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Arctic Bite
By N.J. Walters

Copyright © 2020 by N.J. Walters. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Prologue

Cassandra held out her hand and beckoned. “Come with me.” She ignored the crushing sadness that bled from the woman. It was a drawback of the job that she could sense every emotion from whoever she approached.

The woman looked around, a bewildered expression on her face. “What’s happening?” She looked down at her feet, saw her body lying there, and took a startled step back.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help.” That was her job, her purpose. And she was damn good at it. Why, then, did her heart clutch a little tighter this time?

“Am I dead?” the woman asked.

She ignored the question that they inevitably all asked. There was no point answering. It changed nothing. “Please come with me.” The quicker she finished this job the better. The calm and sense of purpose that had sustained her through the never-ending passage of time was nowhere to be found.

The woman placed both hands behind her back and shook her head in denial. “No. I don’t want to go. This is a bad dream. That’s all it is. I’m not dead. Really, I’m not.”

Something inside her shifted. She could almost hear an audible snap. Sorrow cascaded over her. “I’m truly sorry.” And for the first time in her existence, maybe she was. “There is no going back.” No matter how much she might wish differently. She reached out, gently took the woman by the arm, and led her away from the dark alley and fetid stench of garbage and blood, away from her lifeless form.

The woman’s only crime? Covering a friend’s shift at the restaurant where they both worked so the friend could celebrate an anniversary with her husband. For that, she’d died. A victim of a robbery gone wrong. Simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

That was fate. And she was a bitch.

It was so unfair. But then again, no one ever promised life wouldn’t be.

“There’s so much I have left to do,” the woman murmured. “Fall in love, finish culinary school, get married, have kids.”

She tried to block it out. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard millions of times before.

But this time was different.

Still, she had a job to do. But for the first time, she was reluctant. If only she could turn back the hands of time and warn the woman to stay home. But then her friend would have died, and it wasn’t her time. Stiffening her spine and swallowing back the rage bubbling up inside her, she guided her charge forward. “This is where you need to be.”

A brilliant light shone on the woman. She peered into it and slowly nodded before glancing back over her shoulder. “It’s just not fair.” Then she walked forward and was gone, leaving Cassandra all alone in the dark.

Chapter One

“You gonna order something or are you going to sit there all night and brood?” the sexy bartender asked.

Alexei studied the woman, his intended target.

Her black hair was sleek and cut short. Way shorter than his. But it suited her, framing her exquisite face and making her pretty green eyes stand out. She resembled a fairy princess in a storybook. No, scratch that. She’d be a queen. Definitely a queen.

What had she done to warrant a contract on her life? The details had been way too sparse for his liking. Hell, he didn’t even know exactly what she was—only that she had to be “other” or the client would never have contacted the Brotherhood. Being immortal didn’t mean you couldn’t die. Just that you were damn hard to kill.

“Hello?” She waved her hand in front of his face. He barely suppressed a growl. “What will it be?”

“Whiskey. Leave the bottle.”

Since he couldn’t get drunk—he was too damn big, and his metabolism ran way too fast to allow it—he’d need to drink an entire bottle every five or ten minutes to even get the slightest buzz.

“No can do,” she said with a smile that made his heart skip a beat. “What I can do is keep the drinks coming. Okay?”

“Set up a dozen.”

“Whoa.” She straightened and reached for a bottle. Not the cheap stuff, but the top shelf whiskey. Or at least as top shelf as it got here in a small roadhouse tavern on the outskirts of Nome, Alaska. Still, he had to admit, he was impressed.

“Woman trouble?” she asked.

You have no idea.

He grunted and waited while she set out glasses and poured. Her movements were quick and competent. She didn’t spill a single drop.

“There you go, buddy.”

“Alexei,” he corrected her. He wanted to hear her say his name. “Alexei Medvedev.”

“Russian?”

“Da,” he replied in his native language.

“Okay, Alexei. I’m Cassie Dobbs, and I’ll be pouring your drinks tonight. Enjoy.” She set the bottle back down and headed toward a couple patrons waving for her attention.

He downed the first few shots without pause. The alcohol burned slightly before slowly warming his insides.

Long ago, he’d been nicknamed the Russian Bear. Why? Because he was Russian, and he was a bear. Simple. He preferred things that way.

The woman on the other side of the bar was complicated.

I don’t like complicated.

Not that his life hadn’t been without its challenges. There’d been the incident with a vampire two hundred years ago. It had changed him, morphing his shapeshifting abilities, sharpening them, honing them to a razor’s edge. He survived the attack…barely. Or as he liked to say…bearly. Afterward, he’d been stronger and faster than any other polar shifter.

He also hadn’t aged, hadn’t died.

