Chapter 1

Chapter 1

R

oxanne Elliot jumped

down from the open door of the biplane onto the dusty runway, cursing her stupid luck once again.

Her turn.

That’s what her foster brother Brett had said when he’d called her last week. Safehouse had been activated. They had a client, she had to take over the job, and she was still grumbling about it. But, after her parents died in a tragic earthquake, her uncle Merrick had raised her and her three foster brothers, Brett, Levi, and Henry, in the wilds of Alaska. All her life, he’d emphasized the role they played in providing safety to paranormal beings on their property when needed. Now that they were all older, they took turns completing the jobs when they came up. Of all the rotten luck, it was just Roxy’s freaking turn.

The pilot climbed out too and sidled up next to her. A childhood friend, Steve Henson threw an arm around her shoulder. “Really is good to see you back, Roxy. You’ve really been taking care of yourself. You look hot.” His eyes widened at his own words, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. His arm dropped to his side. “How long do you plan to stay?”

For the briefest of moments, she considered he might have been hitting on her. Then, she remembered what she was—man repellent personified. At least she repelled men when it came to sexual involvement. Something about her always put her into the little-to-no-physical-contact zone, and no matter how hard she threw herself at a man, never once in her life had she been taken up on her offer.

Virgin.

Her unbelievable, little secret, and not for lack of trying on her part. She was dying to turn in her V-card.

“Don’t know. Depends on the client and how long he or she plans on staying.”

“Well, maybe I’ll get Sarah to drive out that way and keep you company for an evening.”

It was almost laughable how well she called these situations. Sarah was his sister, and though she was good company, Roxy felt bewildered at the offer. Why hadn’t he suggested visiting her in an out-of-the-way log cabin in the woods? She would have turned him down, but still...what was wrong with her?

Attracting members of the opposite sex wasn’t the hard part. That one aspect about her swag never failed. Men flirted, asked her out, even fooled around with her, but the moment she suggested taking it up a notch and getting him to de-hymenate her, he immediately lost interest. It was downright baffling and not-a-little ego-deflating.

“That would be great, Steve. Give her my cell number and tell her to contact me when she can come up.”

Was she completely deluded when it came to her looks? She might not be perfect, but she wasn’t unattractive...at least she didn’t think she was. Her body was curvy, but she worked out and kept herself in shape. Hair was styled with high-end professional-styler curls that framed her face, eyes were an interesting shade of blue, and even her sense of humor drew men closer. Yet, when it came time to take it a step further, they suddenly couldn’t get away fast enough. If she didn’t know better, she might believe that, upon her birth, someone had scrawled a message across her forehead that warned men off. UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DON’T HIT THIS.

“Great! Your SUV is waiting out front. See you around.”

He handed her the few bags she’d brought with her and ran toward another building she assumed was the airplane hangar. She shook her head, thoroughly baffled, and walked inside the main building, which seemed to be completely vacant until she noticed a soft snore coming from behind the wooden counter that served as the travel check-in station.

She shuffled over, not sure whether she’d find human or animal. Yet, the sight of the clerk resting in a chair tipped back against the wall, zonked out for his afternoon nap wasn’t unusual in this slow-moving little area. With a clearing of her throat, the older man sat forward, letting all four chair-legs rest on the floor and rumbled, “How canna help ya?”

His crinkled eyes were barely visible under bushy white eyebrows and his mouth was hidden in a snow-white beard that hung to the top of his chest. She almost laughed at the level of attention he suddenly gave, almost as if he hadn’t just been running a heavy saw through some logs a minute ago.

“Do I need to give a credit card number for the use of the rental car out there?”

“Credit card? Nah, Roxy Elliot! If we need to get a hold of ya, m’sure Steve knows how ta find ya.”

That’s what you got when you traveled miles from civilization. This was middle-of-nowhere Alaska, and though your next door neighbor might be a good fifteen minutes to a half-hour away, the population was small enough everybody knew who everybody was and where he or she lived, even if you didn’t dare pop in for a social visit on a whim. Too many territorial, gun-toting folks didn’t take kindly to trespassing. Better to set up all social calls ahead of time.

He handed her the keys, and she wished him well while exiting into the cool, summer afternoon. She breathed the fresh air and felt satisfaction in her chest, resulting in a smile on her lips. Maybe she didn’t want to be here caring for the client in the safehouse, but she didn’t mind actually being

here

. This was one of the last true wilderness paradises left in the United States, and part of her always felt at home amongst the flora and fauna of such an uncivilized place. Perhaps that said something about her she wasn’t exactly ready to acknowledge, considering she lived a cemented city life in Ohio nowadays.

One truth she knew to be a fact would surprise most everyone she knew, but it was something she’d known for all twenty-four years of her life. She wasn’t entirely human. It was one reason she was qualified to cover the safehouse duty. This safehouse served to protect supernatural beings, and her uncle’s family had apparently been charged with its safekeeping for hundreds of years. And though she was relatively new to the process, she and her brothers would continue to be the guardians for hundreds more years as well.

Roxy climbed into the yellow Nissan Xterra and started it up. She didn’t have to consult the GPS, seeing as she’d been raised with her brothers on the property by her uncle. It wouldn’t have shown up on any roadmap or mapping software anyway. It was hidden from mortals and even most paranormals, but she would still double-check the protective talismans buried at each corner of the property just to reassure herself her client was completely safe.

