Stakeout (Aurora Sky (16 page)

“You can wait in the Jeep while I check it
out.”

“No way!” I said. “How do I know you’re not
going to break in and kill Buck while I’m not looking?”

Dante slouched over the steering wheel.
“Well, then you’re going to have to come with me, because I’m not
doing this stakeout from the sidelines. I want a front row
view.”

My jaw clenched. I couldn’t imagine what it
must have been like for Aurora to be tossed into her first mission
with this guy. I sighed. “Do you have an extra pair of those
goggles?”

Dante grinned. “Nope, you’ll just have to
grab onto me and hold on tight.”

“Or you could let me wear them.”

“I don’t think so. You should have brought
your own.”

Yeah, cause I really knew to pack infrared
goggles.

The inside of the Jeep suddenly lit up when a
set of headlights crested the hill. Dante and I went silent as the
lights momentarily blinded us. The inside of the Jeep faded back to
dark when the lights veered to the side and headed down Buck’s
driveway.

“Well, well. Bucky has a visitor,” Dante
said. “I’m checking it out.” He reached across me, arm brushing my
leg as he opened the glove compartment. I squinted in the dark to
see what weapon he’d stashed in there this time, but he pulled out
a flashlight. An instant later, Dante exited the car, right after
he glanced backwards and said, “Tommy, stay.”

I cursed under my breath as I scrambled out.
The cold bit into me. So yeah, Fairbanks was noticeably frigid
compared to Anchorage—the kind of cold that made my lungs feel like
they were going to freeze solid and turn into an icicle lodged
inside my throat.

Luckily, I’d put on a pair of combat boots
for the trip north. Not-so-luckily, I had on a black tulle skirt;
the one I called my evil ballerina skirt. I’d worn thick tights
beneath it in an attempt at practicality.

I might as well have been naked for all the
good my clothes did me. I felt like Eve wearing the fig leaf
between her legs in the Garden of Freezing.

When I came around the Jeep, Dante had the
trunk open, his hands shuffling through a duffel bag. He pulled out
a ski jacket and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. Good idea. I
pulled my own duffel toward me. The metal zipper was as cold as ice
crystals. My fingers barely managed to grip the zipper, numb as
they were. Good thing I’d packed my dark purple velvet coat on top.
It wasn’t a ski jacket, but it covered my ass. After rummaging
around the sides of the bag, I found my arm warmers by touch and
pulled those on, too.

There was a loud “clunk” as Dante moved a
duffel bag to the edge of the trunk. He set the flashlight down and
began securing his head strap. He looked like a death row criminal
headed for the electric chair. Helmet and chin strap secure, he
screwed on the goggles. Once he had everything strapped and screwed
in, he pulled on a pair of thick winter gloves.

What little light the flashlight provided
bounced off Dante’s teeth when he turned and smiled. “It’s go
time.”

He closed the trunk and started walking down
the road, away from Buck’s cabin. I reached out for his arm. “Wait,
where are you going?”

“You don’t think we’re just going to waltz up
the driveway, do you? That would be too obvious.” Dante continued
walking. I had to hurry to keep pace. No way was I holding onto him
like an invalid, but I had to keep close—as in body brushing and
touching close—in order to stick with him.

Dante paused on the road and turned to face
the woods. “We’ll go through here, arc around his cabin, and come
around through the back.”

Between the night-darkened willow trees and
thick blanket of snow, the world looked like it had turned black
and white.

Dante took his first step off the road, and I
quickly followed.

“Crap!” I said.

“What?” Dante asked, whipping his head
around.

“Snow just went down my boot.”

“At least it won’t melt,” Dante said. “Too
cold.”

Happy thought.

We trudged forward, Dante leading the way.
The snow slowed him down despite his fancy-pants goggles. When he
stopped suddenly I bumped into him Dante turned around. I leaned
back instinctively to avoid getting knocked in the face by his
scopes. The silly things tilted and moved as Dante looked me up and
down.

“Nice coat. You going to prom later
tonight?”

“Nice headgear. How’s that retainer working
out for you?” I returned.

The contraption shook over Dante’s face when
he chuckled. “I like you, Harper. You’re like the little sister I
never had.”

