"We appreciate it," Lokan said sincerely. "We've been running for days."
"So I gather. You all look like you've been dragged through several circles of hell."
"Only three or four," Carol said. "We skipped the really bad ones."
Mikko chuckled. "Turner's arranging a private jet for tomorrow morning. Again, because the larger network is compromised at the moment and he has to rely on personal contacts, it wasn't so easy to find someone immediately, and flying commercial is not advisable given your situation."
"It's all good," Lokan said. "We need to rest and resupply before the Atlantic crossing."
"Resupply." Carol perked up. "Does that include clothing that doesn't smell like motorcycle exhaust, fear, and sweat?"
"There's a shopping center about forty-five minutes from the house," Mikko said.
Carol made a small sound of longing that made Lokan smile. His mate had left her entire designer wardrobe in Beijing, and while she'd been remarkably stoic about it, he knew how much she missed her nice things.
"Perhaps we should stop there before going to the safe house."
Carol turned to look at him. "I'm exhausted. I just want that hot shower and a bed. Shopping can wait."
He chuckled. "Those are words I never thought I would hear from you. What if I promise to make it quick?" he coaxed. "Just the essentials. Some proper clothing and luggage. Maybe some of that face cream you like that you had to leave behind."
"You don't even know what face cream I like," she protested, but he could see her resolve weakening.
"The one in the silver jar with French writing. Smells like roses and costs more than most people's mortgage."
Her eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
"Don't you know that I notice everything about you?"
From the back seat, Camden made a gagging sound. "Get a room, you two."
"That's literally where we're going," Carol shot back, but she was smiling now. "Fine. Shower first and then a quick shopping stop, and I mean quick."
"Thirty minutes, maximum," Lokan promised. "In and out."
"Famous last words," Grant muttered.
The drive continued through increasingly remote territory, the main roads giving way to smaller ones, then barely paved tracks through dense forest. Snow still clung to the gentle slopes despite the approaching summer, and Lokan was mesmerized by the stark beauty of the landscape.
"Pretty different from Beijing." Carol followed his gaze.
"Just a bit." He thought of their ultra-modern apartment, the constant noise and motion of the city, and the press of millions of people. Here, they might have been the only ones in the world.
"Which do you like better?" she asked.
He considered the question. "Honestly? Neither. Beijing was a useful cover, but it was never home. This is beautiful, but too isolated. I think..." He paused, searching for the right words. "I don't really care where I am as long as I am with you."
"Smooth talker," she accused, but there was a slight smile on her lips, and her eyes were soft.
The safe house appeared through the trees like something from a fairy tale—a traditional Finnish log cabin, but larger and more modern than the term suggested. Solar panels gleamed on the roof, and Lokan could see the subtle signs of security measures.
"Home sweet temporary home," Mikko announced, pulling up to the front door. "Fully stocked, alarm system's already disabled for your arrival. Code's 1847."
They climbed out, muscles stiff from too many hours in various uncomfortable positions. The air was even colder here, crisp and clean in a way that made Beijing's smog seem like a bad dream.
"This is perfect," Carol breathed, taking in the peaceful surroundings.
"Wait until nightfall," Mikko said, handing Grant a set of keys. "You can enjoy the Northern Lights out here. Quite a show if you're lucky."
