Prologue

Three Days Ago

Theophilus Hill was starting to annoy the crap out of Lyla.

He’d given her the slip two weeks ago when she tried to corner him on that old ranch in Indiana. He’d managed to evade her last week in a packed nightclub in Los Angeles. He’d even attacked her two nights ago when she tried to cuff him in a bowling alley in Vegas. Being used for target practice with bowling balls by the scumbag you were supposed to turn in was not a thrilling experience.

It didn’t matter how hard she tried—catching Theophilus was like catching wind. Usually, she enjoyed tracking down and turning in criminals like him, but this guy had slipped through her grip one too many times. Lyla was running out of energy and patience. And she’d soon be out of money as well, considering her flight expenses over the past couple of weeks.

“Dang it,” she muttered with a sigh as a light shudder traveled through the plane. More turbulence. She drew her gaze away from the window, her attention shifting from the clouds outside to the wrinkled sheet of paper in her hand. “You’re going to put me in debt pretty soon.”

The man she was after scowled back at her from the paper, and she fought the urge to crumple it again. She’d seen it—seen him —enough times to know exactly what he looked like: dark hair, cold, black eyes, dark beard. There wasn’t much to see of him in the photo—whoever had managed to take it either had shaky hands or a bad camera—but his features were etched in her memory. With his broad shoulders and massive arms, Theophilus was a tank. How he’d managed to evade the law and Lyla for so long was beyond her.

But it was only a matter of time before she slapped handcuffs on him and dragged him to the authorities. She’d gotten wind that he was headed to Chicago, and so she’d booked a flight from Vegas herself. Hopefully, this time, she would get him. This time, he wouldn’t get away.

She dug into her coat pocket, withdrawing an energy bar, and bit into it. She’d barely gotten any sleep in the last couple of days. Hard to catch any z’s with an alleged mass murderer fleeing across the country.

Alleged , Lyla thought with a scoff.

Theophilus was guilty, alright. To be fair, with a name like that, Lyla was willing to believe any and all charges leveled against the man. But she knew the facts. Hill was wanted for the murder of four police officers as well as thirty geriatrics in a retirement home. Word had it that the senior citizens had been having some good old Friday night fun until he walked in and then…

Bingo.

The authorities had no idea how he did it, but they’d found claw and bite marks on all the bodies as if some wild creature had attacked them. If Hill’s prints hadn’t been discovered at the crime scenes, no one would have figured he had anything to do with the murders.

Except Lyla Jensen, world-renowned bounty hunter.

Okay, world-renowned was a bit of a stretch. Barely anyone knew who she was these days. It was part of the job. She’d only had it for six years, but she was pretty damn good at what she did, which was why the fact that Theophilus constantly evaded her made him such a pain in the—

“Theophilus Hill?” said a voice, startling her back to reality.

Instinctively, Lyla reached under her army-green coat for the pair of handcuffs strapped to her hip but relaxed as her gaze settled on the passenger next to her. The man shot her a somewhat puzzled look. He seemed much younger than she was, no doubt in his early thirties. Cute, but not nearly her type.

She glanced past him, sweeping her gaze around at the other passengers. The cabin was mostly quiet, although she could hear a few grunts and murmurs from the occupants of business class. Men in suits and women who looked like they’d rather be elsewhere. Not many people seemed particularly thrilled about their flight to Chicago. It was the second to the last week in November. If she had to guess, most of them were traveling for the holidays.

She, however, was on the job.

The man pointed at the paper in her hand. “Is that Theophilus Hill?”

Lyla nodded, brushing a strand of curly hair out of her face. “You’ve heard of him?”

“Who hasn’t at this point?” He shook his head with a scoff. “I hope they catch him soon. Who knows where he’ll strike next.”

“Well, I’m going after him,” she blurted out, then realized she probably shouldn’t have.

His eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened. “You’re a cop?”

“No. I’m a bounty hunter.”

“Oh, I heard they’re offering a reward for whoever brings him in. What is it, ten grand?”

“Thirty.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

Lyla shrugged. “That’s the least of my concerns. I don’t really do it for the pay,” she admitted.

He frowned, looking a little impressed. “So, what made you become a bounty hunter?”

“I like the thrill of the chase.”

That was only partly true. The other part was that she’d been hunting criminals ever since she lost her old job six years ago. The story was almost as amusing as it was embarrassing. She’d gotten word one day that the finance company she worked at was declaring bankruptcy. And the culprit? None other than her ex-husband, Greg, who’d already packed his things, cleared out their apartment and was now on the run from the law.

Betrayed, heartbroken, and downright pissed, Lyla had gone after the bastard. Within a couple of weeks, she’d traced Greg to a cheap hotel in Boston where he’d been laying low with some busty redhead. She’d turned him into the authorities, but not before she delivered a few well-deserved kicks where the sun don’t shine.

Two months later, she’d gotten into bounty hunting. She’d been thirty-eight at the time, older than the typical bounty hunter but just as capable, if not more. Even now, at forty-four, she’d put dozens of criminals behind steel bars where they belonged.

The man next to her nodded slowly. “Okay. So you are like a cop, you know, hunting criminals and all that.”

“Well, I do carry handcuffs around,” she mused.

“That’s kinda hot.”

She shot him a sharp look, and he fell silent.

“I’m not a cop,” she told him. “I hunt people the cops can’t find.”

“Like Theophilus Hill.”

“Among others.” When she first started bounty hunting, she’d gone after human criminals—men and women wanted for various atrocities. Over the years, however, her targets had changed. The way Lyla saw it, it had been inevitable in her line of work. Until a couple of years ago, she hadn’t even considered the possibility that supernatural beings not only existed but were living among humans.

