Lilah sat down by Walker, who was watching Ethan with unblinking intensity. She squeezed his hand, shaking her head a little when he glanced at her.

“The weather up here cuts off the pass from the outside world for most of the winter,” Ethan said, “but it seems this blizzard shifted earlier than expected, and didn’t have time to do its worst. I was able to run some background checks when I came in this morning.”

“On us,” Walker said.

“Yeah. I like to know who comes into my town.” He closed the folder and tossed it onto his desk. “According to the Marine Corps, Sergeant Kimball, you’re on active duty. You also went missing in Afghanistan nine weeks ago. Since you’re here and not there, that makes you AWOL.”

Chapter 18

Ethan waited for Walker to say something, and when he didn’t, he turned to Lilah.

“You, Miss Gordon, aren’t in near as much trouble as your boyfriend.” He put a hand on the desk and leaned over to emphasize his next words. “Seems you up and walked out on your job and your landlord in Huntsville about a year ago. When your landlord reported it to the police, they ran their own background check, and discovered you actually died sixty-seven years ago.”

“Obviously there’s been a terrible mix-up,” Lilah said. “As you can see, I’m alive, and Walker isn’t AWOL—he’s home on leave.”

Before the sheriff could reply, a man came through the door and slammed it behind him.

Ethan’s mouth became a thin, white line. “I’m busy here, Nathan.”

“Indeed.” The man pulled back the fur-lined hood of his jacket, revealing a mirror image of Ethan Jemmet’s face, cracked across the left side in four places by thin vertical scars. “This them?”

“I said—”

“Shut up.” Nathan strode forward, and Lilah found herself being jerked up and shoved behind Walker.

“Nathan.” The sheriff’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “This is my ground. You take yourself back up the mountain. Now.”

Nathan ignored him, staring at Lilah in the same strange, riveted fashion that his brother had. He also muttered a single word in a guttural language she didn’t recognize.

“You must be the sheriff’s brother.” She stepped out from behind Walker and held out her hand. “I’m Marianne Gordon, and this is my boyfriend, Walker Kimball.”

Nathan shuffled back, jerking his head toward Ethan as if his neck didn’t want to cooperate. “If you don’t cage her, I will.”

“I am the criminal here,” Walker said suddenly. “Lock me up, but leave her alone.”

Nathan uttered a sharp laugh. “Not likely, soldier.”

“This is what’s going to happen,” Ethan said flatly. “Nate, you’re leaving. Kimball, sit down. Miss Gordon, you can go back to the inn for now.”

“You stupid bastard,” Nathan sneered. “Can’t you smell her? She’s all over him, and he can’t keep his hands off her. He won’t let her out of his sight. Put them both in the cage. Then you can jerk off while you watch. Hell, brother, you can sell tickets to every man in town.”

The sheriff lowered his head, and a heartbeat later lunged at his brother, knocking him down. The two men were punching each other before they hit the floor.

Walker pushed Lilah toward the door. “Run.”

She refused to budge, and saw the door opening again. “We have to stop this.”

The woman who entered the station wore a black leather coat and a white crocheted scarf over gleaming golden brown curls. Her lively hair framed an equally pretty, animated face. She halted as soon as she saw the brothers fighting, and put a white-gloved hand to her throat. “Ethan? What on earth are you doing?”

“Squabbling.” Walker stepped over the men, grabbing Nathan’s parka and using it to pull him off the sheriff. When Ethan tried to throw himself at his brother again, Walker planted his boot against his chest and shoved him back. “Enough of this,” he snarled. “Control yourselves. There are women here.”

The pretty girl gave Lilah a wry look. “There goes a hundred years of liberation, right out the window.” She moved carefully around Walker to stand over the sheriff.

The sheriff wiped the back of his hand across his bleeding mouth, and then looked up and froze. “Lori?”

“Hello, Ethan. Cozy little town you have up here. A bit like Currier and Ives on crack.” She offered him a hand up, and as soon as he stood, she glanced over at Nathan, who had propped himself against the wall. “Oh, dear. Either that’s your doppelgänger or an evil twin brother.”

“A groupie.” Nathan wiped the blood that was trickling from his nose. “How cute.”

The sheriff put his hands on Lori’s shoulders, gripping them as if he expected her to run out. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again.” She smiled brightly. “So, Ethan, how have you been? Where’s my bracelet?”

