Shane crested a hill, then downshifted and slowed as a mountain of snow appeared in the road ahead. “Could be a stalled car, maybe even fallen trees,” he told her. “We’ll have to go off-road.”

“All right.” His truck seemed more than capable of handling the rough terrain, which was nothing short of a miracle to Nadia. Some tribes embraced technology and fought to restore and improve upon the luxuries that had been available before the endless winter, but her enclave was dominated by traditionalists who valued magic over machine.

The first two hours of the drive had been nerve-racking, but Shane had politely ignored the way she clutched the seat, and she’d gradually grown accustomed to the rumble of the engine and their slow but steady pace. “Your vehicle is very efficient. And your house was comfortable. I was always led to believe humans struggled to survive this far north.”

The safety belt tightened around her as the truck dipped off the shoulder, but Shane remained calm. Confident. “There are some places where it’s like that, but small settlements like Hamilton are simple. If everyone does his part, everyone has enough.”

It sounded almost peaceful, especially compared to the tempestuous life she’d left behind. “It’s like that in the south too. After the quakes started, many of us came together. The tribes—they didn’t really exist before then. Not before the elders brought us out of hiding.”

“I’ve heard the stories.”

The stories rarely painted her people in a good light. “Do you believe we’re to blame?”

Shane shrugged one shoulder. “Does it matter? The earth shifted, things changed. It doesn’t matter to me why. We have to live with it either way.”

If she touched the back of her neck, she’d feel the tender spot where the collar they’d fixed there had shocked her. Fear had driven them to it, the certainty she would use her magic to destroy them, because that was what witches did. “I don’t think it should matter. But it does, to some people.”

“Yes, it does.” The truck lurched again and evened out, the engine rumbling as Shane pressed the accelerator.

He fell silent, and Nadia bit her lip against the urge to pick a new topic, to press conversation in order to hide her nerves. Instead she turned to look out the window, at the endless leagues of pure white snow. Even bundled in layers and snug in the relative warmth of the truck’s cab, the sight made her shiver.

Or maybe it was the chill that lingered inside her. The day of the solstice had passed in a blur, her only clear memory the warmth of Shane’s body curled around hers. That sensation had followed her into fitful dreams, where she was strong and alive and he liked the way she touched his skin, the way she kissed him and curled close.

Not something to ponder closely, not when they’d be squeezing into the tiny camper tonight, in quarters too close for her own good. Nadia cleared her throat and fixed her gaze on the trees to their right, a line of young pines that formed a bright splash of green on the unending white of the horizon. “You said you know of some hot springs on our path south?”

“There’s a whole system of them down near the river.” At her blank look, he said, “The Payette River, around Grandjean.”

Her knowledge of geography was sadly limited to her own territory. “How long would it take to reach them? If it’s not out of the way… Well, visiting them may not help me, but it can’t hurt.”

“Depends on the roads. We might reach them in time to stop for the night.”

“All right.” She’d never tried to pull energy from the earth so close to a volcanic zone. The heat of the magma might keep the earth from freezing, but the power would likely be different. Perhaps dangerous.

But no more dangerous than the weakness that made her beyond helpless.

Shane glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”

Dulled by the cold or not, his senses were werewolf sharp. “There are places where magic runs peacefully. A hot spring strong enough to survive in this climate? It’s not peaceful. It’s wild.”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “I can keep it under control. You don’t have to be scared.”

“Keep wh—” Her teeth snapped together, and she cursed herself as a fool. “No. No, that’s not it, Shane. It’s me. I’m a reflection of the earth beneath my feet every bit as much as you are. It’s worth the risk for one night, but I wouldn’t want to linger. I can’t promise I’ll be entirely myself if all the power inside me comes from volcanic earth.”

Some of his tension eased, but not much. “We’ll both have to be careful.”

“I won’t hurt you,” she whispered, “and it will fade quickly. But it will give me the strength to last to the border, I hope.”

He reached out and patted her hand awkwardly. “We’ll be fine.”

The gesture was earnest enough to curve her lips in a smile she hid by turning her head again. As gruff as he could be, gentleness shone through in the way he handled her, the way he offered comfort to a relative stranger. Regardless of his protestations, she knew that made him unusual.

