Winter Peril
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2015
A Kindle Scout selection
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 1
Erica Mira’s shoulders tightened. The tree branch spun on the road. She blinked. That wasn’t natural. The word mom brought her back. The snowstorm outside matched Erica’s heartbeat. “What happened?” she said into the phone.
“The stem cell therapy began today, and your mother is feeling weak from her chemotherapy.”
Erica’s car took far too long to trudge ahead, and the steering wheel locked a bit. Her mother wouldn’t want her to get stuck in middle-of-nowhere, Maine. However, Erica needed money to pay for her mother’s medical bills. Cancer sucked. “I should go. I’ll call her the second I find a hotel.”
“Excellent. Are you on time for your meeting?”
The car skidded. Her heart raced, and she clutched the wheel.
“Ms. Mira?”
Erica steadied the car but held her breath.
“Is everything okay, boss?”
Erica’s shoulders tightened. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t be driving in this storm.”
Adrenaline pumped through her veins. She increased the speed of her wipers and hoped that her vision would somehow improve. It didn’t. Then she opened the window to help visibility. The wind bit at her nose, and she rolled it up fast.
She shook her head and yawned. The road visibility grew worse every time she blinked. She couldn’t see beyond her headlights. She gripped the wheel tighter. “Where were we?”
“Ms. Mira, you’re breaking up. Are you okay?”
“I have to be.” Erica’s heart beat wildly, but she stayed on the road. “The investors wouldn’t have called me up to the backwoods of Maine to sign papers in the middle of winter if they weren’t going to support my bid for the factory.”
Her secretary shouted, “Hello?”
The wind hissed, and thunder cracked in the air. Goose bumps erupted on Erica’s skin. She had no choice but to keep going. “What did Mom’s doctor say to you?” Her knuckles turned white.
“I’ll call tomorrow morning. I can’t hear anything.”
Erica clicked the phone off. The bleakness of the snow-covered mountains was bad. Where was this hotel? Had the GPS lied? The empty, dark road held no solutions. Her heart raced. She tried to use reason to calm herself down. All she had in this world was her mother. Cancer could not break up her family, and neither would a winter storm. “I love you, Mom.”
The wind howled, and the traction of the car became lighter. Erica bit her lip; then the car spun.
She screamed and stepped on the gas.
The wheels squealed. The high pitch pierced her eardrums. Without another thought, she stepped on the brake.
Boom.
An airbag knocked her back. The car continued to spin. Her head hurt, but she clutched the steering wheel.
Tears formed in her eyes. I’m going to die.
The wind howled, but everything else was eerily calm.
She blinked. The car was mangled metal, and the hiss of the engine roared in her ears. She sucked in a breath. Would there be a fire? She screamed. Smoke came from the engine. She had to get out. Now. No, wait.
Irrational reaction never solved a problem. She should back up the car. Her heartbeat thumped.
Mom, I will be there. Erica switched to reverse and tried to turn. The car hissed and smoke fed into the air.
Whoosh.
She needed to get out. Smoke forced her eyes to tear up. Erica struggled to get her seat belt off. The door handle fought back and didn’t work.
Her teeth chattered.
A tree had sheared the hood of her car, and the engine steamed.
She refused to die in an inferno as she pictured in her mind. She had only seconds to escape. Her hands shook, and she tried to push at the door to stand.
Every breath came choppy and harder. Was smoke now inside?
Her eyes misted. She shoved at the door. It didn’t budge.
Her hands trembled, and she closed her eyes. How would her sister, Kimberly, know to help Mom? Erica opened her eyes and tried the handle again. This time the door opened, and she took a deep breath.
Hiss.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she jumped out of the car.
The wind had tentacles of ice. Erica’s thin gloves weren’t much help. She gasped and ran her hands through her dark hair.
The storm howled so loudly in her ears.
She lifted her chin. Panic never helped anyone, and in this storm she’d need her wits.
Nine-one-one worked out here. The police or fire department would find her.
She grabbed her phone. No signal. Had she ruined it in the crash? She powered down the phone to give it a moment.
Alone, as usual. Erica put her hand over her heart, and she took a few deep breaths, peering through the gray, dark fog that had settled on the dead forest.
The storm would get far worse, and fast.
She zipped her thin plastic coat all the way. Erica refused to give in to dark thoughts, and concentrated instead on one good thing. She snapped her fingers. Her driving gloves weren’t that thick. At least she’d worn her jeans to drive. The people at the car rental place in Boston had warned her of a blizzard. She bit her lip.
Her ears went numb.
Above the trees, the storm clouds shifted and allowed her to gaze halfway up a mountain. She did a double take and rubbed the back of her neck. A huge mansion, or hotel, or some large, all-white building became visible. Was it the hotel on the GPS? She rubbed her eyes. The huge house was the answer, though every window was dark. Was this a trick of her mind, or did visions happen only in deserts?
