Chapter One

Brigid Connor bumped over the snow, huddled in the fur-covered sled that a team of yapping sled dogs pulled through the dark, frozen woods of Alaska. The driver, a silent human who had introduced himself as Andre and then said nothing else, barked commands at them from time to time, but if he'd said another word to Brigid, the driving wind had blown it into the darkness.

Overhead, a glowing green-and-purple aurora borealis lit a clear night sky, dancing over the tips of evergreen trees. The northern lights were more vivid than she'd ever seen before, doubly vivid with vampire vision that turned them so bright she nearly remembered what it felt like to stand in daylight.

She pulled an old pocket watch from the folds of her winter coat. Her husband had bought it for her last birthday, the only timepiece that could withstand the pull of her amnis, the elemental energy that kept her vampire blood moving and connected her to her element.

Brigid's element was fire, but she wasn't very good at using it, and it didn't seem very helpful in a land surrounded by sea and covered with snow, ice, frost, and fog.

It was six in the evening, and the sky was black pitch. Stars sparkled through the lights, and the moon was visible on the horizon, peeking through the dense forests of the Alaskan wilderness. She was traveling to a remote station run by Oleg, a Russian fire vampire whom Brigid now owed several favors.

Oleg wasn't going to be at the station, which was a good thing. Under the archaic territorial rules that governed immortals, the Russian was trespassing. The area Andre's dogs were drawing them toward was the territory of Katya Grigorieva, who was based in Seattle. She ruled the Pacific Northwest with canny intelligence, keen strategic thinking, and the convenient ability to look the other way when she didn't really give a shit.

"So this used to be Oleg's territory?" she tried to ask Andre, but she had no idea if the man heard her. Brigid turned back to face the wind, crouching down so the tearing cold wouldn't lash her.

She was bundled from the tip of her nose to her carefully wrapped feet. Alaska in winter was no joke, and they weren't even in the coldest part of it.

Oleg's station was on the coast, a relatively reachable outpost on the Kenai Peninsula, only a few hours from Anchorage. The scope of the landscape was hard for Brigid to wrap her mind around.

This was "relatively close" to the city. This was "not far." This place, where she hadn't seen a sign of civilization other than a bright red stick coming out of the snow every now and then, was the "accessible" part of Alaska in the wintertime.

Brigid had been born in Ireland, a place where a person could drive across the entire island in the time it had taken them to drive from one city to the next in Alaska. She'd met Oleg's people at the airport the night before, found shelter during the very short day, then taken four-wheel-drive vehicles over frosty roads as far as they could before switching to the dogsled to get to the station.

She glanced at her watch again, guessing they were only about forty minutes away from the destination where she would start her search for the vampire who had stalked her for years.

She gripped the cold metal in her hand and remembered Carwyn giving it to her.

Gold, darling girl. It's the only thing that might keep this old thing running with your energy.

She'd protested that it was too extravagant to have a watch with a casing made entirely of gold, and he'd ignored her. He was old, much older than Brigid, and he'd had time to save money he rarely used.

"Aloha shirts and beer don't cost much, Brigid."

She thought of him constantly. His voice. His touch. The scent of his skin and his blood.

He was furious with her, and she deserved it.

There was a tapping on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Andre pointing at something in the distance.

A moose was tearing bark from a tree, shaking the branches with the force of his bite. She smiled up at Andre and gave him a thumbs-up to indicate she'd seen it.

Moose. Caribou. Birds of surprising variety.

No bears according to the locals. They would all be hibernating.

The world around her was cold and silent save for the barking dogs and the frosty shush of sled tracks on snow. The white blanket that covered the landscape devoured sound whole, leaving Brigid to her thoughts in the cocoon of fur that Andre had thrown around her.

No music. No news programs. No virtual assistant chirping at her.

Brigid was alone with her thoughts, and all she could think was that she missed her husband, her feet were very cold, and she had no idea how, in the vastness of the Alaskan wilderness, she was supposed to find the vampire who had caused so much chaos in her life.

Because she wasn't in Alaska for a holiday or a vacation as her US friends called it. She wasn't there for research. She'd come to the frozen darkness with one goal alone.

She was there to kill Zasha Sokholov.

The dogs raised a hail as they approached a low-slung building that curved along the rise of the hill. It looked like an old Quonset hut save for the snow-covered roof and the height. It appeared to meld into the hill behind it, forming the head of something that looked like a turtle while the tree-covered hill was the shell.

Flickering yellow lights surrounded the compound, and as they approached the guardhouse, Brigid saw the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. There were guards in white clothing stationed along the fence, and a guard tower beyond the gate rose over the trees.

