Zach almost overlooked the location of the missing hiker in the swirling snow, but a yellow tarp waved like a garish flag and he cut the motor. Damn, she’s almost completely buried. He strapped on his crampons and grabbed his shovel. He didn’t have much time. The scents in the wind told him the Ice Demons hadn’t started to really play yet, but they were close, and he might lose the human in the fallout.
Zach knelt in the snow and attacked the ice around the tent. He didn’t have to dig long and satisfied surprise zinged through him. Well now, this little ice princess has some skill. She’d dug out a shelter in the snow, big enough for her to create cocoon of warmth to survive the night. Except the air within her little hideaway almost matched the subzero temperature outside. Where was her stove?
He leaned in through the entrance he’d made and unzipped the tent. She lay like a ceremonial mummy with only her face exposed to the air. Long gold lashes fanned her cheeks beneath arching gold brows. A straight nose pointed to full lips, quirking upwards at their corners. Spangles of snowflakes glittered on her skin and her lips moved as if she spoke to someone just out of hearing.
I have to get her warmed up. The snowflakes didn’t melt against her skin and though she whispered, her words sounded weak and slurred. I’m going to lose her.
Ignoring the worry churning in his gut, Zach checked her pulse and the woman jerked a little. Thank Freya she still has life in her. He unzipped her bag and nodded with approval. She’d dressed for the cold and seemed to have all the gear she needed, but why hadn’t she used her stove? He spied a little Christmas tree set up in one corner and shook his head. Odd way she had to celebrate.
“Linus, wait.”
Zach glanced at the woman and his heart lurched with the agony wreathing her features. “Please, Linus, wait for me. Don’t go.”
Sweet Goddess, he’d never heard such pain in his long life. Was this woman out here to suicide? Not on his watch, dammit. Zach reached into his pack and brought out the heat packs, breaking up the little crystals to generate heat.
“Come on, princess, it’s time to come back to this world.” He pulled out his phone to make sure he had the woman’s name. “Ms. Sinclair. Can you hear me?”
She gasped and opened her eyes, gray eyes like the cliffs of andesite in the spring melt. Their beauty stopped him a moment before she squinted against the light of his headlamp.
“Ms. Sinclair, my name is Zach Snow. I’m here to take you back to the resort.”
“No, don’t want to wake up. Just want to sleep. Linus, come back.”
She turned her head away and tried to burrow back into her sleeping bag, but Zach grasped her shoulders and held her flat against the ground. “Ms. Sinclair, you’re nearly frozen through and we need to get you warm. I’m going to add some heat packs to your bag. They aren’t very large, but they’ll generate enough heat to keep you warm until I can get you off the mountain.”
She shook her head and moaned, but she didn’t say anything coherent. Zach cursed. It sounded like she wouldn’t fight for herself, so he’d have to do the fighting for her. He didn’t know who Linus was, but Zach wanted to smack him for driving a woman this lovely to choose death.
The heat packs steamed lightly in the cold air and he tossed them in her bag then zipped it up and tightened the drawstrings around her face. She moaned again and tears leaked from her eyes, painting iridescent trails across her pale cheeks. Her sorrow cut him, but he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. He didn’t have time to take all her gear with her down the mountain. He pulled out his GPS and marked the spot. Waiting for the little unit to connect with the satellite usually didn’t bother him, but a low rumble echoed in his breastbone and the ground shook a little.
Ninth Hell, the Blizzard & Fall Party. Zach left the woman for a moment to duck out into the snow and sniff the air. He listened hard as he inhaled the scents of the storm. The snow swirled in great plumes of white and energy crackled near the top of Mt. Rainier. The Ice Demons poised at the edge of sending an avalanche down the slopes.
“Fuck.” He’d just run out of time.
Zach ducked back into the snow cave and glanced at the GPS. It pinged happily, noting their position and Zach made sure to save the reading so he could find her gear later. At the moment, he had to get her out of the path of the snow flow.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, but it’s time to go.” He’d never get her all the way down to the Lodge ahead of the avalanche. The only place close and marginally comfortable was his own personal ice cave. He’d never taken anyone there, not even Greta, but tonight he didn’t have a choice.
“I hope you like crystalline décor.” He hauled Ms. Sinclair’s dead weight out of the shelter and leaned her against the snowmobile, making sure she wouldn’t slip down the slope. He darted back for their packs and zipped up the tent, sealing the little tree inside.