This drive up to Maine in a storm had been desperate and stupid. She had no idea what to do now. She swallowed, and ice rushed into her lungs. The wind howled, and she shivered. She should have bought a ski jacket. Winter sucked. She’d never seen snow until this trip, and now she wanted the warm beaches of Miami back.
The cold seeped into her skin. Her fingers shook as she took the keys out of the hissing car. She reached for her pocketbook. Would the car blow up? She took a step back, and the car went quiet.
Then she turned on her phone and tried again. No service. She bit her lower lip and stared up the mountain. The night was black, as the snow-laden clouds hid the moon completely from sight. She racked her brain. T
he mansion was halfway up on some sort of ledge.
Then the wind and the fog blocked everything, and the house was no longer visible.
She turned back to her car. Should she wait? She doubted anyone drove on this road. She’d be found frozen in the spring.
No. Her mother needed her. She’d not seen any other cars in the past few hours, and no one would come to help her. An abandoned house or hotel still would have supplies to survive this.
Something wet brushed her face. She blinked, and it happened again. It was too cold to be rain. Then she saw her breath in a cloud. The snowflakes now seemed heavier.
If she waited, she’d die.
Her gaze took in everything. The darkness made the white snow appear worse than a gun in her face. The dead trees closer to the road gave no signs of shelter. The winds howled through the evergreen forest and caused another shiver down through her sneakers. Her limbs were nearly frozen already. She took a step and almost fell. Her toes were numb.
She swallowed hard. She grabbed her pocketbook and began hiking up the road. Her feet became so cold that the mechanics of every step took all her strength.
Her fingers iced inside her gloves. She closed her eyes and imagined a fire. Someone had to live in that huge place. To warm herself, she blew on her gloves, not that it helped. The ground underneath her feet became more jagged. She must have made her way up past the embankment of the paved road.
She almost turned back to stare at how far she’d gone, but the cold, wet snow melted on her neck to remind her she needed shelter fast.
The fog almost tricked her senses into believing that the storm wasn’t that bad. Her teeth chattered. Ice settled on her eyelashes as she reached the top of the road.
Erica shivered and hugged herself. She narrowed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Then her heart lifted out of her chest. Halfway up the mountain and to her right sat the huge chateau. Climbing up the small mountain was her only solution.
She’d been right.
A place like that would have a working phone or computer.
She’d have to climb through half the dead trees and through the evergreen forest to get there, but hiking the mountain couldn’t be that bad. She swore her legs were still attached to her body. In pictures, people made mountains look beautiful.
She stared down the road. The thick fog made the bottom of the hill disappear. Erica rolled her shoulders. She had no other option.
Her icy hands reminded her she didn’t have much time. She turned to start up the mountain as fast as she could. She was wearing running shoes, not boots made for ice, and every step became more slippery while the wind pelted her.
She slipped again and fell to her knees. The water on her limbs made her feel everything, but she kept up her march. The snowy bottom cushioned her falls, but she had to climb.
The mansion didn’t have any lights on.
Erica willed her legs to continue and took another step. Then another. Even if the darkness inside the building remained, she’d have a better chance inside than out.
A smile grew on her face. In the warmth of Miami, she’d never wish for snow again.
She lost the sensation in her fingers. The wind lashed her skin. To find a second of warmth, she rubbed her hands on her legs, but she kept on her forward trek. The snow hit hard, more like ice. It was worse than snow. Did snow freeze too?
With her gaze on the ground, she stumbled a few times but dragged herself up, determined to keep going. She refused to succumb to the dense fog that became so thick she couldn’t see her hands. Erica Mira would not die in the middle of nowhere without leaving her mark on this world. She’d not leave her mother alone in this world. She had to keep trudging through this mess. Her sister had already abandoned both of them.
The massive building sat in the field across from her. The white walls reflected off the moon that peaked through the storm. The mansion was at least three floors, with big windows and no lights on inside.
A howl came from behind her.
Wolves? Her legs wanted to run, but she couldn’t lift them. She ran her hands down her body, which was now just as numb as her feet. She rubbed her thighs to keep her circulation flowing. Salvation wasn’t far now.
At the massive wooden door, she touched the doorbell, but it was frozen. The metal iced through her numbed fingers.
No noise greeted her ears. Had the bell rung?
Her heart raced again.
She banged, but she couldn’t make much noise.
The wind chilled her blood even more.
Desperate, she turned the handle; the door opened. She stepped inside the black-as-night room. “Hello?”
Her voice echoed through the darkened hall. The walls kept the wind outside, but Erica’s body trembled.
