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)
The back door to the UTV swung open, and Lukas hopped inside, rocking the entire craft. He leaned forward between the two seats. “These aren’t as much fun as snowmobiles. We only have about ten, but Vero assured me that many more are on the way since we’ve decided to settle here permanently. We have some UTVs coming too.”
Lyrica had been too busy surviving her kidnapping, and then making a difference during the last few weeks by helping to free any of the women who wanted to return to their lives. She hadn’t had the chance to explore.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced around at the jagged, white-capped mountains still visible through the storm arriving with dusk. Peering forward, she could barely make out the river flowing beneath crags of ice. A shiver ran down her spine. “Have your people always lived in cold areas like this? Because of your aversion to the sun?”
Jonathan flicked on the lights, pressed down on the gas pedal, and started them down what Lyrica considered the main drag of the territory. “Yes. We used to live underground quite a bit.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Really? Like in tunnels?”
He chuckled. “No, more like cities beneath the earth. Pretty plush. We had one headquarters on the Oregon coast where all our windows looked out at the bottom of the sea. It was delightful—until the Realm bombed us, of course.”
“Of course.” Her gaze followed the distant mountains. “It must be strange to be allies with somebody you fought against your entire life.” Jonathan had to be a couple of hundred years old.
“It really is,” he admitted, chewing on his lip.
The oversized UTV provided plenty of space for Jonathan’s large frame. Lyrica glanced up at the ceiling, noting how much taller it was than any other vehicle she’d seen. It made sense, considering the average height for a Kurjan male was six foot seven or eight. Jonathan matched the description perfectly.
Outside, several people worked to build additional stockpiles of food and weapons. “This is rather exciting.” She wondered what spring would bring to such a remote territory. “I thought the Canadian government owned most of the land in the country. How did you all obtain ownership of this piece?”
Jonathan grinned. “Kurjans have been around much longer than most governments. We currently own twenty square acres, though we’re only using ten. We purchased most of the land from defunct logging and railroad companies, but we already had a stake in it before that. I’m not sure where the original stake came from.”
She sank back into the warm seat, her tender thighs protesting just enough to catch her breath in her throat. Her mind flashed back to the night with Vero and her chest tightened. Enough of that. She shifted to look at Lukas, who sat quietly in the back seat, his bulk taking up more than half of it. “So, you’ve grown up in Canada?”
“Yeah. I’m seventeen, and the Kurjans moved to Canada quite a while ago. Unfortunately, both of my parents perished in a skirmish with the demon nation when I was only five. Relatives raised me.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, though the slight downturn of his mouth said otherwise.
Her heart ached for him. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s a common story these days, but maybe now that we’re at peace, that will change.” He stared out at the snow, his voice quiet.
She hoped so. Some of her friends had chosen to stay with the nation, and she wanted them to have long, fulfilling lives.
Lukas leaned forward again. “I saw pictures of New York City. Is it really that jam-packed? I mean, are buildings right next to each other like that?”
“It is,” she replied. “Some parts of New York are more rural, and they even have farms in different parts of the state, but the cities are like you see on TV. There’s a lot of activity and excitement, and everything’s open twenty-four hours.”
His eyes lit up. “You can get a donut at two in the morning?”
“You can get anything you want at two in the morning. But yeah, donuts are a safe bet.” She warmed to the subject. “And pizza.”
He planted his hands on his knees. “Pizza. Yeah, we’ve had that a few times. I like it. Not as much as Glacier Ale, though.”
“What’s your favorite?” she asked, hoping to keep him talking. Building a good relationship with him would help both him and Genevieve make better decisions for their young lives.
“Oh, definitely pepperoni,” he said. “Although the sausage was good too.” He smacked Jonathan on the shoulder. “I ate several pizzas with Glacier Ale, and it was perfect. Much better than soda. We tried that too.”
Lyrica had tried Glacier Ale several times, and the pale drink always tasted delicious. The Kurjans must have invented it back in the Stone Age and still infused it with rare cold-water herbs like juniper or even Arctic thyme. Each bottle she drank tasted a little different from the last.