Whiteout (Aurora Sky

Aurora Sky

Vampire Hunter

 

Vol. 5, Whiteout

 

 

By Nikki Jefford

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Nikki Jefford

All rights reserved

 

 

www.NikkiJefford.com

 

Cover design by ©Phatpuppyart.com - Claudia McKinney

 

Cover models photographed by Teresa Yeh Photography

 

Cover models: Gabriella, Lee, and Graham

 

Cover typography by Najla Qamber Designs

 

 

To find out when the final Aurora Sky novel (volume 6) releases, sign up for an
alert by email
.

 

 

Table of Contents

 

No Man's Land

The One Who Got Away

Intruder

Search Party

Wanted

Home Base

Battle Attire

Detour

Resistance Is Futile

Date With The Devil

Ancient Evil

The Hunter And The Hound

Misdirection

Chillers

Active Duty

Alias

Bombshell

Double Or Nothing

Time Bomb

Blizzard

Blood And Bullets

Faceoff

Flight

Above And Beyond

Aurora Sky Returns

Thank You

Name A Character Contest Winners

Acknowledgements

About The Author

Hope(less) Excerpt

Runes Excerpt

 

 

For every reader who needs an escape.

 

 1

No Man's Land

 

Birch trees bent under the weight of icy limbs, a masquerade in white bark that cloaked the ashen sky. The land had turned pale—from the snow underfoot to the frost clinging to the branches overhead. Ice crystals seemed to surround my very soul, encasing my heart in a bitterly cold grip of Siberian proportions.

Whoever said it was all about the journey and
not the destination obviously
had never
lived life on the lam.

The longer Dante and I trekked, the more it appeared the forlorn road bisecting the forest had no end. The inch of snow on the ground was undisturbed, indicating no one had been in or out in th
e past few days, if not weeks.

Unlike the previous locations we'd scouted, Dante knew about this one from a prior mission.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked for the umpteenth time.

“I never forget a kill site,” Dante said, jaw set.

All traces
of humor had disappeared from my former partner since abandoning civilization. Learning that the agency he worked for was corrupt, that he was the very thing he'd hunted in the past, had
a certain dampening effect.

But the crowning jewel had been when I t
old Dante my heart belonged to Fane.

Talk about twisting the knife.

We walked on opposite sides of the road in tandem. It prevented either of us from having to look at the other.

Despite my best efforts to keep a safe, steady pace, the tip of my boot caugh
t on a rock
.
I let out a muffled cry of alarm, arms flying out to steady myself. The snag was minor; I barely stumbled. I wished I hadn't cried out, but I'd been too startled to shut my mouth in time.

Dante continued forward without so much as a sideways g
lance in my direction. A second later he was whistling a merry tune.

My fingers balled into fists inside my knit mittens.

“I'm fine
,
by the way,” I ground out between chattering teeth.

Again, I should have held my tongue, but cold and fatigue made me crabb
y, and
damn it
, when a person cried out, anyone within hearing distance should ask whether she was all right, not start whistling
!

The whistling didn't stop until Dante reached the end of his tune. His broad shoulders turned toward me.

“You wanted space
;
I
'm giving you space.”

“Space, not the cold shoulder,” I said under my breath.

I stepped over a misplaced branch, watching the ground carefully. I didn't want Dante to feel obligated to ask after me if I happened to yelp again.

Dante looked over. “We're in
this together,” he said in a reassuring voice.

Together and separate—just so long as we weren't sharing a sleeping bag.

He'd acted surprisingly calm since stocking up on supplies in Wasilla, treating our exodus into the interior as though it were any old
mission. Operation Stay Alive.

We'd stayed at the last cabin for two nights before Dante said it was time to press on. Now we were outside of Cantwell on the outskirts of Denali National Park.
After Jared escaped into the woods by Winner Creek
,
I had wanted to head east toward Canada, but Dante insisted we go north into familiar territory.

We continued forward, following the road through the woods.

A small clearing opened to Dante's right. An old yellow-tinted fridge stood upright, main door ope
n wide, the inside shot out. The side of the fridge was covered
with
rusted holes, and empty shell casings littered the ground all around the doomed appliance.

Welcome to th
e beautiful Alaskan wilderness.

The road angled toward the mountains, moving us awa
y from the shot-up fridge.

The air was stagnant. One big cold spot.

I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my body—I needed them for balance over the inhospitable road. We might have to snowshoe into the next place. Wherever—and whenever—that might be.

