Chapter 20

"I found us a case," Dean announced when I got home one evening.

"What've you got?" I asked as I sat at the breakfast bar and watched him fill two bowls from the large pots on the stove.

"Coq a vin," he said in response to my questioning glance as he set a bowl of braised chicken, mushrooms, onions, carrots, and celery over egg noodles in front of me. He then continued, "People have been disappearing during the winter up on a mountain at a fancy resort in Darby, Montana since the early 'seventies. The victims all went missing on snowy nights, and the few bodies that've been found were frozen solid. Usually only one or two people vanish every coupla years, but this winter there've been seven victims already.

"The owners and managers of the resort, Triple Creek Ranch, are in a panic 'cause people are cancelling reservations over this. They got no fucking clue what's going on—they think it's a bear or some stupid shit like that. But witnesses over the years have reported seeing a tall, beautiful young Japanese woman with long white hair, violet eyes, pale skin, and blue lips, dressed in a lightweight white kimono, in the area where the meat popsicles turn up. I looked up the lore on yokai and oni, and it looks like we're dealing with a yuki-onna."

I gave my husband an impressed look. People often took in Dean's colloquial manner of speaking, skill with manual and mechanical things, and professed lack of interest in intellectual pursuits and assumed that he was the less intelligent of the two of us. They tended to forget that he was just as versed in lore as I was, and that just because he didn't like research didn't mean he wasn't good at it.

"So what's a Japanese spirit doing in the Rocky Mountains? And why the sudden increase in body count?" I wondered.

"I checked into that too. Seems a Japanese couple moved into a cabin high up on that mountain right after World War II," he replied. "Lived there quietly for years until the old man died of cancer in the late 'sixties. His wife stayed on by herself until a huge fucking snowstorm hit in the winter of 'seventy-two. When the people from town were finally able to dig out the area, they found her frozen to death near the cabin. They buried her there, and the first yuki-onna sighting was a coupla years later.

"As for the ramp-up in vics lately, it turns out that the resort wanted to expand and started digging up the area where the old couple's cabin used to be. I figure the dumbasses musta disturbed her grave and pissed her off, so now she's on a goddamn killing spree. So we gotta find the grave and salt 'n burn her bones."

"That's right—according to the lore, the yuki-onna is basically just a type of ghost," I said. "Do we know where the grave site is?"

"The exact location of her grave ain't recorded anywhere, but the location of the cabin is. Plus we know where the developers dug around, so it's gotta be around there," he answered. "It shouldn't take too long to find the grave using EMF. And as long as it's still daylight, the spirit shouldn't come after us 'til we start digging."

"Sounds great, dude! I don't have any papers or tests due for a couple of weeks, so taking a few days off shouldn't be a problem."

"It gets even better, man. Ya know how I said the people running the resort are fucking desperate to get this taken care of ASAP? Well, when I told the manager that we specialized in 'unusual' cases like this, he insisted on giving us a reward. Since I'd mentioned you were my husband as well as my partner, and since V-Day is just around the corner, the resort is offering us one of their romantic getaway packages free of charge. It's four nights in one of their luxury cabins, with meals, drinks, and activities included. Whaddya think of that?" He grinned enthusiastically.

I never gave much thought before to what Dean used to refer to as "unattached drifter Christmas," other than momentary disgust at his horndog behavior. Jess didn't care for the holiday, and after her death there were more important things to worry about. I was embarrassed now though—this would be our first Valentine's Day together, and I'd completely forgotten about it.

"I'm so sorry, Dee," I said miserably. "I totally didn't think about doing anything this year."

"Don't sweat it, kiddo. I wasn't sure if I should make a big deal 'bout it myself," he reassured me. "Then this fell in our lap, so it all worked out. I figure we'll drive to the resort on Friday, and then Saturday do the interviews and search for the grave. If we find it quickly, we'll have a coupla days left to enjoy ourselves before heading home on Tuesday."

"What about the furry kids?" I asked.

"I'm gonna ask Myra if she'll house-sit while we're gone. She loves animals but can't get a cat or dog of her own 'cause Anne's allergic to everything. She'll be great with Hannibal and Astrid," my brother replied.

That settled, I let my professors know that I would be gone for at least three days so that I could get the lecture notes and reading assignments in advance, as well as prepare materials and find a substitute for my TA class. Dean talked to Collin about being out for the same amount of time and to Myra, who was more than happy to watch our pets.

