Also by Jami Gray
About the Author
To all those who chose to serve our country and stand tall in the presence ofharsh realities, your sacrifices allow me and mine to enjoy our blessings. My
deepest thanks and may your way home be lit by the love of those who miss you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As with every book I write, there are a great many people who take the time to
respond to my strange questions without calling the authorities. So all my
military, firearm experts, and first responders who took the time to help me out, I
give you a big thank you, and proclaim any errors solely mine.
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CHAPTER 1
P hoenix in July. People called it Mother Nature’s rendition of hell on earth.
They were wrong. Hell existed on the other side of the world, in a
much more treacherous desert. If it let you go, you ran, as long and hard and as
fast as you could to escape.
But sometimes even running didn’t work, I tried. I spent the last six months,
jumping from one remote place to another, chasing wildlife with a camera for a
paycheck. A safer endeavor than chasing two footed monsters.
Unfortunately, there was one thing I couldn’t outrun, family. Or the closest thing to it in my case, Kelsey. Sister by circumstances, not blood, and the only
human on the planet I would consider returning to civilization for. Right now, she should be on her own plane with a group of fellow lawyers for some boring-ass conference. Her words, not mine. Instead, she managed to get a message to
me, despite me being in the wilds of America’s last frontier. Someone was asking questions about me and watching her.
Which meant one disturbing message and eight hours later, I found myself
crammed into the sardine can doubling as a plane. As it rolled to a stop on the
tarmac, I moved into the narrow aisle, squishing between a young mother
holding a squirming toddler, and a heavy set, cranky businessman as we
jockeyed for a place.
Juggling my camera bag while I dug out my cell phone didn’t do much to endear me to my fellow passengers either. Since our flight out of Fairbanks, Alaska had been delayed, everyone wanted off, right now. People were pulling
out bags and resetting their various electronic devices.
Muted conversations swelled around me while the toddler took advantage of
his mother’s inattention to flash me a gap-tooth grin. I wiggled my fingers in return. His grin widened, at least until his mom distracted him with a stuffed toy.
Thumbing my phone’s screen, I discovered seven missed calls and two voice
mails. Nerves tightened.
Numbers scrolled across my incoming call list. The first one held a 619-area
code. Coronado, California. It repeated twice. My stomach lurched and old anger
snarled. I scrolled past it like all the others I’d received in the last few months, and then found the one I needed. It was listed four times.
Damn it!
My stomach roiled.
I hit the icon to retrieve my voicemails, then tucked the phone between my
shoulder and ear. It made pulling my battered backpack from the overhead
compartment tricky. Finally getting it free, I settled the strap on my shoulder, only then able to reclaim my phone.
The awkward juggle allowed me to ignore the strange visual dance of
adverted glances from my fellow passengers. The burn scars curling under my jaw and dripping like delicate lace down my neck before disappearing under my
T-shirt were hard to miss. Hell, even I wasn’t used to them yet.
“Cyn? You need to call me as soon as you land.” Frantic and breathless, I almost didn’t recognize Kelsey’s voice. My fingers tightened on my phone.
“Look, there’s been a change of plans. I’m heading north to hole up and wait for