He was something totally new and unique—a vampire bear, a bear vamp—he had no idea and didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about it. He was a bear with a little something extra.

From his seat, he watched Cassie work, unable to take his eyes off her. The dark blue denim jeans she wore hugged her lush ass. Her long-sleeved top covered everything but left little to the imagination. The woman had curves that would make any grown man fall to his knees and give thanks to whatever deity he worshipped.

The only flash of color came from the dangling earrings she sported in each ear. They were a series of a half dozen silver chains of various lengths, each tipped with a gemstone. When she walked, they swayed and reflected the colors of the rainbow.

His gums tingled, his fangs itching to drop. He snatched up another glass and downed the whiskey, scarcely feeling the bite as he chased it down with two more, trying to drive back the bloodlust stirring inside him.

Another unwanted present from the bastard who’d changed him.

Forcing himself to look away, even though he kinda wanted to keep staring, he spun around on the stool and surveyed the room.

It was typical of this kind of establishment, which existed in every corner of the world. Along with the eight stools in front of the scarred wooden bar, there were a dozen small tables scattered around. The back room had two pool tables, both currently occupied. Country music pumped out from the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. It was a cozy space, a place where everyone knew everyone else.

He was the stranger, so everyone was watching him while trying to pretend otherwise.

He made eye contact with each and every man and woman. None held his stare beyond a couple of seconds, all of them dropping their heads or turning away.

“Stop trying to scare my customers.” He swiveled back around to face Cassie, who seemed more amused than concerned. Her skin was smooth as silk. He longed to stroke it to see if it was as soft as it appeared. This was the kind of woman men wrote songs about. Ones much better than the one currently coming from the jukebox.

“If they’re scared, that’s their problem.” He frowned, which usually sent people scurrying. He’d practiced it in the mirror for days until it had become second nature.

The musical sound of her laughter filled his ears, drowning out all other sound. She picked up the whiskey bottle and refilled the glasses he’d already emptied.

She wasn’t afraid of him. Not in the slightest.

Every muscle in his body tightened. Sexual arousal roared through him.

Do not get attracted to the target.

First rule of being an assassin. It was too easy to allow emotion to cloud judgment and get in the way of doing the job.

“It’s my problem if they leave. That would upset my boss.” She rested her elbows on the counter and leaned forward as she confided in him.

The slightest hint of wildflowers tickled his nose. Nice.

When he did nothing but stare at her, she sighed and patted his hand. The brief contact sent a shock of electricity racing up his arm. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The urge to scoop her up, toss her over his shoulder, and spirit her back to his lair was almost overwhelming.

“Just do what you can. How are you paying? You are paying, right?” When she smiled, the bottom dropped out of his stomach and he forgot how to speak. She was more potent than any whiskey.

He reached into his pocket and drew out a wad of cash. After peeling off five hundreds, he slapped them down on the counter.

Her eyes widened, but she simply took the money and held it up. “I’ll let you know when this runs out. Oh, and I’ll be giving myself a generous tip, just so you know.”

Her audacity made the corners of his mouth twitch. Not only was she smart, she had a wicked sense of humor—a potent combination.

She pointed at him and smiled. “Aha. That was almost not a frown. We’ll get you there.”

Heat crept up his cheeks. He was flustered, a very rare occurrence. He was generally calm and thoughtful. But he was also as curious as any ursine shifter, which was why he was sitting here chatting with her. Call it his need to know, his need to make sure he wasn’t executing someone innocent.

His teeth tingled again.

Best to eat before he did something stupid, like bite her neck to see if her blood was as tasty as he imagined it would be.

“Can I get half a dozen burgers?” He could eat a dozen, but asking for that much food made people uncomfortable. Not that six was much better, but he was hungry. Usually, he’d move around to different restaurants, ordering just slightly larger than normal meals, but there weren’t a whole lot of options up here at this time of night.

Cassie never batted an eyelash. “Sure. I’ll put in the order. You want fries with that?”

“With all of them.” It was always best to be specific.

Now her eyes did widen slightly, and she ran her gaze over his body. “I guess there’s a lot of you to fill.”

He barely resisted the urge to puff out his chest. He hadn’t acted this idiotic around a woman since he’d been an adolescent. And that was a very long time ago.

She put in his meal order and poured several beers for the guys at the pool table in the back.

When she bent over to retrieve more napkins from a cupboard, he downed another glass of the whiskey. And he kept going until they were all empty.

…

Her back was turned, but Cassie knew he was watching her. Her skin prickled in warning. She resisted the urge to check.

Just who was Alexei and why was he here? He wasn’t a regular. She’d worked here long enough to know them all.