On Friday, we left early in the morning and arrived at the Triple Creek Ranch that evening. After conferring briefly with the manager, we were directed a little further up the mountain to the Big Sky cabin, which was the only cabin on this side of the resort. We parked the Impala in front, walked up onto the wraparound deck, and entered the cabin.

Inside was the living room, which had a wet bar with a mini-fridge and Keurig machine and a desk built along two of the walls, and a sofa, armchair, and coffee table arranged in front of a wood-burning fireplace. A small table and two chairs under a large TV stood in the opening between the living room and bedroom. The bedroom contained a king-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser and led into the bathroom, which housed separate sinks and toilets to either side of a double steam shower more than big enough for the two of us. Sliding doors in the living room and bedroom opened onto the main part of the deck, which had an outdoor dining set, lounge chairs, and a hot tub. The décor was meant to look rustic, with log walls, heavy wood furniture, and Western art.

We brought our bags into the bedroom and unpacked a little. I then went into the bathroom to wash up. When I came out, Dean wandered in from the living room, chewing on something.

"Hey man, check these out!" He held a chocolate bonbon to my lips, which I bit into. "There's a whole plate of these and a bottle of champagne as part of the package, I guess. I put 'em in the fridge until later. The bar is totally stocked and also has cookies and fruit and shit if we get the munchies."

Once he'd cleaned up as well, we walked down to the Main Lodge for dinner. The food in the Dining Room as nearly as good as what we'd had on our honeymoon—an appetizer course of grilled prawns, followed by Caesar salads, then salmon for me and ribeye for him, and finished with panna cotta for dessert. Afterward, we sought out the manager again.

Walter Li, a portly and normally genial man who now looked haggard, shook our hands and led us into his office. "Agent Clarke, Agent Taylor, thank you so much for coming so quickly! We simply can't afford for another of our guests to . . . get hurt. And we're due for another snowfall in three days! We were originally hoping it was a rabid bear or something similar, but the FBI wouldn't be involved if these were just wild animal attacks, right?"

"No, given the lack of wounds on any of the recovered bodies, it's highly unlikely that an animal is the culprit," Dean said. "One of your employees and a few guests have reported seeing a young woman in the area of the disappearances, correct? Are any of those guests here?"

"One of them, Mr. Warrington, is still on site," Li responded anxiously. "But the resort doesn't want any of our guests alarmed any further, and—"

"We understand your concerns and will do our best to be discreet," I interrupted smoothly. "But it's imperative that we locate this young woman. She may be a key witness or even involved somehow. So we'll need to interview your employee and Mr. Warrington first thing in the morning tomorrow."

"We'll also need to go up the mountain to investigate the locations where the victims were last seen," Dean continued. "Given the conditions up there, we'd appreciate any assistance you can give us."

"We can provide snowmobiles that can take you most of the way up and then snowshoes to travel the rest of the distance," the manager said. "If you need someone to guide you, I can send one of our activities coordinators with you too."

"That won't be necessary. We don't want to worry about their safety or have them inadvertently contaminate a crime scene. I understand there's no cell service here though, so do you have long-range walkie-talkies in case we need to contact the resort?" I asked.

He nodded. "Of course. We'll give you a set of those tomorrow with the snowmobiles. Is there anything else you need?"

"We should be good for now, but we'll let you know if that changes," Dean replied.

"About this package you're offering us," I said. "The agency normally doesn't allow us to accept remuneration of any kind, but—"

"But since we have to stay here anyway, we're very grateful for the gift," the other hunter finished.

Li waved his hand. "Think nothing of it! If you can apprehend whoever's doing this soon, it'll be worth far more than that to our business."

We returned to our cabin, where we checked and packed the gear we'd need the next day. We were both fairly beat by then, so we called it a night. We'd save the champagne and chocolates and testing the steam shower together for after the yuki-onna had been dealt with.

Our interviews the following morning with Ernest Warrington, a rather pompous rancher from Wyoming, and Consuela Alvarez, one of the activities coordinators, confirmed what we already knew but didn't provide any new information. We then loaded up the snowmobiles and took off towards the yuki-onna's old cabin. We were able to make it more than halfway up the mountain before the slope became too rocky for the snowmobiles to traverse.

Dean pulled out a map and spread it on his snowmobile's seat after we'd parked them. "Okay, here's 'bout where we are now. The cabin is less than a mile further up, and you can see it's almost smack dab in the middle of where people have been going missing. From what I could tell from the plans I looked at, the developers and surveyors dug in this area around the cabin site. So our grave should be somewhere in there." He pointed at each marked spot as he mentioned them.

