"It seems you're doing well courting death without my help, sensor."

I coughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His eyes reflected the cold intensity I had grown used to seeing. "I know about your run-in with the witch."

It didn't surprise me. Lucas always appeared to be aware of what went on in my life. Nephilim kept their unique abilities well guarded, but he'd revealed a few things during the time we'd known each other. I had learned he could teleport wherever he wanted and track my activities without me even knowing it. How that was possible with my immunity to magic, I didn't know, but it appeared he had a way. I was half-tempted to get a full body scan done to see if he hadn't somehow managed to implant a tracking device on me.

"What do you want, Lucas?"

He ignored my question and came over to peer at my computer screen. His body moved without a sound. I reached to shut off the monitor, but he grabbed my hand before my finger could graze the switch. His grip was tight and unyielding, much like the man.

"Booking a flight to Fairbanks?" he said close to my ear. "Interesting. You do have a death wish."

I managed to jerk my hand free. Of course, it worked because he allowed it. He straightened to a full standing position, forcing me to lift my head up.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." I scooted my chair back a few inches. "But one of my best friends is in trouble. Someone has to check on her and there is no one else who can do it. Not that it's any of your business."

Why was I even bothering to explain this to him? Lucas always had a strange effect on my sensibilities.

His eyes glinted as if he knew what I was thinking. "You do realize Fairbanks is a supernatural haven? They will not respond well to your presence."

"A haven?" I asked. "Like a hot spot?"

His face reflected disgust. "Of course. Though not all of them stay for the summer months, there are still enough to be a threat to one of your kind."

I focused on a bare spot on the wall to avoid his all-knowing gaze. "Then I'll have to make sure they don't discover what I am."

The fact he bothered to divulge such a critical piece of information made me want to doubt him, but my senses revealed he spoke the truth. One of the more useful abilities I had-neither sups nor humans could lie to me.

Not even him.

Now I had to factor in the idea Fairbanks might be a more dangerous place to travel than expected. Not as bad as staying here. At least the supernatural population up there didn't have any reason to suspect me of being anything other than a normal human, but still not as safe as I'd hoped.

"I'm not going to be the one to stop you." He shrugged. "By all means, go and get yourself killed. Saves me the trouble of doing it later."

Whenever he said things like that, it didn't settle well with my truth meter. Not to mention his past history with me didn't quite match up and that made me wonder what his real game was. It had been three years since we'd last seen each other. He'd been avoiding me until now. What had changed?

"Speaking of my impending death, want to explain why you stepped in to save my life? I've wanted to ask, but you haven't given me the chance. You could have let me die in that explosion."

His face hardened. "I had my reasons. Don't read too much into it."

"Based on the way you act, it doesn't make sense. I want to know why. Not that it will make me forgive you for killing Wanda."

"Your Wanda got what was coming to her," he growled out. "As for the rest, there are some things better left alone. Let it go, sensor."

He told the truth on that one, which bothered me. My need to understand his actions overcame my fear. I stood up so that our faces were not more than a foot apart.

"You saved my life," I said between clenched teeth. "Despite killing my guardian and threatening many times to do the same to me. I have a hard time believing there isn't something more behind these random visits of yours."

One moment I stood beside the chair, and the next he had me against the wall. One hand wrapped around my throat. I struggled to breathe while being dangled at least a foot off the floor. Maybe yelling at him hadn't been such a good idea.

"I said leave it alone. I'm not warning you again."

Unable to move, except to grip Lucas' wrist in an attempt to relieve the pressure on my neck, all I could do was stare into his golden eyes. They projected suppressed rage. Maybe it would be better not to push my luck any further-not that talking was an option at the moment. He let me go right as my vision began to blacken. I fell to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath.

"Enjoy your trip to Alaska. It may be the last place you ever see."

By the time I sucked in enough air to reply, he'd left. Why did he have to flash in and out like that? Once again he'd disappeared to avoid answering my questions. Why had he shown up that day and saved my life? I would be dead now if he hadn't shielded my body from the rocket attack.