Little sister? Enough with the flattery. Boy,
did Dante make me feel like a wanted woman. Didn’t matter. He was
every bit like an idiotic older brother I’d love to smack a time or
two. I stuck my tongue out at him then smiled knowing he could see
me through his goggles.

Dante smiled back. At least I thought he did.
It was hard to tell in the dark.

“Let’s go, Minnie Mouse.”

Jared hadn’t been far off. Dante was like a
bulky, bull-headed moose crashing through the woods, and I was the
shivering mouse scampering after him.

Dante was right about the snow not melting in
my boot, but it made my toes and calves extra cold and
uncomfortable. And it was like getting sand in your shoe at the
beach; only these particles stung, and I sure as shit wasn’t
frolicking across some god damn tropical beach.

Dante stepped over a fallen tree. I followed
immediately behind. My boot sunk into the snow and more of the
frozen stuff filled my boot.

Screw this! I was an informant. In-for-mant!
I did parties, not field work.

Before I could bitch, Dante said, “We’ve
passed his cabin, now all we need to do is circle around and come
in from behind.”

No shit we’d passed his cabin. I could see
the warm glow in the windows casting an alluring light over the
neighboring trees like an invitation. What I couldn’t see were all
the roots, rocks, stumps, and branches standing between me and the
beckoning light. Even if we had daylight, it would be hard to walk
through a virtual land mine hidden beneath snow.

I bumped into Dante several times, but I
didn’t care. I doubted he did, either. He kept plowing forward.
Once we were on the final approach, I didn’t have to rely on him
anymore.

The smell of a wood fire filtered past my
frozen nose hairs.

Dante unscrewed his goggles and held them out
to me.

“What do you want me to do with those?”

“Hold them for me.”

I scowled. “Hold them yourself. I am not your
pack mule.”

A smile was Dante’s only answer. He placed
his gloved fingers on the exterior of the cabin and walked to one
of the cabin’s four corners. He rounded the sharp edge. I
followed.

Dante slowed as he neared the first window
and carefully looked inside. “No visual from here,” he said,
sounding disappointed. He approached the second window, once more
looking inside. “This one’s no good, either. We’ll have to try from
the front of the house.”

My heart lurched. I wasn’t afraid of Buck so
much as getting caught lurking in the shadows. This was Fairbanks.
Trespassing could get us shot no matter who the occupant.

Still, I was no sissy, and I wasn’t about to
give Dante any reason to believe I was. I placed two fingers over
my lips when he glanced back at me. He nodded and we crept
forward.

At the next corner, Dante crouched and
squat-walked his way to the front of the cabin.

Screw it. I was short, but not that short. I
bent my knees and hunched along the cabin’s outer wall.

A square of light lit up the snow several
feet from the front window. Dante inched along the wall until his
body filled the dark shadow between the window and light it
projected. He straightened ever so slowly and peered inside.

Heaven help us if Buck saw Dante’s head
appear in the window. He was more likely to blow it off than bite
him. We were in no man’s land. Alaska. The farther north a person
went, the wilder the inhabitants. Vampires weren’t half as scary as
residents of the state.

Dante stared for a long time. At least his
head was still intact.

“Who’s the girl?”

I nestled in beside Dante and looked inside.
Luckily, the window was to the right of the living room where Buck
sat on a beat-up couch, his arm around a young woman with long
blond hair, their backs to us. A hockey game played on the TV.

“That’s Buck’s girlfriend,” I said.

Dante clucked his tongue. “She could be dead
by morning if we don’t do something.”

I rolled my eyes. “Buck wouldn’t hurt Nicole.
He’s totally crazy about her.”

“Right, killer crazy.”

“You don’t know a thing about vampires, do
you?” I asked.

“I know how to kill them.” Dante puffed up
his chest.

“As though I could forget.” If only he could
hear the sigh inside of me.

Flashes of light from the TV hit the walls in
quick succession. “Well, now that we know what he’s up to can we
please go somewhere to unthaw?” I asked.

Dante’s shoulders sagged. “I guess so.”

I didn’t mind wading through snow mounds on
the way back knowing we were headed for the car and comfort.

I hopped inside the Jeep while Dante removed
his headgear. As soon as he got in front his dog stood up and
wagged his tail.