"From what Consuela told us, no one's been up this far in a while, so we'll have to break our own trail. Which means it'll take at least an hour to reach that cabin," I commented.

"Well, we ain't getting any closer just standing here, so let's go!"

As expected, the trek up to the cabin was long and arduous. The snow was about three feet deep most of the way but got as much as five feet deep in places. We used our telekinesis and pyrokinesis to soften and move some of the drifts out of the way, but it still wasn't an easy trip by any means. We had to stop and rest for several minutes once we reached our destination.

Once I'd managed to catch my breath, I took a look around. All that was left of the old cabin, which was suspiciously not buried like everything else, were the foundations, chimney, and a couple partial walls. The area around it was mostly clear of trees, with a few orange-tipped surveying stakes poking out of the snow.

I tapped my brother on the shoulder. "Notice the cabin?"

"Huh! It ain't buried in three feet of white shit! Yeah, that ain't fucking weird at all," he said sarcastically.

"It may make finding her grave easier, if it's also clear of snow," I pointed out.

We pulled out our EMF readers and fanned out, scanning the clearing and looking for other anomalies in the snow. We each carried a shotgun loaded with rock salt and an iron poker as well—just because the yuki-onna attacked at night didn't mean she couldn't manifest during the day, and ghosts were notoriously tenacious about guarding their burial sites.

After exploring the area for about ten minutes, Dean gave a shout and waved me over. He was standing next one of the few trees in the clearing, one that was fairly close to the wood's edge. At the tree's base, between two large roots, was a three-by-six-foot area free of snow. Both of our EMF meters went crazy when passed over this patch of ground.

"Yahtzee! I think it's pretty obvious we hit paydirt here," he said. "We don't hafta dig away the snow, but the ground's still frozen solid."

I responded, "I should be able to take care of that."

I crouched down, held my hands over the grave, and concentrated. After a couple of minutes, the dirt over the grave began to steam. Once I thawed the ground to a foot or so deep, we took turns digging, using both muscles and powers. I thawed the soil again, we dug some more, and then rinsed, lathered, and repeated. We'd gotten about four feet down when the temperature suddenly plummeted. As I watched my breath condense in the bottom of the pit, I heard the other hunter cry out a warning, followed by a blast from his sawed-off shotgun.

"I think she's more than a little pissed, man!" the other hunter called down to me. "If she gets past me, don't let her touch you!"

"Don't worry—I remember the lore. You be careful up there too!" I replied.

We continued to burrow down, trading places about every foot's depth. I was standing guard up top while he was digging below when the air around me abruptly turned freezing cold. I spun around and found myself almost nose-to-nose with the yuki-onna. Her white hair flew wildly around her head, her violet eyes glowed heatedly, and her lovely features contorted with rage as she reached toward me.

I leapt back out of reach and brought up my shotgun, then swore viciously as it jammed. Before I could switch to the poker, I went flying through the air. I connected headfirst with a nearby stump and groaned loudly. I groggily tried to sit up and felt wetness when I put a hand to the back of my head.

I vaguely heard my name shouted and another shotgun blast shortly after, followed by the whoosh of a large fire igniting and an unearthly scream. My husband then rushed over to me, his face pale and worried. He knelt beside me and propped me up against his legs, then carefully checked the wound.

I gotcha, baby boy. Gimme a second, and this hard head of yours will be good as new, he murmured. Warmth spread out under his hands as he finished speaking, and the pain in my skull ceased, the ringing in my ears silenced, and the fog over my thoughts cleared.

I sat up on my own and shook my head. God, that's so much better! Thanks, Dee. I take it you fried the bitch?

Yep, she's extra crispy now. You rest here until all the Tweety-birds go away, and I'll fill in the grave. He stood, rested his hand on the top of my head for a moment, and then walked back to the burning hole.

From how little time it took for him to return, I deduced that he pushed the dirt back into the pit via his TK. He handed me a metal thermos, which was full of hot coffee. While I gratefully gulped some down, he opened the insulated lunch bag the resort staff had given us, sniffed the first sandwich he pulled out, and passed it to me. I unwrapped and bit into the still-warm gourmet cheesesteak, while Dean happily devoured his ahi tuna burger.

"Check it out, dude—it ain't that late in the afternoon yet, and we've already ganked the fugly. We should actually be able to have some fun today!" He paused and eyed a smear of sauce on his glove.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed his wrist before he could lick it, and rubbed snow on the stain. "We still have to get our sore asses down this crappy mountain."

