his name, my hackles bristled. On the other hand, her dreams went way back to her childhood, which meant I had to take a look at the players back then. That is, if I found a way to confirm that Summer’s dreams were more than the sum of her fears and anxieties, true recollections.

  I kissed the top of her head. “Christ, Summer, you’re the toughest girl I know. You shot the bastard. Did you get him?”

  “Not sure.” Fear gleamed in her eyes. “Dangerous. He could still be around.”

  “Got it,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

  I secured the doors and windows, including the one I found broken in the bunkroom, the killer’s point of access. I borrowed some weapons from Anya’s case and loaded them with ammunition. I set the weapons next to the couch, chambered a bullet in my gun, refilled the water bottles, and replaced them.

  “Are you still cold?” I asked.

  She nodded. I stripped my clothes and, inserting myself between her and the back of the couch, pressed my body to hers. She still felt cold, but not icy like before. I rubbed her arms and massaged her fingers.

  Lying next to her, I took a deep breath. My lungs could benefit from a stint of oxygen therapy just about now. Or maybe it was my heart underperforming, failing to send enough blood to power my brain. Hell, I’d almost lost her. I dipped my nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. She smelled like coconut ice cream.

  “S-Seth?” she mumbled. “The hearing?”

  “Anya and Ally made it.” I couldn’t believe she was half-frozen and yet worrying about me. “The case against me was dismissed.”

  “Are you okay?”

  No, I wasn’t okay. I was raving mad and fit to howl at the moon. I had too many blips on my radar. I wanted to rip into Alex and unmask his game. I wanted to yell at Summer for defying my instructions and risking her life. I wanted to lecture her on the dangers and shake her until her brain fell into the right slot in her thick skull. At the same time, I wanted to go out there and hunt the motherfucker who’d tried to kill her. He was gonna pay. I’d be waiting for him if he made the bad decision of returning here. I took a deep breath and tried to calm the rage within.

  “Sleep now.” I hugged Summer against my body. “You need to rest.”

  “Stay with me,” she mumbled. “Don’t go out there. Promise me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She closed her eyes and, for the first time ever, did exactly as I said, at least for a little while.

  * * *

  A few hours later, in the depth of the night, Summer came awake. I knew because I’d been watching, taking her pulse, monitoring her breathing, estimating her temperature. I’d just taken her off the IV when her gaze fell on me.

  “How’re you feeling?” I said.

  “I can feel every part of me.” She turned on the couch and laid her head on my shoulder. “That’s good, right?”

  “Very good,” I said. “Are you still cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Let me get you some more tea.”

  “No more tea.” She tilted up her face and kissed me. “The only thing I need is you.”

  Her kiss jolted me to the core. My body stiffened beneath her touch. Every part of me relished those lips. My cock jerked with instant need.

  “Wait a minute.” I broke away from her mouth. “What’s this all about?”

  “You’re not going to believe me,” she said. “The bear made it clear.”

  I narrowed my gaze on her. “The bear again?”

  “It spoke like my mom. It spoke like my dad too. It told me not to waste this opportunity.”

  “Opportunity?”

  “Us.”

  She kissed me again and for the first time in hours, the panic encasing my heart began to crack. She was alive. She was well. And she was in my arms. I could deal with the rest.

  I had to make a huge effort to break off the kiss. “Maybe you were sleepwalking.”

  “I wasn’t asleep,” she said, “but I don’t think I was awake either. I was in a state in between, a place of heightened awareness. My dad was right. For years I’ve locked my fears in and the future out. I couldn’t trust anyone. It wasn’t the life I wanted, but it was the only life I thought I could have. And then you came into my life. The bear said... Oh, my God. I sound nuts. Please, forget it.”

  “I don’t want to forget it,” I said. “Explain.”

  She took a deep breath. “The bear spoke like you too, and I could feel you were already with me, in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart. “Last night, I understood what I haven’t had the courage to admit.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I already trust you.”

  With those simple words, she blew up my world. My heart boomed in my chest. Confirmation. She trusted me.

  “So,” she said, sliding her hand beneath the covers. “I’m not wasting any time, Erickson, and neither are you.”

  I caught her hand in mine. “Inasmuch as I really dig your newfound philosophy, we’re not doing this right now. You’re not well and I won’t wake up tomorrow to tears. I can’t handle that, not ever again.”

  “I’m fine.” She pushed herself up on her elbow and kissed me, enveloping my senses with the simple touch of her lips. The lethal combination of her desire and my need flattened my objections. Her hand brushed over my belly, sank to my groin and wrapped around my sex.

  “Wait.” I stammered like a fool. “I found you half-frozen to hell not five hours ago.”

  “I feel good.” She stroked me until I could barely think. “I learned on the Discovery Channel that vigorous activity helps with moderate hypothermia.”

  “Not this kind of activity.”

  “Precisely this sort of blood-pumping activity.”

  “Summer Silva, you’re breaking your own rules.”

  “Good.” She kissed my neck, my chest, my belly and pushed the blankets aside to kiss the tip of my cock. “Because I don’t need them silly rules anymore.”

  She traced my cock with her tongue, unleashing chaos in me. I groaned and shuddered, raked by waves of overpowering need. Shit. I was losing thi
s argument and I knew it, but still, I tried to hang back because I had promised myself that, the next time, it was going to be perfect.

  “How about we wait till we get home tomorrow?” I said in a strangled voice.

  “No more waiting,” she said in between playful licks, her voice determined, her eyes fast on my face. “I’m awake. Fully awake. That was your first condition, was it not?”

  I croaked. “Yes?”

  “On to your second condition.” She kept hold of my cock as she came up on her elbows. “You said you’d wait until I asked you. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well then.” She threw her leg over my thighs and straddled my hips. “Seth Erickson? I’m asking.”

  She was stunning. Illuminated by the light of the fire, she rose above me, long legs bent at either side of me, back straight, proud, beautiful breasts enticing me with a succulent offer of deliciously stiff nipples. She settled over my cock and rubbed herself up and down my erection, oiling me with her need, provoking me with her passion. Her eyes were bright with desire, but not translucent or glazed. I wanted to pinch myself. Instead, I pinched her, a quick nip on her bum.

  “Ouch!” She flinched and rubbed her ass. “What was that for?”

  “Just making sure you’re really awake.”

  “I’m awake,” she said. “I’m very awake.”

  The smile wavered on her face. The light flickered in her eyes. Doubts clouded her gaze and for an instant, I glimpsed the vulnerabilities that haunted one of the strongest women I’d ever met.

  Her lower lip trembled. “Do you not want me anymore?”

  Had I heard right? Was she really asking me if I wanted her?

  She had no clue of the effect she had on me, no idea of the power she had over me. She didn’t know that over the last few days, I’d gotten used to living in a constant state of lust. She didn’t understand that beyond wanting her, I wanted to consume her like the air I inhaled into my lungs and convert her into the oxygen that powered my life. She had no idea that she already circulated through my bloodstream and pumped through my heart, fully integrated into my biology.

 

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