Blood Winter Read Free Page B

northeast side of the mountain.
    It was an expansive space with low ceilings. Vehicles were parked in rows. Max headed for a dark green Suburban. Kyle, Carrie Lydman, and Alexander were already waiting. Carrie was dressed much like Tory. Together, the two were stunning. Max had little doubt that men would certainly get diarrhea of the mouth upon seeing them.
    Kyle was bouncing on his toes like a five-year-old at Disneyland, and Alexander stood at the rear of the Suburban, the back doors open as he checked supplies. At six feet, he was just a few inches taller than she. His skin was the color of tea, like he spent all his time in the sun. His short hair was black. A close-cut goatee framed his mouth. He was lean and muscular, and it made Max drool just to look at him.
    He looked up as she and Tory entered, his dark gaze smoldering. Max shivered, resisting the urge to drag him off to a closet and have her way with him.
    She took hold of herself, suppressing her reaction, keeping her face from showing her hunger. She was Horngate’s Shadowblade Prime, which meant she was in charge of Alexander and the rest of the Blades. She needed to stay focused on her job. She didn’t need anybody else dying on her watch.
    She crossed to glance inside the back of the Suburban, sidling away from his hand as he reached for her. He pulled back, his mouth flattening, his eyes flashing hurt annoyance. Max clenched her teeth. What the hell did he expect from her? But she knew the answer. He wanted public acknowledgment of their relationship. The trouble was, she was still trying to figure out exactly what their relationship was. She cared about him— loved him, she corrected herself acidly. She might as well admit it to herself, even if she was too much of a coward to tell him.
    She didn’t have much experience with long-term relationships. She’d only had one serious boyfriend before Giselle had turned her, and she’d fumbled that. She was like a child figuring out how to do calculus.
    With a silent sigh, she pushed aside her internal turmoil. She’d work on fixing her head later. Now she had to get everybody in and out of Missoula alive.
    Inside the back of the Suburban was a row of six shotguns upright in a rack. Beside them were six bandoliers with shells and grenades. The latter were witch-made. There was also a chest containing a variety of other weapons, including handguns, clips of bullets, knives, witch chain, canisters of salt, iron filings, mixes of herbs, tubs of healing salve, bandages, charms, light and dark sealed sacks, and duct tape, plus jerky, homemade high-calorie energy bars, and two jugs of Ugly Juice.
    She and Alexander were both already wearing tactical vests, the pockets bulging with a variety of supplies. Max’s .45 was holstered on her hip, and she had her two favorite flat-bladed knives strapped to her arms. Around her neck was a gold torque that could stretch itself into a garrote, a wire-thin rope, and other useful shapes. She had a Glock 9mm tucked into an ankle holster and a combat knife in her waistband.
    She glanced at her companions. “Ready? Remember, we’re going for the single purpose of intelligence collection. We’ll have to park away from the River Market and walk in. We don’t need anyone noticing that our vehicle runs on magic. Once there, try to blend in. The word is that the market stays lively late into the night, with a lot of buying and selling, not to mention gambling, whoring, drinking, and who knows what else. It can turn into a free-for-all pretty quick. Stick close to me and Alexander—and Kyle? Don’t do anything witchy unless you have to.”
    Her brother looked at her innocently. Kyle never planned to be stupid and reckless, he just followed his idiot impulses. Babies had more sense than he did sometimes.
    Max’s eyes narrowed. A smudge of the red dust streaked Kyle’s pale blond hair above his left ear. “What is that stuff?” she asked. “Do you know?”
    “What stuff?”