These days, she went after vampires, elves, and even shifters. Lyla didn’t have a problem with the supernatural per se—in fact, she’d made a few friends in the past couple of years who were fae—but that didn’t make them harmless, especially when they hurt innocent humans.

Like Theophilus Hill, for example.

Lyla still wasn’t certain what kind of supernatural he was, most likely a shifter or a vampire. Whatever he was, she would find out before long.

Ever since she’d started hunting supernatural criminals, she’d upgraded her equipment, using titanium handcuffs, which they could easily escape. She’d also begun carrying a hunting knife for self-defense, but she wasn’t able to board the plane with anything but her handcuffs and energy bars.

Then again, it didn’t really matter. She could get new knives in Chicago. Besides, Lyla was hoping she wouldn’t need to apply too much force when arresting Hill. The man was wanted dead or alive, but she had every intention of bringing him in with his head still attached to his shoulders.

Another light tremor traveled through the plane. Lyla crumpled the paper in her hand and shoved it into her coat pocket with a groan. “Why’s this flight taking so long? Where are we, anyway?”

“We should be flying over Nebraska right about now,” the passenger next to her replied.

She lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“The pilot mentioned it a short while ago,” he explained.

“Oh. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You do seem preoccupied. It’s Theophilus, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Well, I hope you catch him and stop him,” the guy said. “I’m going to see my grandmother in Chicago. I’d hate to hear someday that some wacko murdered her.”

Lyla couldn’t help but notice and appreciate the fact that he hadn’t questioned her bounty-hunting skills. It wasn’t uncommon for most people to underestimate her, and as much as it irked her, she could see why. She was short, and at barely a hundred and fifty pounds, she hardly looked like a threat. It had taken a while for Theophilus Hill to take her seriously.

The way she saw it, it was somewhat to her advantage. What dangerous criminal would suspect they might end up getting handcuffed by some pretty, harmless-looking woman in her forties? Even Greg had underestimated her, and he was still serving time, the bastard.

The trajectory of her life had been altered drastically after Greg took off and left her broke and jobless. Six years had gone by since then, and, in truth, Lyla had no idea where she was headed. Bounty hunting was all she knew now, all she did. She didn’t have a regular life anymore, not like the other people on the plane.

Now and then, she’d found herself wondering what her life would have been like if the past six years hadn’t happened if Greg hadn’t been such an asshole. They’d still be married, maybe even with a kid or two. These days, Lyla lived a mostly solitary life. No kids. No lover.

It didn’t seem like things would be looking up anytime soon. But, hey, at least she had titanium handcuffs.

She reached into her pocket for another protein bar just as another shudder rocked the plane. A disgruntled-looking flight attendant walked past her seat, followed closely by a man with a blond buzz cut and a nose ring.

“How much longer is this flight going to take?” she grumbled.

The man next to her tapped his chin. “We should be touching down in less than an hour.”

“Great, because I want to remain in this seat for the next hour.” Rolling her eyes, Lyla unbuckled her seatbelt and rose to her feet. “I need to use the bathroom.”

What you need is sleep , said a voice in the back of her mind, but she dismissed it instantly. She’d get some rest once Theophilus Hill got what was coming to him.

She turned into the aisle, heading toward the back of the cabin…and froze in her tracks.

“ You ,” she snarled.

The man she was glaring at had on a dark suit that complemented his even darker beard. He was big, almost too big for his seat. A chill traveled through Lyla’s body, filling her with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She’d found him!

She reached underneath her coat for her handcuffs. There was nowhere for Hill to escape. She’d slap the cuffs on him and…

Wait a minute. “You’re not…you’re not him.”

The man she’d been about to arrest blinked at her; his gaze traveled to the gleaming handcuffs, returning to her face in an instant.

“What in blazes is going on?” he demanded crossly.

Lyla felt the heat rise into her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sir. It’s just a misunderstanding. I thought you were—”

Before she could get the rest of the words out of her mouth, a violent shudder rocked the plane, knocking Lyla off balance. She lurched forward, landing with a grunt on the man’s lap.

“Hey!” he protested.

But Lyla wasn’t even paying much attention to him anymore. Gaps of surprise traveled in waves across the cabin, and she knew exactly why. They hadn’t just hit a patch of turbulence. Something was wrong with the plane.

“What the hell just happened?” a passenger yelled, echoing her thoughts.

She gripped the nearest armrest she could find. Around her, other passengers were doing the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a woman in a gray shirt rising to her feet, a pink fanny pack strapped to her waist.

“I’m a nurse!” the woman yelled to someone Lyla couldn’t see.

A few seconds of chaos passed—or was it minutes—and then another tremor nearly knocked her back into the aisle.

“We’ve lost our wings!” someone cried.

“Oh, God, we’re all going to die!”

And Lyla did not doubt that one bit. Quicker than she could blink, the plane dipped, and it dawned on her that they were nosediving toward Earth. Her heart slamming into her throat, she dared to glance away from the panicking passengers and out the window. The sky was almost as blue as it had been minutes ago. And the clouds…

No, those white shapes creeping into her line of sight weren’t clouds. Lyla’s breath caught in her throat as realization dawned on her.

What in the world…?

They were mountains.

Flames streaked past the window, and a loud beeping filled her ears, drawing her attention back to the cabin. They were still going down, picking up speed. Lyla’s grip tightened on the armrest. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to shake the gnawing realization that the trajectory of her life, just like the plane, was about to come to a sudden, violent end.