A souvenir from the experience still remained. Thinking of it made me feel for the scar above my hip. My fingers traced the rigid path where a piece of metal had managed to find its way around his formidable protection. It was several inches long and reached across my left side. Sometimes it ached as a reminder of that day. He had taken most of the damage, so the injury wasn't as bad as it could have been.

If he'd not come when he did, though, I wouldn't be alive-a point that was hard to admit. Several of my comrades lost their lives that day. I'd seen the horrific damage done to their bodies and tried to save the ones I could, but not many had made it. The same could have happened to me, but instead I was awarded for bravery under fire. Like a cruel joke. Lucas' immortality and ability to block the worst of the blast was what really made the difference and allowed me to help them. I wished I could have done more.

Lucas had suffered plenty of injuries himself, but healed after I helped him remove all the shrapnel from his body. He didn't stay long, leaving me to deal with the rest of the mess. It still begged the question-why would he suffer even temporary pain if he wanted me dead?

I had no easy answer and it didn't matter in the scheme of things. His being a nephilim and me a human would keep us at odds. Nothing could change that. I shrugged off his strange behavior for later speculation and focused on more imminent concerns.

Discovering Fairbanks might be more dangerous than expected meant I had even more preparations to make. Its supernatural haven status wouldn't stop me from searching for my best friend, and in fact made me want to check on her more, but it would be a greater risk. I couldn't allow my fear of sups to get in the way this time.

Chapter Three.

The Fairbanks airport wasn't the largest one I'd ever flown into, but it had everything a sprawling metropolis of 35,000 people needed. Okay, more like 91,000, if you counted the neighboring towns. It seemed hard to believe the city rated as the second largest in the state at that size. The temperature outside didn't feel all too different from Monterey, and according to my research, the weather in August wouldn't be too bad. It made for an ideal time to come-if you discounted my missing friend and the supernatural element of the place.

The rental car company had my four-wheel drive Nissan Pathfinder ready when I arrived to pick it up. The plane had landed close to midnight and all I could think about was getting to my hotel and falling straight to sleep. With any luck, there wouldn't be any nocturnal sups to get in the way during the short drive. At only ten days into the month, vampires were limited to about seven hours of darkness for their outdoor activities. I figured they would use every minute of it to their advantage.

Nothing eventful happened along the way. I sensed the occasional sup nearby but none worth worrying about. The sight of the motel sign flashing ahead brought a sigh of relief. It wasn't anything fancy, just a typical 1950s style complex with rooms running on three sides of the parking lot. All at ground level. The cheap price was what had sold me.

After getting the keys to my room, I hauled my bags inside. Most people would think they were filled with a ton of girl stuff, but I'd brought a few tools of the trade as well in case things didn't go as planned. Not wanting to waste time, I dumped it all into a corner and wiped my hands off on my jeans while surveying my surroundings.

The room wasn't much better than the outside of the motel. It had shabby furniture and drapes to match. I didn't care for the strong smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, but at least everything appeared clean. There were far worse places to lay my head. In my army days I'd had to sleep on the cold, hard ground with nothing more than a sleeping bag for protection. That made me less picky than most people.

Discovering the weak water pressure in my shower the next morning didn't start the day out well, though. With wet hair clinging midway down my back, I dug out my laptop and managed to connect to the motel's complimentary Wi-Fi signal. A glance through my email showed Aniya still hadn't responded to any of my attempts to contact her.

A check of the weather report told me it would be a warm day, for Alaska, with highs in the upper seventies. Not too hot to leave my hair down. I dressed in jeans and a light blue t-shirt that matched my eyes. My backpack came with me, filled with various essentials that might come in handy. Knives, duct tape, first-aid kit, extra cash, and a change of clothes were all inside. If things got complicated, I'd be prepared.

The cafe adjacent to the motel turned out to be a good place to grab breakfast. Some of the locals were eating in there, along with a few tourists. No one paid much attention to my arrival, which suited me fine. At least my fair skin blended in well, along with my casual attire. You could pick out a lot of the visitors based on their expensive outdoor clothing and tanned complexions.

