“Idiot isn’t wearing a helmet,” the pilot muttered.
The idiot was a witch and didn’t need a helmet. The man slowed to a stop and cut the engine, remaining in place, gaze shielded behind the glasses.
“Good. He’s bigger than you, so the polar bears will eat him first. You could run for safety while he gets eaten,” the pilot said. “One last chance, Ms. Jones. Come with me and leave this lonely place.” He quickly crossed himself.
She turned and gave him a gentle nudge toward his seaplane. “I’m stronger than I look. Thank you for your help, and please don’t give me a second thought.”
His brown eyes warmed, even as he backed away. “I hate to tell you this, little lady, but you’d be a hard one to forget.” His frown reached his eyes as he glanced toward the rider, who still hadn’t moved. “You know anything about this guy?”
“I do. We’re old friends,” she lied. Truth be told, she’d heard about him from a friend of an acquaintance of a friend. A mercenary for hire—one with excellent connections.
“Okay.” The pilot finally gave up and ambled back toward his plane. “Good luck.”
Yeah. She needed luck. She kept in place, waiting until the pilot had steered the plane out to the calm sea and taken off. Keeping her expression relaxed, she slowly strode toward the silent rider, stopping a couple of feet away. The plane flew over her head. “Vegar Bergan?” she asked.
He nodded and tipped down the glasses to reveal cold blue eyes. “Ms. . . . Jones?”
“I am today,” she returned easily. They were business acquaintances, and he didn’t get to know her real name. “I take it you received the first half of the payment?” She’d wired the five million dollars the previous night.
“Yes.” He glanced from her hair to her fur-lined boots. “You’re not a witch.”
“No.” She steeled her shoulders and pointed to the entrance to the mountain, shielded by a frozen orange metal building. “I’d like to start with this mine.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “That one’s empty, one we can’t reach, and two are very heavily guarded and difficult to get to, even with a snowmobile. I told you that before you came all the way out to the middle of nowhere.”
She tilted her head. “Yet you took my money anyway, so I want to see the mines.”
His chin lifted. “You’re not a shifter, either.”
“No.”
“Something, though. Something light.” He frowned. “Fairy?”
Had the low-browed witch just called her a fairy? Fire lit inside her, a testament to her heritage. Fairies stayed in their communes and didn’t venture out. Well, most of them. She’d only met a few in her life, and she was nowhere near that calm or gentle. “I’m not a fairy,” she muttered.
He leaned back, eyebrows drawing down. “You’re human? An enhanced female?” Without losing a beat, he threw back his head and laughed, long and hard. The sound slapped against the deserted buildings and pinged back. “You’re kidding me. Human.”
She gritted her teeth together and barely forced out words. “My heritage is irrelevant, and I hired you to do a job. So do it.”
He sobered and slowly drew out a snub-nosed pistol. “I thought this would be much more difficult, but I figured you for a witch. Considering you’re looking for planekite.”
She settled her boots in the snow and drew in a deep breath. The guy was a foot taller than she and about a hundred pounds heavier. At least. She’d have to be fast and brutal if they fought. “If I don’t see the mines and reach safety, then you don’t get the other five million.”
He smiled then, revealing oversized teeth and sharp canines. “You’re apparently worth twenty million.”
Heat flushed down her torso to slam into her stomach. “You know who I am.”