Chapter One

Present Day

Oh, Look, it’s Theophilus Hill…Running Down the Hill

There were many items on Lyla’s ten-page bucket list. Getting marooned on a snowy mountain was not one of them.

If she’d had a death wish, she would’ve been gone a long time ago, like the time arsonist Danny Reynolds tried to turn her into barbecued roadkill. Or when Sandy Mason tried to strangle her with her own handcuffs. Death was always a possibility when you were a bounty hunter. Only Lyla never actually went looking for it.

Well, technically, she did , considering that the criminals she went after always seemed to lack a moral code. Being a bounty hunter meant death was always around the corner. But this was different. She hadn’t seen this coming. No one could have.

Snap!

The thin branch she’d been holding on to suddenly gave way under her weight, and she landed hard on her back with a groan. Good thing there was snow everywhere. Otherwise, by now, she would’ve landed in the ER.

Assuming anyone found her, that is.

“Oh, man. I think I’m getting too old for this.”

Another groan sent a plume of condensation from her lips as she sat up, a slight ache in the small of her back. The crooked, snow-covered branch lay in her lap. Perfect . She should be able to get a small fire going tonight with a spark from a rock and her handcuffs.

A wry smile tugged at her lips. She might be stranded, and she might not have found the man she’d been hunting, but at least the cuffs at her hip weren’t going to waste. They’d keep her alive for the next few weeks. Or days. Depending on whether she died of the cold or hunger first.

Lyla pulled herself to her feet, using the branch as a support. Even with her coat on, the cold seeped into her skin, sending a shiver through her body. With a sigh, she glanced around at her surroundings. She stood ankle-deep in the snow in the middle of a small wood of tall, snow-covered trees all growing toward the east of her position. Rays of soft, golden light streaked through the treetops, beyond which she could make out the fiery orange hue that had taken over the sky as the sun set in the distance.

Besides her own labored breathing and the crunch of snow under her boots, as she continued to head downhill, the wood was silent. Somehow, that was a lot more unsettling than if there had been creatures moving around nearby.

Beyond the wood, there was nothing but snow and more woods. At least as far as her eyes could see. It was all they’d registered the past three days she’d spent trudging down this damn mountain—or was it four? She’d lost her watch, along with many other belongings, when the plane fell out of the sky and crashed on the mountain.

A gust of cold wind brushed against her cheeks like a pair of icy hands. Lyla cursed under her breath.

“Is it just me, or is this place getting colder by the day?” she muttered.

Not that it was her biggest concern. No, her biggest problem right now was the fact that she was standing in the snow—real, white snow.

As she trudged, she glanced up to see the white flecks descending from the sky. Unless she was somehow mistaken, it was still November. It shouldn’t be snowing right now. It hadn’t been snowing when they left the airport or when they were flying over Nebraska. So why did it look like it had been snowing here for weeks?

Or was it months? Years ? Time had become more and more difficult to pinpoint the longer she remained here.

She continued heading downhill, using the branch as a staff. Hopefully, by nightfall, she’d find someplace to rest till morning. She’d set up a campfire and pray she didn’t freeze to death in her sleep.

“Just how much longer is this going to take?” she heard herself sigh.

Her stomach growled suddenly, and she instinctively reached into her coat pocket, withdrawing a protein bar. Lyla bit her lip. Only two remaining. Besides the bars and a few nuts she’d found along the way, she’d had nothing to eat since the plane went down. She’d settled for a protein bar a day, but at the rate she was going, she’d be out of food in a matter of days.

Hopefully, help will get here before I starve to death, she thought.

But where was here , exactly? Days had passed, and she still hadn’t the faintest clue. Some place in the north, no doubt. Alaska? No, it didn’t seem very likely. If anything, this mountain reminded her of Everest. Only that made absolutely zero sense, considering the plane had been flying above Nebraska moments before it came apart and tumbled out of the sky.

The memory rushed through her mind, almost as violent as the accident itself. How Lyla had managed to make it out in one piece was almost beyond her. She remembered being surrounded by horrified screams as the body of the plane came apart. She’d held on for dear life as the rest of the plane hit a mountain that had appeared out of nowhere, sending several passengers careening out of their seats to their deaths and setting a few unfortunate ones on fire.

She’d crawled out of the wreckage, unable to conceive a single thought that didn’t have to do with her own self-preservation and moved as far away from the crash site as she could before pausing to check for any scratches or injuries she might have incurred. No vital injuries, nothing broken. Just a few cuts and bruises on her limbs, as well as a throbbing headache. An average work experience.

Thanking her stars, she’d done the one thing any sensible person who’d landed on a strange mountain would do: she’d headed downhill. In retrospect, it was a completely rational move. She’d just barely survived a plane crash. The last thing she needed was to wait around for help to come and get her. With her luck, she’d be as frozen as a prehistoric relic by the time the first rescue choppers showed up.

By now, she should have reached the bottom of the mountain or at least gotten pretty close. The problem was that no matter how far she traveled, she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. The mountain stretched as far as her tired eyes could see. Beyond it…well, it didn’t look like there was anything beyond this. Just the mountain.

Where is this place?

It shouldn’t be snowing this much at this time of the year. And she shouldn’t be here, either. None of this made any sense.