Using his rope, he strapped the two packs together on the back of the machine then picked up Ms. Sinclair and leaned her against his chest as he straddled their ride. She fit perfectly, even swaddled in her bag.
“Hold on, princess. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” He started the snowmobile and the purring engine rumbled beneath him.
No, that’s not the engine. He sniffed the air again and tried to ignore the scent of Irish cream suffusing his nose from the woman in his arms. Damn, she was drinking out here? He sniffed harder and his gut sank. The rumble shook them again and he swore. An avalanche had been set off.
“We gotta move. Now!”
He revved the engine and they shot forward into the swirling snow higher onto the mountain. They’d be safe at his cave, but they had to reach the saddle between Steamboat Prow and Mt. Rainier’s summit before the Ice Demon celebration hit full swing. Zach gritted his teeth and gunned the snowmobile, pushing the engine hard against the combined weight of his passenger and their gear.
Just a few more yards…
The rumble became a roar as they reached the edge of the saddle. The struts of the snowmobile flattened out a moment before a wall of snow and ice exploded down the slope beside them. Swirling white death seethed and churned over the spot where Ms. Sinclair had been camped. He tightened his arms around her and blew out a relieved breath. I hope she doesn’t need her tent until spring. He shook his head and nosed the snowmobile over the other side of Steamboat Prow.
Zach picked his way carefully along the open white spaces until he reached an overhang of rock just large enough to shelter the snowmobile from additional avalanches. From the outside, the space appeared no larger than the machine. He waved his hand and whispered a few words from his first language, and the entrance to his ice cave glowed with blue welcome against the dark snow.
Zach swung his leg over the machine and carried Ms. Sinclair into his home. She moaned and struggled, more color returning to her cheeks. Zach’s gut unclenched as he laid her on the bed in the back of the cave out of the wind.
“Just sit tight, princess. I’m going out for the gear and to seal the door.”
“No…”
“Be back in a few.”
Zach loosened the rope and threw their packs into the cave before sliding the large ice sheet across the opening. The wind stopped and the little flakes of snow settled to the floor like sparkling confetti. He waved his hand again and the mage lights flickered into a cool blue glow. Turquoise and teal shadows filled the spaces behind the bed and writing desk, but left the brilliant red sleeping bag untouched.
The crimson fabric contrasted in his normally cool color world. Everything in his ice cave consisted of blues and greens with a smattering of white and grays. Even the small pine he’d cut and decorated with ice ornaments didn’t hold the brilliance of the red and yellow gear Ms. Sinclair brought.
Zach dragged his pack to the table while Ms. Sinclair struggled in her bag, and pulled out his radio. He called in to the Lodge to let them know he’d recovered the missing guest, but couldn’t come down until the storm abated. When the radio operator asked where they’d be, he gave the location for a Forest Service cabin off Paradise Park trail.
With his call concluded, he dragged his stove out of his pack and lit it. The comforting low roar promised safety and life, though as an Ice Demon, he had to be doubly respectful of the little blue flames. The fire element dismantled all the magic surrounding his species and not even his soul could survive death by burning. Zach shot a glance over at his guest and recognized the signs of coming around. Ms. Sinclair had the heat from the heat packs, but they’d eventually cool and she’d be back at square one. He focused on setting up some hot soup and tea to warm her from the inside out.
She moaned again and he returned to check on her. Color bloomed in her cheeks and wisps of golden blond hair escaped the edges of the sleeping bag around her face. He loosened the draw cord and freed her head. More golden hair spilled out from the plait of a loose braid and he resisted the urge to run his fingers through it.
He suspected it would be soft and smooth, a thick mane carrying warmth. The scents of lilies and Irish cream rolled past his nose as he carefully unzipped her bag to check her hands. He didn’t know how long she’d been out in the weather and the threat of frostbite tightened his gut even as he slowed his motions.
Woolen fingerless gloves covered her delicate hands and the pads on her fingers glowed pink with blood flow. They remained chilled, but no black tinged the skin. He chaffed them gently with his own fingers, surprised to find calluses on the tips. Rock climber? He couldn’t see the muscles of her body, but she carried no extra fat on her frame.
He tucked her hands back into the bag and strode to the table to pour out hot water in a metal to-go mug before setting a new pot to boil for soup on the stove. He added a peppermint tea bag, hissing as the steam burned his fingers, and brought it to her.
“Ms. Sinclair, I have some hot tea for you. It will help you warm up.”