“How did you get up here?” Ethan countered. “And how the hell did you find me?”

“Well, first I Googled you,” she replied easily. “Then I followed a map and a snowplow.” She eyed Nathan. “By the way, evil twin brother, I’m not a groupie. I’m a one-night stand.”

Nathan pinched the bridge of his swollen nose. “Same thing.” He looked up at Lilah, breathed in deeply, and some of the harsh lines around his nose and mouth eased. “I was wrong. It’s done. You can’t keep them locked up—it won’t do any good. Let them stay.”

“After all this bullshit, you want me to offer them sanctuary?” Ethan demanded.

“Yeah.” Nathan gave Walker a narrow look. “You’ll live longer.”

The sheriff rubbed a hand over his face. “Kimball, take your girlfriend back to the inn. Get something to eat. We’ll talk later.” He turned on Lori. “I woke up and you were gone. Why did you run out on me?”

Walker hustled Lilah out through the door, closing it carefully before he looked down either side of the street.

“Why did he let us go?” she asked, still not sure of what had just transpired. Most of what Ethan and Nathan Jemmet had said to each other had gone right over her head.

“He didn’t,” he told her. “He’ll come for us after he deals with the woman and the brother.”

“So will GenHance, now that the sheriff has done a background check on you.” She huddled in her coat. “They’ll be monitoring police communications. The roads are clear, so there’s nothing to stop them from getting to us.”

“Agreed.” He peered in the window of the Land Rover parked at the curb. “The keys are still in the ignition.” He tried the passenger door, which opened. “Get in.”

“So, this is Frenchman’s Pass,” Nick said as she climbed out of the truck. “He must have been pretty damn skinny. I’ve seen bigger turnstiles.”

Gabriel spent more time examining the dark, empty street, moonlight gilding the stark beauty of his features as he took in every detail.

“This place is old.” He glanced up at the peaks around the town. “Much older than it looks.”

“Well, it looks like a set from Bonanza. No lights in the windows. Doesn’t look like anyone’s up watching Letterman.” Nick felt someone approaching and turned casually to face the man walking up behind them. “Hello.” Her gaze dropped to the badge on his breast pocket. “Sheriff.”

“You folks lost?”

“No, but we’re trying to find some people who might be.” As Gabriel came to stand beside her, Nick noted the way the sheriff’s stance changed, his knees and elbows loosening, his hands coming out of his pockets to poise ready by his sides. Expecting a fight, are you? “A man and a woman. They were abducted in Florida by a couple of thugs in an unmarked truck.” She gave him general descriptions, keeping her tone friendly and light, but he didn’t relax. If anything, his tension ratcheted up several notches.

That made his bland response even more of a surprise. “Sorry, but they’re not here. We haven’t had any strangers in town since the storm hit. You might try asking around in Chamberlain.”

“Chamberlain is thirty miles away,” Gabriel said.

Nick hid a grin as her lover deliberately shed his scent, and a warm waft of evergreen enveloped them.

Again the sheriff astonished her, this time by showing one of the most powerful pheromones on the planet didn’t faze him in the slightest. “Right by the entrance to the interstate,” he told Gabriel. “Head due west and you can’t miss it.” He nodded to Nick and strode past them, disappearing into one of the quaint old buildings.

“So much for the warmth and friendliness of small-town America.” Nick glanced sideways. “Either we’re losing our mojo, or l’attrait doesn’t work this high above sea level. He didn’t even stutter.”

“Cold dampens the senses, and some humans are capable of resisting us,” he reminded her.

“Well, I think that human doesn’t like us too much.” She closed her eyes and breathed in. “The rogue was here. So was someone, maybe the woman. Do you smell that?”

He nodded. “It’s Lilah Devereaux, but something has altered her scent.”

Nick ran through the short mental list of what she knew could change the scent of a human being. “Oh, shit,” she muttered as she realized what it was. “He didn’t. That son of a bitch.” She stalked across the street.

Her lover caught up to her. “Nicola, wait. It may not have been voluntary.”

“Right. She was asking for it.” She stopped in front of a bed-and-breakfast, where her sense of the rogue abruptly changed directions. “They were here, too, but … ” What her talent was telling her confused her. “He took her up on the mountain.” There was only one reason a Darkyn wanted alone time with a human. “If I find this girl enraptured or dead up there, I’m ripping off the bastard’s head and stuffing it down his throat. Just FYI.” She stalked around the inn.