One family sitting in a corner booth had decked themselves out in top of the line gear. You'd think they were going to climb Mount Everest, rather than gold panning, as I'd overheard them say. I'd already guessed most Alaskans wouldn't fork out the kind of cash Mountain Hardwear and North Face called for. Locals were always more practical. You picked these things up when you traveled a lot. For me, I liked the same nice stuff the tourists did but it wasn't worth standing out any more than I had to.

After finishing my meal, I headed off to check the address Aniya had given her mother. My Google maps directions took me to the edge of town and I had to check twice to verify I'd come to the right place. The "house" turned out to be not much bigger than a shack. An old, rusted car sat looking forlorn in front with grass covering its tires and grill. Other assorted junk had been left scattered around the side, including a fridge lying on the ground with the door torn off. Many of the houses I'd driven past on the way here had similar debris decorating their yards. It wasn't the classiest of neighborhoods by any stretch of the imagination.

I risked the semi-rotted steps to check the front door. My intuition told me this place hadn't been lived in for years, but I wanted to verify that before running off. The door didn't open when my hand jiggled the knob, and no noises came from inside. A glance through the broken front window revealed nothing more than trash and animal feces littering the floor. It might have been used as a teenage hangout, but nothing more than that.

My shoulders slumped as my hopes for a quick search and rescue mission came to an end. I'd been set around the idea Aniya would be here and we could resolve the whole matter with a simple explanation. I should have known better. She must have figured out early on Philip wasn't who he claimed to be. The fake address proved it. Why hadn't she told any of us this as soon as she arrived?

The possible answers worried me. She was too innocent to get caught up in something like this. The idea of sups being involved was growing on me. What had Noreen said back at the club? Something about northern climates. I really hoped she didn't mean this far up.

I trudged back to my vehicle and resigned myself to speaking with the police next. Mrs. Singh had said they weren't cooperative over the phone, but it would be worth a try to talk to them in person. Maybe my physical presence would get their attention.

I pulled into the nearest station about ten minutes later and walked inside. A dour-faced woman with frizzy brown hair pulled back in a bun sat behind the counter. She refused to acknowledge my presence while typing something into the computer. Attempts to get her attention gained me nothing more than a dismissive hand gesture. An older man, with a scruffy gray beard and filthy clothes, sat in the corner watching me with interest. I turned my gaze away from him, not liking the toothless grin he gave me.

A few minutes later, the woman raised her head, impatience written all across her face. "What do you want?"

"This is a police station, right?" I lifted my brows in question.

"Of course." She rolled her eyes. "What are you here for?"

To smack some sense into you. Of course, I couldn't say that. She definitely wouldn't help then.

"I need to report a missing woman. Her name is Aniya Singh."

The woman's thin eyebrows rose at my statement. "How long has she been missing?"

"The last contact anyone had with her was almost three weeks ago." Better to leave out the details of her last cryptic and questionable email.

The desk clerk narrowed her eyes and gave me a slow once over. "Does your friend live in the Fairbanks area?"

As if that should matter. I tried to reign in my temper and forced my hand to unclench from the tight grip it had around my keys.

"No, she came here about six weeks ago to visit a man named Philip Mercer. I'm worried he may have done something to her."

"Are you a relative?"

"No."

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Melena Sanders. Aniya is my roommate and best friend. Her mother is worried about her. She tried calling your department to let you know her daughter was missing, but you all wouldn't help her."

Glenda, according to her name tag, attempted to look down her nose at me. Her thick glasses almost slid off. I smiled. She pushed them back up and leaned forward in her chair.

"I'm sure your friend is fine and most likely on some romantic getaway with this Philip she met up with. Happens all the time. He probably lives out in the bush where it's difficult to get a cell phone signal. Nothing to worry about."

I frowned. "The bush?"

She rolled her eyes. "The surrounding area outside the city. We refer to it as the bush here in Alaska. Where are you from?"

