Mission: Her Protection (Team 52 #1)

She tugged on the bottom shelf, but it wouldn’t budge. “Come on, come on.”

That inhuman roar came again, chilling her blood.

Rowan put her foot against the cabinet and yanked. The shelf came loose.

She almost lost her balance, but caught herself and tossed the shelf onto the floor. She launched herself into the tiny confines of the cabinet. With shaking hands, she pulled the doors closed. She couldn’t quite get the last one shut, so she left it slightly ajar. With a silent prayer, she hoped whatever it was that was tearing up the camp wouldn’t notice.

Rowan waited, her pulse pounding in her ears. As soon as she could, she needed to get back to her office. She had a pistol and several rifles locked up in there. She also needed to get a mayday call out and, once she was armed, go and help her people.

Now, the only sound she heard was her own racing heartbeat. It had to be a polar bear. But she didn’t think a bear had killed Marc. Even though his chest had been slashed, he was frozen.

A shadow moved on the other side of the lab and Rowan stopped breathing.

Holding her breath, she watched the shadow move across the lab. Then it resolved into a slim figure with a blonde ponytail. Rowan’s shoulders sagged. Emily.

Rowan was just about to push the cabinet doors open, when Emily spun, gasping.

“No,” Emily cried.

A blur of white. The thing moved so fast that Rowan couldn’t tell what it was. It launched itself at Emily.

There was a crash and Emily screamed. Rowan slammed open the doors and surged out. “Emily!”

There was a blur again, and the thing raced into a tunnel with Emily over its shoulder.

It was no polar bear. Whatever this thing was, it walked upright on two legs.

Chest heaving, Rowan searched for a weapon. She emptied out drawers, trying to stay calm and not let the sob in her chest break free.

“Dammit.” There was nothing useful in this lab. Her gaze fell on a broom leaning against the wall. She snatched it up and snapped the bristled end off. Hefting the wooden stick, she knew it wasn’t much, but until she reached her office, it would have to do.

Emily needed her.

Rowan moved as quietly as she could. She stepped into the tunnel leading to the second lab. The air in the base was frigid now, her breath causing tiny puffs in front of her. The lights were still on, so the power was still functioning, but she wasn’t sure what had happened to the heating system. Maybe the thing had torn a hole in one of the domes.

She reached the end of the tunnel and peered into the second lab. Benches were lined up in neat rows. Nothing moved. Where was Emily?

Then Rowan saw the bodies.

Her stomach rolled and she raced forward. No. Dr. Spencer, Dr. Chan, and Dr. Petrov all lay sprawled on the floor. Amara was hanging over an overturned stool.

They were all frozen. Rowan touched their skin, her hand shaking. Icy. God. She shuddered, filled with hot panic and welling rage. A layer of ice covered their hair. Amara’s shirt was torn open and Rowan could see the woman’s veins under her skin. They weren’t blue-green, they were blue-white, like her blood was frozen.

Rowan had to get to her office. She needed to make a mayday call and find a weapon.

She turned and strode out, the broom handle gripped high. She also needed to find Emily, Isabel, Lars, and the rest of her team.

Reaching her office dome, Rowan made her way to the comms room. She was shivering now, but she gritted her teeth against the cold. She inched inside the room, searching for any sign of movement.

Samuel Malu was slumped on the floor by the communications computer. Grief hit her like a tidal wave. The Nigerian scientist had been soft-spoken and smart, with a sense of humor she’d enjoyed. Rowan crouched and closed the man’s eyes. He too, was coated in ice, and the comms equipment was smashed. She prayed that the sweet, smart man had gotten a message out.

Whether help was coming or not, she was the expedition leader. She straightened. It was her team, and her responsibility to keep them safe.

She made it to her office and the storage locker on the far wall. She punched in the code on the pad. The doors opened, and Rowan quickly grabbed a pistol. She checked the Glock, loaded it with ammunition, then closed the locker door.

When she turned, she noted the base heating controls on a wall panel. The lights were all on and a steady green. The system was working. She shivered again. Clearly whatever had attacked them had caused a breach.

She left her office, moving stealthily along the wall. She needed to find Emily and the others.

Moments later, she arrived back in the rec dome. It was still empty, half eaten meals still sitting on the tables and a few chairs overturned. God, had it only been an hour ago that she’d sat here talking with her excited team? She noticed a small circle of something clear and gleaming in the center of one table. With a frown, she touched it. Cold. Water.

She looked up.

Her stomach revolted. “Oh, no. Emily.”

Her young friend hung, suspended from the ceiling of the dome, encased in a web of ice that held her in place. Her eyes were clouded over, her mouth open in a scream. One slender arm was held out and frozen in place, like she was fending someone—or something—off.

Rowan pressed a hand to her mouth, bile a bitter taste in her throat.

Emily was dead, too. God, was anyone else left alive, besides her?

Fear and grief made Rowan’s chest tight. She could barely draw a breath. The entire base was silent now, and a voice in her head murmured that it was likely her entire team was dead.

Fuck that. Rowan lifted her handgun. She strode down to the final dome—the living quarters.

She reached the door. The lights were flickering, and when she took a step forward, she saw the bodies lying on the beds.

Nausea punched through her. She saw Isabel and the rest of her team.

They were all dead.

Isabel. No! The woman had fought back against her attacker, and was lying near an overturned bunk. Her dark hair was stark against her icy skin.

Rowan took a shaky step backward and bumped into a chair. It teetered, before crashing to the floor.

The sound was so loud. She froze.

Then she heard that same animal roar reverberate through the domes.

Shit. Rowan turned and ran. She sprinted blindly through the tunnels and domes. Where to go? If she went out on the ice, she was as good as dead. If she stayed in here, she’d end up like the rest of her team.

Without conscious thought, Rowan ended up back in the first lab. She looked around frantically.

Then she heard heavy breathing and the scrape of something on the floor.

It was coming.

She scanned the dome and went very still, searching the room. Nothing. She couldn’t see whatever the hell it was.

A footstep. Another.

It was coming from the opposite tunnel.

Rowan aimed her pistol. Her hands shook wildly. But the instinct to hide was too strong. Swallowing a cry, her gaze fell on the cabinet she’d hid in earlier. She dived back into it, and pulled the doors shut. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely manage to close the damn doors.

This time, they closed all the way.

She gripped the pistol in front of her, her breaths shuddering in and out of her lungs.

Rowan couldn’t see anything, but suddenly, she felt the temperature drop another couple of degrees, and she heard the heavy footsteps outside her hiding place.

Whatever the thing was, it had just entered the lab.



*

Lachlan Hunter strode down the Las Vegas sidewalk. In the distance, the glow from the casinos lit up the sky, and he could almost feel the pulse of energy from the Strip.

But tonight, he had no desire for noise, light, or people. They’d just gotten back from a mission. He was pretty sure some of his team would hit the casinos and clubs to blow off some steam, but all Lachlan wanted was a decent steak, a beer, and some sleep.

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