The better to spot a wind vampire.

She'd be waiting for a wind vampire at Oleg's compound. She hoped Tenzin was already on her way, but with that ancient immortal, there was no way of knowing.

You know Zasha.

I know of them.

You know more than that.

Tenzin, wind vampire of old, retired assassin, treasure hunter, and mate of one of Brigid's closest friends was a mystery that few tried to solve. Brigid had no desire to delve into the vampire's past, but the situation had forced her hand.

"Andre!" The guard shouted at the dogsled as they pulled in, and Andre brought the sled to a stop. "You have the Irishwoman?"

Andre said nothing, but Brigid popped her head from the pile of fur and waved.

"I'm Brigid Connor," she said. "Mika said you'd be expecting me."

Mika Arakas was Oleg Sokolov's head of internal security, which mostly meant that when heads needed to be cut off and Oleg didn't want his hands dirty, he pointed at Mika.

"Brigid Connor." The guard squinted. "Your face, Miss Connor."

Brigid peeled off the scarf, which had frozen to her face, and tugged off the hat that was keeping her shaved head warm.

The guard looked at her, then a picture, then back to her. "I like the haircut."

She'd burned off a good chunk of her short black hair months ago and decided to buzz cut all of it. It made for quick evening preparations and frosty ears. "Thanks." She shoved the wool cap back on. "Is Mika here?"

"Oh no." The guard smiled. "Lev will introduce you to the guys." The man had a slight Russian accent, but his manner of speech sounded American.

It was an unusual area. Brigid had called an old friend before she came—one who would deny talking to her if anyone asked—to ask for insight into Oleg and into the politics of the region.

Coastal Alaska was still considered Eastern Russia by most immortals. Which was why technically Katya ruled it, but from what Brigid could tell, it was far more like the American Wild West of old.

Oleg Sokolov had interests. The Eight Immortals who ruled Eastern Asia had interests. The Athabaskan Confederation had the most financial interest and territorial control, but they didn't want to deal with anyone but Natives and mainly ignored human interests completely.

To outsiders, Katya was the vampire in charge.

It seemed to Brigid that the immortals of Alaska paid attention to their own and ignored everyone else. It was a big place, and big places lent themselves to laissez-faire vampire politics.

"Come inside," the guard said. "Let Andre put the dogs away. I'm Emil. Welcome to the fishing camp."

Supposedly the compound in Kenai was Oleg Sokolov's personal fishing retreat, but Brigid had a hard time imagining a fishing camp needed the kind of security that she was seeing.

She climbed out of the sled and gave Andre a polite nod before she grabbed her backpack and headed toward a narrow door set into the wood-sided building that crawled out of the hill. Just as she approached the door, a large vampire barreled out of it, his arms going wide.

"Brigid Connor!"

She blinked. "Are you Lev?"

"Who else could I be?" He walked over and gave her two smacking kisses, one on either cheek. "Forgive me—it's been a long time since we've had visitors."

The man was a giant with a slight Russian accent, a beard that covered half his chest, and brown hair that curled in a riot all over his head like someone had gone a little wild with pruning shears. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt open at the neck, baring his hairy chest nearly to his waist.

"No visitors, huh?" Brigid looked up and blinked. She was pretty sure her eyelashes were frozen. "I can't imagine why."

"I know!" The man's face lit up as he looked around the snow-covered compound. "Can you imagine that? With weather like this? I will never understand my brother."

"Are you…" She frowned. "Is Oleg your brother?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. Big family." He shuffled her into the building as the dogs let out a howling chorus and Andre mushed them away. "Huge family. Our father was a bastard! Cruel old bastard, but he liked siring children." Lev shrugged. "So Zasha is my sister. Sibling." He held up a hand. "When Zasha came to us, they were a girl, so sometimes I slip, but I mean no disrespect."

"No disrespect to Zasha?"

Zasha Sokolov was an immortal who had been tormenting Brigid, her mate, and her friends for years. A fellow fire vampire, they'd fixated on Brigid from a distance, picking off people she cared about, killing humans that Brigid would miss, and generally creating chaos.

"Oh, I don't want to disrespect anyone." Lev guided Brigid through another set of heavy double doors. "There is too much cruelty in the world, isn't there? It's easy to be kind." He turned to her. "Can I take your bag?"

Brigid clutched her backpack tightly. "No."

"Okay, good." Lev nodded. "Good, good. No problem for me. I run Oleg's fishing camp and I keep track of everyone, but I don't want to intrude."