Shane Sullivan was an exceptional man, whether he believed it or not. Perhaps she could find a way to make him believe it before they parted ways. Nothing so tangible as monetary payment, but maybe just as valuable.

***

The springs south of Twin Falls had always been there, or so the old-timers in Hamilton had told Shane.

At one point, when such places were uncommon in other parts of the States, those springs had drawn tourists to southern Idaho. Back then, there had been several hundred springs in the state. Less than half had bubbled up at low enough temperatures not to boil a person’s flesh clean off.

Now, there were three times as many hot springs, and it was the rare one that could scald, much less kill. But the areas around the springs felt different. Not warmer, not exactly—a quick glance at a thermometer would disprove that—but stronger.

Different.

Shane threw his cooling coffee on the ground. It hissed and soaked down, staining the snow. “You want more before I kill the fire?”

“Mmm.” Not quite an answer, but Nadia barely seemed able to focus on him this morning. She sat on the tailgate of the truck with her eyes closed.

Her skin was flushed, even in the cold, and there had been times during the night when her body had trembled against his. Whatever magic dwelled here in the hot earth, Nadia could feel it.

So could he.

She wet her lips, and her eyes drifted open, revealing endless pupils enclosed by a narrow brown ring. Her shallow, too-quick breaths and the unsteady thump of her heart erased any innocence in her sleepy, curious gaze.

Fever washed over him in a wave of heat, and he knew he had to lock it down. Now. “Nadia.”

The tip of her tongue dragged over her full lower lip again, and her gaze fixed on his throat. “I think I’m ready to leave.”

She’d have to be, whether she liked it or not. “We’ve got a lot of miles to cover.”

Nadia closed her eyes and slipped from the tailgate with a grace he hadn’t seen in her before. “I’m feeling much better…but not very like myself.”

“Everything’s waking up.”

“Yes, it is.” She stretched, arching up on her toes with her head thrown back, the early-morning sun bright on her face in spite of the biting cold. “I know I should conserve my energy. I’ll need it to survive before we reach the border. But I’m so full. I want to do something.”

She was lovely like this, free and primal, almost wild. “Like what?”

Laughter filled the space between them, warm and low, the sound its own caress. “I could show you fireworks.”

It sounded too much like an invitation, especially with the fever simmering in his blood. “Fireworks?”

Nadia brought her hands together in front of her. A whispered word and the currents around them began to spin in a wide, lazy arc, as if she was drawing the earth into her. A dazzling light kindled above her palms, a flame that twisted into a perfect sphere, refracting hundreds of colors.

It hung, suspended above her mittens, and her sudden smile was brilliant. “Sometimes, at home, I throw these into the air for the children. They’re so beautiful when they explode.”

Shane found himself laughing, charmed as much by her smile as by the disarmingly frivolous display of power. “I thought you said you were a warrior.”

Her smile faded. “If I threw this into a person, it would explode then too. And it wouldn’t be beautiful at all.”

A harsh reminder, one he shouldn’t have needed. Shane poured another cup of coffee and held it out. “We’ve got to get moving.”

She whispered another word and snapped her hands together. When they parted, there was no trace of magic. “Thank you,” she said quietly, accepting the cup. It looked awkward, cradled between hands encased in oversize mittens, but she just turned and started toward the front of the truck.

He’d upset her. He should have gone to her, tried to explain that it wasn’t her he was afraid of so much as himself.

Instead he tossed the rest of the coffee, rinsed the pot and stowed their supplies in the back of the truck. The fire had died to embers, and Shane piled snow on top. He watched as it melted and hissed, then shoveled the remains around until nothing warm was left.

***

They passed a small town close to the border, but Shane didn’t dare stop. Newcomers were rarely welcomed, and plenty of their supplies remained. Later, he might have to risk it, but for now…

Nadia stared out the window. Shane touched her shoulder. “Tell me more about the Nine Tribes. Where you’re from.”

She stirred slowly. The farther they’d traveled from the hot springs, the more subdued she’d become. Not ill or weak like she’d been before, but quieter. Even her voice seemed soft, hardly more than a whisper. “Each of the tribes is different. I was born near the sea. The elders call it the Gulf of California.”

He’d never heard of it, though he recognized the name. California, from the time before. “Do the tribes get along?”