She stared above her and toward the walls and slowly her gaze adjusted. Dust rested on everything from the abandoned front desk to the picture frames. She stepped back, and her hand caught in cobwebs in the corner as she reached for electricity. She flipped the switch, but no light came on. She jumped, but her limbs were numb. The white marble floor appeared dull beneath its layer of dust. Marble wasn’t good for her right now. Erica marched in place to stay warm.
A cold wind inched up her back from some unseen force. A dull light helped her see in the room. Beyond the lobby desk of the forgotten hotel was a grand room littered with linen-draped furniture, but it was the portrait of a beautiful blonde woman that captured her. The dust didn’t dull the vividness in the portrait. The coldness in the blue eyes that stared at Erica sent chills through her body.
She wanted to run back outside, but she refused to die out there. She had to live. She breathed harder. With a gulp of air, she wished she had traveled with someone. Her chest was so heavy now, and every breath she took was a struggle. If she’d brought a friend or even her wayward sister, it would have made the dark, black, dirty windows less menacing.
There had to be a warmer room inside the house.
Clack.
She froze near the door, then jerked around. What was that? She ran her hands over her heart and tried to stop the panic in her chest. The wind or branches scraped the windows.
A shadow came closer. She pressed her lips together. “Hello?”
The noise had come from the back of the house. She withheld a scream and went toward the noise. She needed to find something warmer to stop the cold, but she had nowhere to go. The sound called to her soul.
Nothing stirred.
She blinked.
Her mind fogged up. Outside sent her brain into a tailspin. She needed warmth.
Boom.
Her ears buzzed and registered the sound, and she clutched the doorknob.
Crackle.
Fire. She let the handle go. Someone had started a fire. Her chest craved warmth. She’d live through this. She imagined a fireplace and headed toward the sound in the other room.
Pictures stared at her as she walked down the dark hall, so she bowed her head. She’d find the fireplace. She had to. She walked unsteadily until she reached double sliding doors. She pressed her trembling hands onto the wood and realized she walked on hardwood floors now. She slid open the doors and her chin jerked up. She stepped into a cozy room and smiled at the fire in the huge fireplace, with bookshelves all around. This place was her dream, and she fell to her knees.
The fire hypnotized her.
“Who the hell are you?” a male voice demanded from behind her.
She shivered, then turned to see. Who was this dark-haired man?
Her vision blurred. She narrowed her eyes and pushed past the black spots that swam in her vision. A well-built, muscular man with flannel pajama bottoms and dark, unkempt hair stood at a side door.
She rubbed her forehead. Her jaw chattered. “E . . . ri . . . ca.”
“Who are you? Why are you in my house?”
“C . . . ol . . . d.”
He tilted his head and stared hard at her with his almost black eyes. “Your clothes ar
e soaking wet. How are you not dead?”
Her lips parted. She guessed he wouldn’t throw her out to die. Her gaze went to the ceiling, then back to him. The man had the bone structure of an avenging angel statue seen in churches across the globe. She bowed her head. She blinked and stared at his big, full lips and square jaw. Angels were warm.
He stepped back. “I’ll be right back.”
She pressed her lips together and tried to tell him to stay. No words formed. He walked out another door at the other end of the room. She chewed her lip and collapsed fully on the floor. Her teeth chattered, and she shook her head. She wouldn’t die, not now.
He’d left a mug of something hot on a nearby table. Her lips parted and she dragged herself to the table. Finally, she sniffed the drink. The smell seemed familiar, but her nose didn’t seem to work. Who was he? What was he? She’d never seen such broad shoulders.
Another shiver escaped her. He could be a murderer. He could be on the phone with the police. Whoever he was, the thought of his brown eyes sent a thrill down her body. She sounded stupid to herself right now, and she ought to go, but that was not a choice given her situation.
She tried to stand and head toward the door, but she stumbled. Her feet were like lead. Instead, she dragged herself back to the drink, and the aroma of creamy hot chocolate filled her nostrils. Her fingers reached out for the cup.
Her hands trembled, but the warmth of the mug steadied her fingers. Finally, she lifted the glass and gulped some of the hot liquid.
She’d pay him back.
Then another shiver coursed through her body and she lost the ability to think again.
She struggled but managed to put the cup back on the table.
The unpaid bills on her coffee table at home floated through her mind.
Then she shook so badly that she fell backward, and her backside hit the floor. Her jeans were soaked. The ice inside her bones was so intensely cold.
The button of her jeans didn’t want to release. She’d not dry if she was soaked. With a sigh, she managed to pull off her gloves and warm her hands by the fire.
He returned with a blanket and clothes. As he threw the blanket over her shoulders, a hint of pine and sandalwood tickled her nose, and he pulled her back to the couch. His tempting scent dissipated while she shook violently.