He led her through a small entryway that was stuffed with clothing, muddy boots, and various weather-related accouterments. There were snowshoes hanging on the wall, a few skis propped up in the corner, and lots of dirty towels piled on an old washing machine. The room smelled of dirt, motor oil, and men.

She looked around at the mess. "Is Mika here?"

Mika preferred tailored suits to flannel shirts, and she was having a hard time picturing him in the wilderness.

"Mika?" Lev laughed. "No, but he likes you. I could tell. He called you the little barsuk." Lev chuckled. "That Mika, so funny."

Brigid reminded herself to find out what barsuk meant. "Did Mika tell ya I'm here to… find Zasha?"

Find was good enough. The killing part didn't need to be stated.

"Oh yeah." Lev seemed unconcerned. "Yeah, yeah. I don't blame you for wanting them dead." Lev opened the door to the next room past the muddy entryway. "They're not an easy person to like."

"Zasha?" Brigid frowned. "Yeah, not too likable." She muttered, "Probably a result of the rampant homicidal mania."

Lev nodded sadly. "Zasha gets that from our father."

Brigid didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Zasha Sokholov did not deserve a sad nod from a friendly vampire bear. They were aligned with no one but themself, hungry for power and an unabashed lover of chaos.

Because they were completely unpredictable, most of Zasha's own kin had long ago disowned them. The Sokholov crime syndicate wanted nothing to do with Zasha. It wasn't the murderous tendencies so much, but they didn't want to be associated with someone they couldn't control.

Oleg Sokolov—the least criminal but still morally questionable head of his own clan—had changed his name in an outward attempt to distance himself from both his criminal relatives and Zasha.

Not that Oleg wasn't shady, but Brigid's sources seemed to agree that Oleg's criminal enterprises were no longer as profitable as his legal ones, so he was moving away from the darker corners of the vampire world.

It was the only reason Brigid trusted him enough to ask for help.

Lev led her down a narrow hallway and into a large room that looked like a cross between a cafeteria and a living room. There was a large kitchen along the back wall where two humans were cooking something that smelled like game meat.

On the other side of the room, a massive fireplace dominated one wall. Around it there were at least a dozen humans and vampires. Roughly thirty percent vampires if Brigid guessed the flow of energy correctly, and the rest were human. Visually it was hard to tell them apart.

So much flannel.

"Boys! This is Brigid." Lev clapped her on the shoulder. "She's here to kill Zasha."

There were a few grunts, a couple of nonchalant waves, and a lot of nodding.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Welcome."

"Good luck."

Then everyone returned to what they were doing before she and Lev had walked in.

"Come," Lev told her. "Let me show you to your room."

"Has he asked?"

Lee Whitehorn was tapping on his computer keyboard, which was the position she usually caught him in whenever she video-called.

"Your angry husband?" Lee didn't stop tapping. "Uh… no. I'm pretty sure he knows you're calling me, but he hasn't asked because if he asks he knows I won't lie to him?—"

"Because you refuse to lie."

"Exactly. And if he knows for sure that I'm talking to you, he'll ask me where you are?—"

"Which you would tell him." She rubbed a hand over her freshly washed head and contemplated keeping it shaved to a buzz cut indefinitely. It felt so good.

"Exactly. But then you'd find out that I told him where you were and you'd stop calling me for help."

And Carwyn wouldn't want to leave her stranded without Lee's resources because she'd be less safe. "Got it."

"So where are you?"

"A fishing camp in the back arse of Alaska."

"Huh." He glanced at the camera, which was streamed to the private virtual assistant he'd built for their house and electronic devices. "And how's that?"

"Cold and dark."

"Vampire heaven?"

"No, I prefer dark and warm. Think Jamaica at night." She'd been in Jamaica at night. It was marvelous.

"How's the tablet working?"

Lee, being their own resident computer genius, had taken their old Nocht-compatible mobile devices, hacked them, and inserted his own operating system since he didn't trust anyone, including her old boss, who had created the first vampire-compatible mobile operating system that could be worked entirely by voice command.

Elemental vampires destroyed electronics.

Earth vampires like her husband could handle things longer, but fire vampires like Brigid were especially prone to shorting things out just by touching them. She'd lost multiple mobile phones from keeping them in her pocket too long.

"The tablet is working fine." She watched the screen of the small tablet that was halfway between a mobile phone and a computer. "It survived the dogsledding trip with no damage."

"Seriously?" That had Lee looking up from his typing. "Dogsledding?"