“Good boy, Tommy,” Dante said warmly. “Let’s
go get warm.”

“Where are we staying?” I asked.

“Got a cabin in the woods. Don’t be expecting
the Ritz. There isn’t any running water or electricity.”

“Of course not,” I grumbled. Ritz? Seriously?
It wasn’t even a Motel 6. Cabin in the woods. “This sucks,” I
said.

Dante nodded. “I know. We were right outside
a vamp house and didn’t even get to kill anything. When’s Melcher
going to stop dicking me around and put me on active duty?”

“Maybe when you begin acting responsibly,” I
suggested.

“Responsibly,” Dante repeated as though it
were the most offensive word in the English language. “This isn’t
the army.”

Thank goodness. Give me Gothic wench over
military green and brown any day of the week. Hell, no!

We left Duck Pond Lane and hit the main
road.

“There anything to eat in this cabin?” I
asked Dante.

Dante leaned back in his seat and drove one
handed. “The cupboards are stocked. I hope you like Spam.”

I straightened my shoulders. “I’ll eat
anything, especially if it comes out of a can.”

Dante slid three feet before stopping at a
red light. A smile lurched over his lips like a kid who’d just
taken his turn down the slip and slide.

Trying to memorize the street names as Dante
zipped down the icy roads was futile through the thick-as-fog ice
mist. It made me uneasy. I had no idea where I was. No idea where
we were going. No visibility. My internal compass had been thrown
off its axis.

I was entirely in Dante’s hands.

Being a passenger wasn’t really my thing.

Dante turned off the main road down a dirt
one. The cabins where spaced out and hidden down narrow wooded
lanes. Dante slowed as he approached an opening in the trees. His
headlights lit up a road that led deeper in. At least I thought it
was a road. All I could see was a white, snowy path winding through
the trees.

“I’m gonna have to gun it,” Dante said.

Good thing he drove a Jeep. My car wouldn’t
make it three feet through this snow.

Dante didn’t bother backing up for a running
start. He slammed his foot on the gas. The Jeep gave a jolt right
before we plowed into the powder. The loose seat belts in back
rattled, and the shell of the ceiling creaked, but the rig managed
to bulldoze its way through the white blockade.

I found myself crossing my fingers that we’d
make it all the way to the cabin.

When the Jeep began to slow, Dante pumped the
gas pedal. We blazed through, curved to the right, straightened
out, and fishtailed around the next right, took a wide left, and
headed for the small dark cabin that appeared in the Jeep’s high
beams.

Dante slapped the steering wheel when he came
to a stop. “Made it!” He threw his door open and jumped out,
quickly opening the back door for his dog to do the same.

Dante had me hold the flashlight while he
loaded the duffels, including mine, over his shoulders. Much
better. Let Dante be the pack mule.

I aimed the flashlight at the front door.
Dante turned the knob and pushed it open.

“You don’t lock it?” I asked.

“Only thing that would want to break into
here are the bears, and they’re hibernating,” Dante answered.

Bears were smart.

The dog followed us inside, nails clicking
over the hardwood floor. Dante dumped our bags on the ground and
tromped over to a small table. He unscrewed the lid off a glass
jar, dumped out a box of matches, and struck one. It flamed to life
dramatically, lighting his fingers in its glow. Dante lit a gas
lamp hanging over the table then shook the match until the wind
swallowed the flame.

The gas lamp took over. Not much else was
needed to light up such a small cabin. There were no bedrooms, no
bathroom, nothing to section off the dining room from the kitchen
or the bed and the cot in the cabin’s two far corners. Forget the
living room. No one had bothered bringing in a rocking chair, let
alone a couch.

And I thought cabins were supposed to be
cozy.

Dante looked around and nodded once,
solemnly. “The cleaners did a good job.”

By cleaners, I wish he meant the kind of
merry maids who dusted fixtures and vacuumed floors, not Melcher’s
crew who mopped up blood and disposed of dead bodies.

Aurora had confided in me about Dante’s
interrogation turned execution of a human boy responsible for an
informant’s death. The boy had died in this cabin. No, I definitely
didn’t see sipping hot chocolate by the fire inside the death
shed.