She put the car into gear and pulled it out onto the two-lane highway that ran in front of the airport. Feeling-sorry-for-herself-time was over. Now it was time to get to work.

The drive along this stretch of highway might give motorists the impression it was completely deserted. Roxy knew that was not even close to the truth. The woods did hold residents. People who liked their privacy, many of whom were supernatural beings who had a real reason to stay far away from humans in order to go about their normal existence shifting, changing, and often destroying things around them. It was one reason Roxy normally avoided other paranormals. They weren’t exactly the gentlest of creatures to be around. Most were top-notch alpha-predators. It made her a tad nervous to meet her new client, whom she knew nothing about. Not even a name. Her brother could’ve at least told her that much.

As she drove, she mentally ticked off the many things she needed to do in order to prepare the safehouse and nearly missed seeing the man on the side of the road. She slowed down and swerved over to give him plenty of room, surprised by the icky vibe she got as his gaze met hers. His hair was buzzed and appeared dark. His face was set in a scowl that made her skin crawl. He was muscled and exuded an aggressive energy. Even in the cool air, he wore short sleeves and an image on his upper arm caught her attention. He had a tattoo that she couldn’t quite make out but somehow felt significant. Her feelings were rarely wrong.

The thought to snap a picture with her phone came to mind, and she tried to steady her hand and not crash at the same time. Not the safest thing she’d ever done. She snapped a few shots but was sure they’d all be too blurry to make out. Maybe she could talk one of her computer savvy friends into trying to clean the photo up with some software. Mia Alexander had some skill when it came to tech stuff. She felt sure, seeing that tattoo up close was important.

She knew two things for sure. He wasn’t human, and he didn’t like her.

With a shiver down her spine, she sped up and started to pull away, but a quick look in her rearview mirror showed him running to keep up with her.

“What the...?”

She pushed her foot down harder until she tapped the floorboard, but he continued after her.

What was he?

After about twenty more seconds though, he began to slow, and she began to pull away until he finally stopped, his face tight with frustration, anger, or some other strong emotion.

Well, that was downright freaky. Some mental-case, superman, wannabe? A bad omen for things to come? She really hoped not. But something about the man screamed psycho and hatred for all things Roxy.

Alaska was shaping up to be a wilder place than even she’d expected. Hopefully, that was the most trouble she encountered while here.

Somehow, she doubted it.

D

ONOVAN WARREN ROLLED

over, wincing in pain at the motion. He ached from the top of his cracked skull to his shattered knees. Lisada and her minions had done a number on him, but he’d gotten away. He’d left everything behind, including his cell phone, but once he’d heard over the intercom at Campbell’s house that the plan was to escape and then to meet at the safehouse in Alaska, he’d broken free...barely. He and the others had thought they were untouchable and hadn’t been ready for the intensity of an attack by a powerful witch and her followers. Yet, he was sure everyone had gotten out alive. And he was in a hurry to meet up with them and de-brief the situation. Where did they go from here? Only as a united group could they take on and defeat whatever evil was behind the escalation in attacks on paranormal beings lately.

For now, he woke alone in another hotel bed, but seeing as he was already in Alaska, he should reach the safehouse tonight, and though dragons didn’t heal as quickly as other supernatural beings, he hoped his injuries would be mostly mended by the time he arrived. Last thing he needed was to be ribbed by Mac the cagey werewolf, Campbell the bleeding heart vampire, and Achak the tricky shape-shifter about not being able to hold his own. He smiled to himself. They were a motley crew of paranormal beings, but they were tighter than tight.

He rose from the bed slowly and gathered the few items he’d managed to scrounge together as he traveled over the last couple days. Every movement brought a new round of pain, but he needed to get to the safehouse as soon as possible. From there, they could regroup and figure out what to do next.

One good thing about traveling light, even involuntarily, was that he was ready to go within a matter of minutes. With care, so he didn’t tear any of his self-done stitches, he lifted his emergency duffle over his shoulder. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to run in a hurry. Now he kept the bag behind the seat of his Ford pick-up for just such a time as this.

A quick check-out, and Donovan stepped into the sunlight. He held the door for an elderly lady dragging a heavy suitcase inside. Without thought, he picked up the baggage for her and walked it to the counter.

“Thank you, young man.”

“No problem. Do you need me to cart it to your room for you?”

“Oh, no. This young man behind the counter will take care of me.”

With a nod, Donovan picked up his own luggage, walked toward the parking lot, and stopped short at the sight in front of him. He dropped his bag and stepped around his truck, getting angrier by the moment. Every single one of his tires had been slashed and were flat beyond repair.

What the...?

He looked around at the few other vehicles in the lot. No one else’s car seemed to have taken any damage, which meant one thing for sure. He’d been targeted.

With his gaze scanning the area, he backed up onto the sidewalk. As far as he could see, nothing out of the ordinary was stirring. Nobody was even in the parking lot.

“Dammit!”

Donovan walked back toward the entrance to the hotel and approached the front desk.

“Do you have security cameras mounted outside?”

The clerk raised his gaze from the computer screen in front of him and explained, “We do.” Then realization hit and the smile fell from his face. “Do I need to call the police?”

Reaching into his pocket for his wallet, Donovan asked, “What kind of vehicle do you drive?”