"According to my host, humans 'round here use snowmobiles, but vampires break them, so we go by skis, boat, or dogsled to get around."

"Unless you can fly like some vampires." Lee glanced up again. "Any sign of her?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. By the way, the next time you go to New York to meet with a vampire assassin, turn off your location services, okay?"

"Noted." Brigid retrieved a compact 9mm handgun from her backpack and started taking it apart.

So soothing.

"Is that your emotional-support firearm?" Lee asked. "Adorable."

"Shut up, Lee." Brigid looked at the shuttered window. "She'll be here. Lev is taking me tomorrow to see the raid."

"You're sure it's Zasha?"

Brigid looked back at the screen. "I'm sure."

He frowned down at his keyboard. "But others aren't?"

"Opinions are mixed. Accordin' to Mika, Zasha is the only one who would have dared inflict this kind of damage under Oleg's nose. But there's some debate if Zasha is working solo and just wants to piss off their brother or…"

Lee looked up. "Or?"

"Some folks in Oleg's organization think Zasha is working with Katya."

Lee's eyebrows went up. "Katya Grigorieva? Our Katya? The vampire who runs Alaska?"

"‘Runs Alaska' is a very fluid idea." She thought about the wild country she'd passed on the dogsled. "I have a feelin' that Alaska mostly runs itself."

"What about the Ankers?"

The Ankers were a shadowy vampire clan that dealt in information, illegal data harvesting, and identity fraud. They also had some shipping interests that Oleg used to his advantage.

"Zasha's worked with the Ankers before," Lee continued. "They worked together in Las Vegas and in Louisiana. Oleg's people don't suspect that the Ankers are funding Zasha this time?"

"According to Mika, it's not likely. Oleg has some kinda deal with them about moving fuel out of Russia with their unregistered fleet, and they make a lot of money by not pissin' him off."

"Could they be right?" Lee asked. "Would Katya work with Zasha Sokholov?"

"I doubt it." Brigid shrugged. "I get the feelin' that Oleg's crew up here knee-jerk blame Katya for most stuff if it's aggressive. I'm gonna try to talk some sense into Mika when I see him. I'm with you—I think Zasha is probably working with the Ankers again, but I'm a nobody up here." She frowned. "Actually, I'm a barsuk. Any idea what that is?"

"No." Lee pursed his lips. "But I can try to find out. Don't rock the boat in the Wild Vampire West, boss."

"I'll try not to." She hunched forward and started lining up the pieces of her compact Hellcat from magazine on the left to frame on the right. "Any luck tracking the Ankers' money lately?"

"No. I'm pretty sure they're using cryptocurrency, because there was a gold exchange in Antwerp that received a sizable deposit a week ago—roughly two million dollars—and another one that popped a two million outlay to a client two days later in Vancouver. If Zasha is in Alaska and someone wanted to send them money, Vancouver is the closest gold exchange they could use."

"Vancouver?"

"Yep."

That was close. "Vancouver is Katya's territory."

Lee's voice dropped. "So you think there might be some truth to what Mika was saying?"

"No." Please, God, don't let Katya be working with Zasha. That would be a huge mess. "Even if it's in her territory, Katya can't interfere with the gold exchanges."

"She'd make a lot of people angry if she did." All vampires relied on the gold exchanges to move money around in the human-dominated modern age, and lately more and more of them were discovering cryptocurrency, which was even harder to trace than gold. "But that confirms that whatever Zasha is up to, the Ankers are probably involved."

Brigid nodded. "Yeah. That is that it looks like."

"But?"

She looked at Lee's face on the screen. "Zasha made a lot of money in Vegas when they were there. They don't need money right now." And she didn't think Zasha was truly motivated by money in the first place. "So why piss off your vampire brother in his backyard to make money you don't really need?" She started reassembling her 9mm. "I'll figure it out. Just need time and more information."

"She's going to come."

"Hmm?" Brigid had been thinking about Las Vegas and lost track of Lee. "Who?"

"Tenzin. She's going to come. She always does when things get bad."

She pushed the slide lever back into position. "How'd you like that to be your reputation, Lee? The one who shows up when things go to shit."

He shrugged. "I guess as long as I could help make things better, I'd be okay with it."

"Yeah. Fair point." She tested the function of her gun, then carefully checked the magazine, reinserted it, and clicked the safety into place.

Of course, Lee's point was only good as long as you ignored the very real likelihood that was starting to stare Brigid in the face the longer she looked at this problem.

Tenzin wasn't the solution to this tangled mess that had ensnared Brigid's life. She was probably the one who'd started it.