“No, I don’t want tea.”
“Just hold this for me while I get a chair.” He handed her the mug, the metal exterior warm to the touch. She took the mug reflexively as she frowned.
“Chair?”
“Yeah. So I can sit with you.”
She turned her head to take in the room beyond him and the bed. “Where am I?”
“This is my place. I didn’t have time to get you down the mountain to the Lodge tonight.” Zach dragged over one of his two wooden chairs he’d gotten from an Austrian woodcarver in the early 1920s and sat beside the bed. “I’ll get you there tomorrow after the storm blows through.”
“What? No, I don’t want to go back to the Lodge.” Anger sparked in her expression. “Where’s my tent?”
“Right now, it’s buried under several meters of snow and ice.” Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “I got you out just before the avalanche came down on top of it.”
Her face paled, but she narrowed her gray eyes and her hands closed tight on the travel mug. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Sorry?”
“Why did you pull me out? I was fine where I was.”
“You would’ve been killed.”
“So? That’s not your problem. I was supposed to be there.”
“Yeah, it is my problem.” He sat forward, his hands on his knees. “I’m Search and Rescue. It’s my job to make sure everyone’s safe on the mountain, and you weren’t safe. But you are now. We’ll stay here the night and I’ll get you back to the lodge tomorrow morning.”
“No!” With surprising strength, she threw the travel mug against the far wall, the hot contents splashing with a hiss of steam across the floor. “I don’t want to go back to the Lodge. I wanted to be out on the mountain!”
What the fuck is wrong with her? Zach looked Ms. Lily Sinclair over carefully. If fury represented heat like in the Saturday morning cartoons, she would have been steaming. Holy Freya, she really was trying to kill herself. But why? Her outburst had exhausted whatever strength she’d gathered after her brush with death and she slumped into the blue marbled pillows of his bed.
He tilted his head. “You can always go out and play in the snow tomorrow on Christmas. There will be plenty of fresh powder in the morning.”
Her gaze snapped to his face and she swallowed hard as if he’d said something unsettling. He thought back over his words, but nothing seemed odd.
“No, you don’t understand. I have to go back. I have to see my brother.” She struggled to get out of the bed, but the crimson sleeping bag foiled her attempts to move.
“Look, princess, there’s no one out on the slopes tonight, especially your brother.” Zach rose and picked up the discarded mug before checking on the soup.
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. Why don’t you explain it to me?”
He kept a wary eye on the woman in his bed. He didn’t fear her getting past him. Even without his extra abilities as an Ice Demon, he could have caught her if she made a play for the door. She might accidentally hurt herself in her weakened state and something told him he had to keep her alive.
Yeah, because it’s your job, jackass. But it felt like more than just his job. Something about this woman called to him and made him pay attention. The crystals making up the “hair” on his head vibrated at a frequency equating anticipation. He rubbed the back of his head in irritation and tried to ignore her sweet scent filling the small room of his cave. Damn, she smells good. What is wrong with me?
Rolling his head on his shoulders, he stirred the soup and poured some into a plastic bowl. He had no idea how he’d convince her to eat, but he’d wait a bit and let it cool enough to be palatable. And maybe I can figure out why she’s trying to kill herself.
When he returned to the chair, her mouth was set in a mulish line and she glared at him as if he’d caused all her troubles. “So are you going to explain why you were trying to kill yourself?”
“What?” For one brief moment, guilty panic flashed across her face before anger swallowed it up again. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Hey, that’s the only explanation I can come up with when you leave the Lodge and all your friends to go camping in a blizzard.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“That’s not strictly true.” He stood and set the bowl down on his chair seat then settled on the bed beside her. “From the records, I know your name is Lily Sinclair and you’re a local to Spokane. I know you and three of your friends won tickets to a Christmas retreat at the Paradise Lodge for a few days, and according to your credit card records, you paid extra for your friends to have some special opportunities while at the Lodge.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but he kept an eye on Lily. “Now, why would anyone who did so much for her friends on Christmas want to spend time camping, alone, in a blizzard?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound happy to me. I figure you should be out playing in the snow. It’s Christmas.”
“What did you say?”
Her face had gone white as the blizzard outside and she shrank back from him as if she’d seen a ghost. But that was ridiculous. The ghosts all congregated back at the Lodge with the Hospitality Host, not out here at his place.
“I said you should be playing in the snow because it’s Christmas.”