"Yeah, but going down is always easier, sweetheart." He waggled his eyebrows before continuing, "We already broke a trail, so we can follow it back. And then soak those sore asses in our private hot tub!"

The thought of that hot soak sustained me on the admittedly easier trip back down to the resort. At the Main Lodge, we returned the gear we'd been loaned, and Dean spun a tale to Mr. Li of chasing the perp until he fell into a deep ravine, where the body couldn't be retrieved until spring, if at all. We then hoisted our bags and trudged back to our cabin.

Once inside, we tugged off our outer layers and piled them in front of the fireplace to dry out. He asked, Steam shower or hot tub first?

Shower, I replied firmly. We both worked up a sweat under those snowsuits. And you know grave dirt gets everywhere, no matter how much we're wearing.

Either works for me, man. He headed towards the bathroom and began undressing on the way, leaving a trail of discarded clothing behind him.

Outwardly I bitched at picking up after him, but inwardly I enjoyed the view as broad shoulders, strong back, pert ass, and long legs were each revealed in turn. By the time I divested myself of my clothes, my brother was standing in the middle of the shower with his face tipped up and eyes closed, getting hit by streams of hot water from either side. I paused to admire the sight of all that fair, freckled skin and lean muscle covered in glistening droplets, before he tilted his head down and opened those wide green eyes.

"Warm up now. Stare later," Dean ordered as he grasped my hand and hauled me into the shower.

I moaned after he tugged me under one of the showerheads. "Fuck, I thought I'd never be warm again after this hunt!"

"This is pretty awesome, ain't it?" he said as he squirted shampoo into his hand and pulled my head toward him.

I leaned into his hands as he massaged my scalp and ended up resting my head on his shoulder as his hands drifted down to caress my back. You can stop doing that, like, never . . .

Feels good, huh? my big brother crooned. You scared me there, kiddo. Not that I ever like seeing you take a hit, but head shots are the worst. Makes me wonder sometimes if this shit is worth putting you at risk.

I'm fine now, Dee. You can't think like that. All the people we save make the danger worthwhile. And you can't protect me from everything—I could get hit by a bus or something equally random.

He sighed. Yeah, I know. There ain't enough good hunters out there for us to hang up the towel. And I get that I can heal anything serious either of us takes. But it still don't make it any easier seeing you get hurt.

I decided to distract him with something pleasant and slotted my mouth against his. He parted his lips, allowing me to slip my tongue inside and deepen the kiss. I grabbed the bar of soap off the shelf and rubbed it over our torsos while still continuing to kiss him ardently. Once we were both covered in suds, I wrapped my hands around our shafts and began leisurely jerking us off together. He groaned into my mouth and hung onto my shoulders for support as my strokes sped up. We were both breathing heavily while my hands slid rapidly up and down our hard members. His fingers suddenly dug into my skin and his cum spilled over my fingers. This caused me to climax as well, my semen mixing with his.

After rinsing my hands off, I nudged him over until he sat down on the wooden bench running along the back of the stall. I turned to the controls and switched them to the steam settings. As the shower filled with hot vapor, I pivoted and found my lover standing facing the back wall with his legs spread, his hands braced against the seat and his back arched in invitation. I stepped up and rubbed the curve of his ass before sinking my cock into his waiting hole.

I kept my thrusts long and slow and ran my hands over the smooth skin of his backs and sides. He hummed happily as I filled him and pushed his hips back against mine, his taut passage squeezing around my shaft. We moved in sync like this for a while, sighing in pleasure and feeding off each other's passion.

Eventually I reached around and began stroking his rigid member. He cried out and snapped his pelvis back forcefully, encouraging me to plunge into him vigorously. He was soon screaming in ecstasy, thrusting forward into my hand and back onto my cock, while I pounded into his hot channel. Steam billowed around us as the shower echoed with our shouts and sounds of our bodies striking together. I came hard enough that my vision spun for a moment and felt him quaking through his orgasm beneath me.

I put my arms around his waist and spun us as I collapsed onto the bench with my husband sprawled in my lap. His purr rumbled loudly against my chest, and his inner walls trembled around my shaft. I gently caressed his chest and stomach and pressed kisses down the side of his neck.

I'm never leaving you, love—no matter what, I promised. God made us soulmates, which means we'll be together forever, in this life and whatever comes after.