Somewhere in the depths of Lyla’s mind, just behind the constant reminder that she was in mortal danger the longer she remained on this mountain, something clicked: It didn’t make sense because it didn’t need to. It didn’t feel normal because, quite frankly, it wasn’t. It was—

“Magic,” she breathed, sending another plume of condensation from her lips. “Fucking hell.”

It was the only explanation that made sense right now. There was no logical explanation for the snow or the mountain because it wasn’t logical. It was magical . That was how they’d gotten here. And if she had to guess, it was why she couldn’t seem to get anywhere. Whatever was happening on this mountain had a bit of hocus-pocus to it.

What’s more, she was pretty sure it had something to do with the man she was after.

From what she’d gathered so far, it was hard to finger Theophilus Hill as a magic user, even if he was a supernatural, but right now, Lyla was willing to believe anything. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the plane had suddenly shuddered just when she believed she’d caught him. If the prickly little voice in the back of her mind was correct, Hill was responsible for the plane crash. He’d realized she was still hot on his trail and somehow sabotaged the flight to evade her.

For a second, she wondered if she was simply grasping at straws, trying to come up with an explanation where there was none. But wasn’t it just like Theophilus to doom an entire plane full of innocent civilians in order to escape justice? The guy had literally murdered thirty golden agers in that retirement home. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time a criminal put innocent people in danger just to evade capture. Theophilus was simply more unhinged, more dangerous.

And she was willing to bet her last two protein bars that he was still alive somewhere on this mountain. Tracking him down remained a priority, second only to her own survival.

“All I want for Christmas,” she sang drily against the cold wind, “is to get the hell off this stupid mountain.”

And Theophilus Hill’s head on a platter.

Her teeth chattered suddenly. She supposed she looked a sight, covered in snow from her hair to her eyebrows and coat. Her thick clothing was barely enough to keep out the cold. She trudged on, gritting her teeth. When she found Theophilus, the bastard was going to wish he’d never bothered those geriatrics. Maybe she’d force him to lick the handcuffs right after she slapped them on his wrists and watch him try to unstick his tongue from the icy metal. A wide grin so warm it nearly quelled the cold tugged at her lips at the thought.

For now, she needed to find some shelter and start a fire.

Her stomach growled again, reminding her that she wasn’t going to survive much longer. Lyla gave herself a mental kick. She should’ve remained at the crash site long enough to gather any supplies she would need. In her defense, it hadn’t occurred to her then that she would be spending several days on this mountain. She’d been too focused on getting away from the plane before something else happened. Now, here she was, slowly wasting away as the days went by.

It was no surprise that her mind was filled with all kinds of thoughts. Thinking was a sort of escape from her reality if she was being truthful with herself. She’d been ruminating for the past couple of days. A part of her couldn’t help wondering if this was part of losing one’s mind. She had been out in the cold for days, not to mention she’d had nothing to fill her belly but some protein bars, nuts, and water from a stream farther up the mountain.

Pretty sure I already lost my damn mind several years ago, she quipped with a smirk.

She gripped the tree branch harder, fighting the urge to lean against a tree for a moment to catch her breath. The woods stretched only a bit farther. Beyond that, she had no idea what to expect. Besides the cold and her rumbling stomach, she hadn’t exactly come across anything deadly, but there was no telling what kind of dangerous creatures lurked on this massive mountain.

Whatever they were, she assured herself, they couldn’t possibly be worse than Hill.

In all her years as a bounty hunter, she’d never come across anyone so full of dangerous surprises. Going after Hill was like playing Russian roulette with an M1 carbine. But as much as she understood the danger of merely trailing the guy, she understood herself better. She wasn’t going to let Hill go. She’d do everything in her power to catch him and turn him into the authorities. It was only a matter of time.

Time she barely had.

Get to safety first , she reminded herself. Then you can hunt him down.

For tonight, she would try to set up camp. Tomorrow, she’d find a way off this mountain.

“That’s the spirit, Lyla,” she muttered.

If there was one thing she’d always been great at, it was solving problems. Whether it meant tracking down supernatural scumbags or making sure she didn’t die of starvation and hypothermia, she had a penchant for fixing problems when they came up. When she thought of it that way, her current situation wasn’t so terrible after all. It was just another problem that needed to be solved.

She had just stepped out of the woods when a dark shape appeared in the corner of her vision. In the split second before she glanced in its direction, Lyla’s heart hammered against her chest. Was it an animal? It looked too large for one unless it was some sort of monster. It had to be a human.

Pausing in her tracks, she turned slightly to face the newcomer. It was a human, alright. Her eyes widened. Could it be someone else from the plane? Whoever they were, they were headed downhill. It was hard to make out much—the person had to be at least fifty feet away, their body covered in snow.

Her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, Lyla broke into a sprint, ignoring the dull ache in her back.

“Hey!” she puffed, nearly tripping over her own feet. “Hey—wait!”

Either the other person couldn’t hear her, or they didn’t care to stop and glance in her direction. They continued running, and so did Lyla, her tree branch clutched in her hands like a lance.

She drew closer…and nearly froze in the snow as the running figure became clearer in her vision. It was a man; that much was obvious now. She couldn’t see his face, and he was still covered in snow, but there was no mistaking that dark hair, those massive arms, those broad shoulders…