Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“How’s your head?” Paxton murmured.
Vero rubbed a lump behind his right ear. “It’s good. Vision’s still a little blurry, though.”
Paxton looked sideways at him. “I’ll pilot the craft.”
“Fair enough.” At this point, Vero didn’t really give a shit.
The fact that they hadn’t been able to find Hunter or even a hint of him didn’t look good. The guy could fight. And disappearing without a word, well, that just didn’t make any sense.
Vero cleared his throat. He had a question and he didn’t like it, but he had to ask it. “I’m not saying that it has happened, but if somebody killed the King of the Realm’s son, I take it this newfound peace we have is over?”
Paxton’s jaw stiffened. “Nobody killed Hunter.”
All right, so they’d go with denial. Vero could be as nonlogical as the rest of them. “All righty then. Let’s hop in the helicopter. I’m sure we’ll spot him right away.”
“We’d better,” Paxton growled, opening the pilot side of the souped-up craft.
Vero limped around the front and jumped up into the passenger seat, fastening his belt and shutting the door tight. The thing would be soundproof the minute Paxton started up the rotors and they’d have no need for headphones. Vero made sure his knives remained securely sheathed down his legs, with his gun at the back of his waist.
The helicopter started up silently and Paxton easily lifted them into the air. “What do you think?”
“Let’s follow the river.” From their position, it ran northwest before taking a sharp west turn in Alaska and emptying into the Bering Sea.
Paxton banked left. “You think he fell into the river?”
“I think if he was being attacked and he was outnumbered, he dove into the river.” It’s what Vero would have done. He wouldn’t allow himself to consider alternatives.
“Agreed,” Paxton said, his jaw hard. The male no doubt worried about Hope and how she would take Hunter’s death.
Vero would mourn his friend later if they found him without his head. For now, he worried about his nation. Peace was tenuous, and if somebody in his camp had killed the future leader of the Realm, then peace had been very short-lived.
They remained silent as they followed the river north and Vero kept his gaze peeled to the white ground beneath them, looking for any hint of the soldier. Only brush trees and wildlife filled his gaze. Nobody large enough to be Hunter. They continued for another twenty minutes.
“Do you think he would have floated this far?” Paxton asked.
Vero nodded. He’d lived in various parts of Canada his entire life, and he knew how far one of these rivers could take a body. “Yes. Plus, it was a hell of a storm last night. The water would have been rushing fast, even beneath the ice.”
His gaze caught on something up ahead. He pointed.
“What is that?” Paxton banked the helicopter left and lowered.
“I don’t know. You see what I’m seeing?” Vero asked.
“Yes, but I can’t tell what it is. It might be a deer.”
Whatever it was had stopped halfway between the river and a bend, snarled in a low-hanging tree.
Vero squinted to see better, his heart rate kicking up. “I think that’s a boot.”
Paxton leaned down. “Maybe.” He looked around. “There’s a flat area right there.” He flew even lower.
Vero could barely make out the shape of a hand. His gut clenched. “We have a body,” he said. “I see a large hand.” He didn’t recognize the boots, but when was the last time he had noticed anybody’s boots?
Paxton circled before slowly lowering the craft.
“You stay here,” Vero said.
“Not a chance.” Paxton cut the engines and jumped out.
Vero shook his head. Keeping the leader of the Kurjan nation safe was becoming a pain in his ass. He opened his door and dropped out, sinking to the top of his rib cage in snow. His body heated the mass and he kicked his way through with Paxton at his side. It made a lot more sense for Paxton to get behind him since he was already creating a trail, but Pax doggedly moved forward with him. Vero was much too stubborn to step behind his brother. As they neared the river, they both increased their speed.
A scent hit Vero. Hunter, the smell of forest and snow. He launched into a run, barreling through the snowdrifts, as Paxton did the same. Getting closer, Vero skidded on his knees toward Hunter’s legs.
Hunter lay face down with his boots submerged, one caught on a rock. Dread filled Vero’s chest and he gently started to rip branches and even a small log out of the way.
“Is his head attached?” Paxton asked, his voice low as he tugged the boot free of the rock.
“I can’t tell yet,” Vero said, his gut cramping. He lifted the last of the branches to see Hunter’s thick black hair caught on even more branches. “I see his head,” he said, leaning up, feeling around Hunter’s neck. Blood instantly coated his hand. That was good, though. He was still producing blood.