Christian followed the direction of my gaze. “No, lass. That’s the aurora borealis.”
I took a step forward and marveled at the shifting colors. It looked like a shower of light rising up to the heavens. The colors were strangely beautiful and ominous, especially given our perilous journey ahead. I reached inside my coat and then ran my hand around my belt, making sure my weapons were still there. I’d lost a dagger, but that was all. After I’d squeezed out my socks, we made haste and took off up the shoreline.
Snow covered the ground. The rocks were too slippery to tread across, so Christian led the way up a steep incline until we reached flatland. The moon and northern lights reflected off the snow, providing enough light for me to flash without falling on my face. My bones were like ice, but the fire in my heart kept me warm. When Christian reached the tree line and began shadow walking, I lost sight of him. I found myself alone, running across an unforgiving terrain in search of prey.
No matter how much I tried to deny it, the one thing that quelled the rage burning within me was death.
Houdini had one thing right about me—I needed to hunt.
I needed to kill.
Chapter 30
Niko’s eyes remained closed even though he wasn’t tired. Sometimes when Wyatt was working without sleep, his energy gave Niko a headache.
Wyatt crunched on another potato chip. “I wonder if they made it there.”
“Did you try calling?”
“No answer. I found satellite imagery of the landscape, but it’s not detailed enough to see things like private airports or roads. Maybe they’re circling in search of a place to land. I don’t know much about that terrain.” Wyatt groaned, and it sounded as if he might be rubbing his face. “They should have put a tracking device on their own plane.”
Niko recognized Shepherd’s heavy gait as he entered the room. The strong smell of cigarette smoke wafted behind him.
“Any news?” he asked.
Wyatt tapped a few keys. “Nada. Radio silence for the past hour.”
Niko rolled his leather chair away from the desk. “Do either of you have any contacts up there who might be able to help us out?”
No one replied.
Light footsteps entered the room, the aroma of coffee drifting in on a current of air. Niko didn’t have to open his eyes to recognize Kira’s soft shoes.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Wyatt said.
Kira left the room humming “If I Only Had a Brain.”
Wyatt laughed. “She’s singing your song, Shep.” A sharp noise slid across the desk toward Niko. “There’s coffee to your right.”
Niko opened his eyes and reached for the cup. He preferred tea, but his body needed more caffeine.
Despite this important case, Niko couldn’t stop thinking about Gem’s situation. Had Hooper kept his word and discontinued spiking her drinks? Had he done it every single time they were together? That deception, no matter how harmless, undermined their relationship. Niko thought back to a few weeks ago when he’d followed them on a private date. Gem had offered Niko a ride into the city, but they soon parted ways. At night, it was easy for him to stay concealed. His dark clothing and hood made him difficult to notice, especially when he was on rooftops. While walking across one of them, he spotted the couple going into what he guessed was a café based on the smells and sounds. He wasn’t sure why he’d gone to such lengths to follow since he couldn’t actually see what they were doing, and afterward, he vowed never to invade her privacy again.
Niko slurped on his coffee before setting the mug back down. Kira always filled his drinks halfway, and he appreciated her thoughtfulness even though it wasn’t necessary. Niko never burned himself or spilled his drink—not unless someone bumped into him. After all, he’d only had over a thousand years of experience eating and drinking.
“This is a clusterfuck,” Shepherd muttered, the leather stool rolling out from beneath the desk. “Send them another text message. Maybe they can receive but they can’t send.”
“And what do you want me to say? Shep says hello?”
“You said the trafficker’s plane hasn’t changed locations, so they’re obviously grounded. Give ’em their coordinates and the weather forecast. Maybe that’s all they need to know.”
Niko tried to recall the size of Newfoundland. “Christian said they were flying small planes. If they’re shipping these women to Europe, why fly to Newfoundland in a small aircraft that would never make it over the ocean? Are there any shipyards nearby?”
Shepherd’s stool rolled closer. “Pull up a map.” After a few keystrokes, they were both quiet. “I bet they’re taking a ship to Greenland. A single-engine plane probably couldn’t make it that far. Especially in shitty weather.”
“Why Greenland?” Niko asked.
“I’ve heard stories about some trading that goes on up there. Lots of rich Vampires settled in Greenland.”
Wyatt cleared his throat. “Either that, or they’re shipping her all the way to Europe. It’s easier to transport illegal goods on a boat than a plane. Greenland has one major Breed airport that I know about, but you’d have to be an idiot to think you could slip past their security. Hold on… Okay. We’ve got two main Breed shipyards here and here. There are… one, two, three—it looks like four along the upper east coast. Most of those are Europe bound. You’re right, Niko. That’s a red flag.”
Shepherd’s light pulsed. “Run a check with the Vampire elders in Greenland. See if they have anyone on record named Temple.”
Niko set down his cup. “Did we already search the records in Canada?”
“Mostly,” Wyatt said. “They have a lot of provinces, and not everyone is cooperative up there.”
Niko tensed when someone patted his knee.
“Good call,” Shepherd said. “Print out the list of numbers. Niko and I will make the calls. Gives me something to do so I’m not sitting here twiddling my thumbs.”
“You’re leaving someone out of that scenario,” Claude said from the far side of the room.
Wyatt’s voice changed direction. “Thought you were sleeping, Snow White.”
“I’m just resting my eyes.”
“Why don’t you go wake up Gem? We might need her help if some of our contacts don’t speak any English. Unless you know how to speak Greenlandic.”
Niko chuckled. “I think you mean Danish.”
“I thought Danes spoke Danish? Aren’t they from Denmark? Canadians speak English, so we’re good there.”
“Not all,” Claude said as he moved toward the door. “Some speak French. And not everyone in Greenland speaks Danish.”
Shepherd groaned. “I’m gonna need more coffee. Be right back.”