At almost seven feet all, all of it solid muscle, he was a mountain masquerading as a man. Unlike everyone else who’d made their way here tonight, he’d walked in wearing nothing more than a heavy sweater and a hat. Not even gloves or a coat. But he hadn’t seemed the least bit cold.

He’d certainly ramped up her heat levels.

She shivered, missing the warmer climes of home. It was one of the reasons she’d picked such a faraway place to settle. Alaska was the last place her family would think to look for her.

And she enjoyed her job…mostly. The people who came to the Final Pit Stop, aka The Pit, were good folks. Sure, some of them got a little rowdy from time to time, blowing off steam, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

She was used to riding herd on folks. It was what she did. Or at least what she’d done until she’d walked away rather than stay in the family business.

“Who is the stranger, Cass?” Buck Saunders was a regular, an older man whose wife had passed and whose children had long since moved to other less remote areas of the country.

“Name is Alexei.” She set a bowl of peanuts in front of him and got him another beer. Buck had the same thing, every evening—two beers. She gave him the nuts for free to help the alcohol settle.

She worried about him. Hell, she didn’t want anything bad to befall anyone who lived here. That would just bring a member of her family, meaning she’d have to run or hide.

She was an ex-reaper. Was there even such a thing? Once a reaper, always a reaper. The first to ever willingly leave the fold. It set a dangerous precedent, one that couldn’t be allowed to stand. If others decided to follow her lead, who would deal with the dead?

It would be a catastrophe.

Her rebellion would have to be squashed, and she would be made an example of, a cautionary tale for the others.

Even knowing all that, she’d still left.

Since the dawn of time, she’d been going to the dead and leading their souls to whatever afterlife awaited them. She never judged. That wasn’t her place. That was predetermined by Death himself and the god or gods of whatever pantheon the person believed in and worshipped. Or in the case of those who didn’t believe in such things, they were Death’s problem to sort out. It was a simple and straightforward system. Efficient.

She was just too tired to do it anymore.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Buck promised her.

“Order up,” the cook called from the back at the same time.

“Thanks.” Although, what the older man could do if Alexei decided to go on a rampage, she didn’t know. But she appreciated the sentiment. No one had ever worried about or looked out for her. She’d been the one taking care of all of them.

After retrieving two of the plates from the pass-through, she headed toward the man at the other end.

“Here you go.” She slid the plates in front of him and went back for the rest. When all his food had been delivered, she stood and stared, unable to help herself.

His eyes were crystal blue, the same color as a pure lake frozen in the winter. She couldn’t see much of his face, covered as it was by a bushy beard and moustache an unusual combination of white and brown. The long hair falling to his shoulders had the same unique shades. It had to be natural. This was not a man who’d dye his hair.

It should have been unkempt, unattractive. But it really worked on him. He could make a fortune modeling. Put his picture next to any product and women would flock to buy it.

“How is it?” she asked after he’d taken a couple of large bites.

“Good,” he told her after he’d finished chewing and swallowed. He wasn’t much of a talker, but that was okay. She didn’t mind carrying the conversation.

It was the curse of her kind to need to be around people. It also made it harder for her to hide from the ones looking for her. She couldn’t exactly run off into the wilderness by herself. Well, she had. That had lasted about two weeks before she’d started growing weaker.

She needed to be around humans in order to keep up her own strength. She wasn’t sure if she siphoned off some of their life force to keep herself going or if it was something else. It seemed more symbiotic to her and less parasitic.

It also hadn’t been something she’d known before. And why would she, since she’d always been on the job?

“Want some?” he asked.

Shit, she’d been simply standing here watching the man eat. How pathetic was that?

When she didn’t immediately answer, he pushed one of the untouched plates toward her. Maybe he thought she was staring at his food and not at him. Yes, she was drooling a little, but not because she was hungry for a burger and fries.

She was attracted to the big stranger. Not smart, but now that the idea had taken root, she couldn’t seem to let it go. Beyond an impersonal pat or hug, she hadn’t dared touch anyone for long, fearful she’d accidentally drain their energy and harm them.

Maybe not a huge risk, but she’d decided not to tempt fate. She’d almost faltered a couple of times but hadn’t come close to pushing her luck. Until now.

Alexei was a big man, brimming with healthy vitality. Surely they could have sex without her hurting him. That was assuming he was even interested. She wasn’t vain enough to imagine every man she met wanted to rip off his clothes and get naked with her.

Although, she had been propositioned by more than a few of the single men who’d come into the place. Buck had laughingly teased that if he was a few years younger, he’d have asked her out. It amused her that he thought he was old enough to be her grandfather—his words, not hers. He had no idea she’d been around since time began. No one here was aware of her true identity, and that was the way it had to stay.

Making a decision, she propped her elbows on the counter and smiled. “So, what brings you to Nome?”