I shifted my stance. Glenda was beginning to piss me off with her line of questioning.

"California. What does that have to do with anything?"

She grimaced. "You cheechakos, always coming in here demanding immediate attention for the littlest thing. California, humph!"

Cheechako meant an outsider to Alaska. I'd seen the term mentioned while checking out travel sites, but by the way she said the word, it sounded like an insult. I'd had enough of this woman.

"I want to speak with a detective or police officer."

She gave me another huff before raising her large frame from the chair. It let out a loud squeak.

"You have a seat and I'll get someone to talk to you. Not that it'll do you any good." She yelled the last part over her shoulder. I cringed; most of the building must have heard her. The old guy in the corner sure did since he was now cackling with glee. The heavy scent of alcohol wafted heavily from him.

Not wanting to get too close to the drunk, I took a seat on the opposite side of the small waiting area. The chair I settled into was a hideous orange color that must have been older than my twenty-six years. Something told me this could take awhile so I stretched my legs out for greater comfort. The woman came back a few minutes later and confirmed my initial assumption-no one would see me right away. A glance at my watch told me it was about noon.

An hour later I was nodding off in my seat. There wasn't even a TV to keep me distracted. About the time my patience came to an end a tall man wearing a suit, who appeared to be in his late thirties, came lumbering out. He motioned for me to come over. I hopped up and followed him past the reception area.

There was a slight limp in his gait as he led the way back to his office. Once we were inside, with the door left open, he indicated I could have a seat on another shabby chair. This one had been upholstered with faded, moss green fabric. They must have designed it so no one would want to sit on it long.

Jack Thompson, as he introduced himself, was the deputy who had the so called "unfortunate" task of dealing with me. I noted his messy desk, but that didn't come as a surprise. It's a world-wide law that no desk in a police station can be clean and free from masses of paperwork.

"Ms. Sanders, Glenda told me of the concerns you have about your friend," he spoke in a semi-placating tone. "We did receive a phone call from Aniya Singh's mother last week. It is understandable for her to worry about her daughter, but there isn't enough evidence to make a case. We can't find any record of this Philip Mercer your friend was supposed to be visiting. That doesn't mean much, since it's possible he doesn't live in the city, but without more information to go on there is nothing we can do. Your traveling up here isn't going to change that."

"Deputy Thompson...," I began.

"Call me Jack."

A little more familiar than I would like, but if it would get him to cooperate...

"Okay, Jack. You have to understand there must be something wrong with Aniya for her to not contact anyone for this long. Are you sure there isn't something more that can be done?"

He folded his hands and set them in front of him. "The problem is there is no evidence of foul play. Women fly up here all the time to meet men. Some fall in love and stay, others run screaming for civilization. Plenty of girls forget to contact their families for a while. Your friend wouldn't be the first or the last. She and this man are probably out in an area where phones and internet aren't accessible. It's nothing to get worked up about."

"For three weeks? Without telling anyone?"

He shrugged. "It could be for even longer if they went out to the bush. Maybe that's where he lives and she just hasn't had a chance to get back in touch."

Frustrated, I tried a different tactic. "Can you at least take a report of Aniya being missing?"

He sighed. "We don't feel it's worth the effort at this point."

"Okay, but have there been any unidentified women's bodies found in the last few weeks."

Jack shook his head. "None recently."

I jumped on the way he worded his answer. "There have been some that occurred before, though?"

His face closed off. "It's nothing to concern yourself about. There've been no suspicious deaths in the area in the last few weeks. That's all you need to know."

My teeth ground together. The one failing of being able to sort out lies from truth is that some people could word things in a careful enough manner that they could get by me. Non-answers and evasion tactics were always good ways to avoid being caught up. It was amazing how many people used the skill even without knowing of my ability.

I stood and laid my hands flat on his desk. "In other words, you made me wait for over an hour to speak with you, so you could say nothing wrong is going on. Is that it?"

He held his hands up. "I'm sorry Ms. Sanders, but we're short-staffed for detectives right now and I'm busy with a real case. There's no need for you to get upset."