Chapter 5: Headlights in the Snow
The temperature in the cabin dropped ten degrees as the sun dipped entirely below the ridge, leaving the frosted windows black as obsidian. The only light came from the orange glow of the wood stove flickering against the timber beams. I sat fully dressed on the edge of the bed, my boots laced tight, with Eli strapped securely to my chest in the canvas carrier Gabriel had managed to salvage from the trunk of the wrecked sedan.
By the door, Mason was checking the slide of a heavy-framed service pistol, the metallic clack-clack sounding unnaturally loud in the small room.
"We got movement," Mason whispered, his eyes fixed on the narrow strip of window beside the front door. "Two miles out. High beams turned off. Crawling up the ridge road without chains."
Gabriel stood up from the wooden chair by the hearth. He didn't reach for a weapon—he didn't need one, not with the kind of cold, methodical authority he carried like a second skin. He walked to the window, sliding his fingers against the wooden frame to peer through a clear spot melted by the radiator.
"Julian's security detail," Gabriel said, his voice flat and devoid of surprise. "They use military surplus transport. Heavy, slow, but they don't stop for snow."
"They'll be at the gate in five minutes," Mason said, sliding the magazine home with a sharp click. "We go out the back through the root cellar, or we hold the line here."
I stood up, the old familiar panic threatening to tighten my chest, but I forced the air down into my lungs, keeping my movements deliberate. I looked at Gabriel's back—the broad shoulders under the dark suit, the steady, unyielding stance that matched Mason's guard. The contrast between the polished world he came from and the dark, violent reality he had stepped into for our sake was absolute.
Gabriel turned around. His eyes found mine in the dim orange light, fierce and protective, yet steady as stone.
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"They want to play this in the shadows," Gabriel said softly, buttoning his suit jacket with two precise movements. "Let's see how they like the light."
He stepped toward the bed, offering his hand to me. I took it, feeling the hard, warm grip of his fingers as we moved toward the dark hallway together.