“Some of them. Sometimes. My tribe has been at war with the Fifth since I was a little girl.” Her gaze fell to the bright mittens covering her hands. A coffee stain showed from where she’d spilled earlier. “We were trading partners before that, but they’ve begun to use technology again. They think our magic is sacred and should be saved for important things, not used to power vehicles or bring in the harvest. So we fight.”

It sounded reasonable, though he could see both sides of the argument. “Guess they can’t just move north and integrate with the humans.” Even if people would welcome them, it would be as dangerous for any witch as this trip had been for Nadia.

“No.” Her head turned, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught her studying him. “No more than werewolves can live in the south.”

“Right.” He’d grown so used to pretending that wasn’t him, who he was, that hearing her say it still jarred him. “Some things can’t be helped, I guess.”

“How did you become—” The words cut off, and she blushed. “I’m sorry. My mentor used to tell me they always knew I was destined to become a warrior. I have the subtlety of a rockslide.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” She turned to stare out the window again. “I’m not the first soldier in my family,” she said, the words a clear—if clumsy—attempt to change the subject. “I’m the fourth generation to specialize in battle magic. My great-grandmother was there when the quakes started. She died saving hundreds of humans during the first wave of evacuations from Yellowstone.”

It sounded like the kind of story people would tell over drinks or maybe a campfire, tales of long-dead heroes bound to them by lineage and blood. “What was her name?”

“Allison.” Nadia’s voice softened. “My grandmother was just a little girl. She lost both of her parents before it was over, and was raised as a ward of the Second Tribe.”

“So that’s you? Second Tribe?”

“Yes.”

But her voice had wavered. “You don’t sound so sure.”

“My sister…” She swallowed. “I have a sister. She’s younger than I am, only twenty-two this year. She wasn’t a fighter, but she fell in love with one. A prisoner of war, from the Fifth Tribe.”

Shane gripped the wheel. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not a secret. Not among my people.” Pain shredded her voice. “I could have gone with her and kept her safe. But I stayed and tried to prove I was loyal. I dedicated my life to my tribe, and I don’t know if I have a home to go back to. I don’t know if I was betrayed or just…eliminated.”

Anger flooded him in an instinctive rush. “That’s not right.” Not right at all—and no different than what might happen to him in Hamilton if the townspeople found out he was a werewolf.

“No, it’s not right.” She crossed her arms over her body in a protective gesture. “When I asked you to bring me to the border, I’d thought I might look for my sister instead. I left so much behind, but I don’t know if going back is worth the risk. If the elders approved of my elimination, they’ll simply kill me. They would have expected it to happen by now, in any case. The scientists knew they would have a few months, at most, before I died.”

“Do you have any idea where she might have settled?”

Nadia’s sudden laugh was pained. “No. I’m not a very good older sister, am I?”

It was damn hard to find someone in the borderland when they weren’t on the run from anything or anyone. “There are some people I can ask. Old friends.”

She drew in a deep breath like she was trying to regain control. “I appreciate the offer, but I know you’ll be uncomfortable trying to stay on the border. You’re doing plenty.”

“Won’t take long.” And now he had to explain. “I grew up near the border.”

“Oh. I see.”

Did she? “My dad grew up outside of Hamilton. When I came back and built my house there, no one really thought anything of it.”

Her eyebrows came together. “So…your mother was from the border region?”

“My father traveled through her settlement. He ended up staying.”

“Do you still have family there?”

Just like that, she laid bare his pain. No matter. He’d invited it. “No. They’re all gone now.”

Her fingers brushed his leg in a soft, tentative touch. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t want her pity. Didn’t want to want her touch. “No big deal. Happens to everyone sooner or later, right?”

“I suppose it does.” A brief hesitation. “I’m not very good at this, am I? Small talk.”

“That makes two of us, then, Nadia.”

She tucked her hand back against her body. “We’re making good time,” she said after an awkward pause. “Aren’t we? It seems like we’re traveling so far.”

“Good time,” he agreed. Whether that would continue was anyone’s guess. Some of these roads had barely been passable during the normal winters that prevailed when they’d been built. With worse conditions and no regular maintenance, it was impossible to tell what lay beyond the next bend.