T
he
dusting of fresh
snow
seemed to silence
the world. With the solid gray
sky
overhead, I felt like I was in a padded cell rather than free in the wild.

I cast a forlorn look over the landscape. “Who knew the color white could look so
gray
.”

Dante turned
to me, an odd grin forming over his lips. “The sky is
gray
.”

I squinted, unsure what had gotten him excited all of a sudden until he busted into “California Dreamin'” from the Mamas & the Papas, voice carrying across the skeletal trees as he sang about go
ing for a walk on a winter's day.

This was no casual winter walk. We were on the run from a government agency with unlimited resources and a strict policy against deserters.

Before I could stop my brain, it chorused back the lyrics Dante sang.

“Dante,” I s
aid sternly.

“What?”

I shook my head. “What happened to stealth?”

“There's no one here but us for miles,” Dante said, sweeping an arm in front of the snow-covered road. “We're in no man's land. Ground zero. Lost to the world.”

A lonely ache pulled at my c
hest. We really were off the reservation. Giselle didn't even trust burner phones, which meant we were cut off from the world. Cut off from Fane.

I blinked rapidly as tears swarmed my eyes and froze over my lashes.

I tried to block Fane from my mind. At le
ast during the day. Just thinking his name was enough to trigger physical pain, like stepping into a steel trap that cut through flesh and bone. Once it got hold, it was nearly impossible to shake off.

There was nothing and no one to comfort me. I only hop
ed I hadn't put Dante through similar heartache. The feelings he projected were ones of bitter disappointment. Blame.

He didn't love me as I loved Fane.

I swallowed down the woolly
-
mammoth
-
sized lump in my throat. Survival took precedence over broken heart
s and hurt feelings.

I stopped and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

Wood smoke. It stirred inside me feelings of campfires, comfort… and impending doom.

Dante came to a stop beside me, lifting his nose. “Perhaps it's coming from a neighboring cabin,”
he said.

“I thought you said this area was secluded.”

“It is,” Dante replied as he stripped off his gloves and reached into his holster for the revolver he'd picked up at the Wasilla Wal-Mart. Good ol' Alaska
—
where guns and ammo could be purchased with les
s grief than a pack of cigarettes. Residents would sooner accept polygamy than gun control.

I pulled off my mittens and stuffed them inside my coat pockets before retrieving Jared's pistol
from the holster around my waist
. Giselle had bought
the
waistband
holster for me, along with real bullets,
not the blanks Jared had loaded inside the gun.

Dante and I continued forward, guns in hand, silent as the frozen land around us. The smell of fire increased as we neared,
smoke
appearing above the tree line.

Dante
inclined his head to the side. I followed him stealthily into the woods. We crept up to a small log cabin. Smoke heaved from a rooftop chimney. Two four-wheelers were parked out front with oversized camouflage duffel bags strapped to the back.

Dante crouc
hed on the ground, eyes on the cabin. I squatted beside him.

“I thought you said this place would be deserted?” I whispered.

He scratched the stubble that had grown over his chin. “Yeah, well, I didn't think these suckers would be dumb enough to come back.
”

Speaking of dumb ideas, maybe it would have been best to turn around and locate more hospitable lodging. I whispered this thought to Dante
,
who answered in his everyday speaking voice.

“Not a chance. We've tracked down a couple of bloodsucking killers. T
wo of them managed to escape the last time I was here. I won't let them get away again.”

I licked my chapped lips, which was a mistake. They stung and cracked the moment they dried.

Since leaving Girdwood, there were two items Dante had failed to grasp or
was blindly ignoring. One: we, too, fell under the category of bloodsuckers
. T
wo: we weren't on a mission
;
we were on the run.

One look at Dante's clenched jaw was enough to tell me we were going in. Stubborn ass. His way or the highway. One of the many re
asons I knew my place was with the level-headed, actually listened, and gave a crap about me Fane Donado.

I exhaled. “What's the plan? Want me to knock on the door and say I'm lost?” My blood might still have some toxin in it, though I had passed the suppo
sed month-long expiration date.

Dante sniffed. “Even those dummies aren't that dumb—I already pulled something similar on them.”

It was my turn to snort. “Did they take a bite out of you?”

“The two that did aren't around any longer. Unfortunately, their f
riends fled. I tried tracking them through the woods, but they had a head start. I even came back a couple times, but there were never any signs that they'd returned. Until now.” Dante's teeth gleamed white when he grinned.