“Touch that dog with the stun gun and you may kill the man underneath him.” Every head in the great hall turned toward me. The guy holding the weapon looked annoyed. “Who the hell are you?”

By 8:00 PM, a ferocious early-season blizzard had hit the Green Mountains of Vermont.

Heavy snow slammed against the windshield of our heavy-duty Ford Raptor. The roads were pitch black, slippery, and deserted. Stefano sat in the passenger seat, holding a thermal tracking tablet that displayed the signal from a GPS transponder Danny's team had planted on Carmine's getaway vehicle.

I sat in the back with Nero, holding a portable medical kit stocked with trauma supplies, plasma bags, and emergency surgical gear.

"He's stopped," Danny reported from behind the wheel, pointing at a blinking red dot on the digital map. "Three miles ahead. A private hunting cabin near the base of the mountain. The airstrip is another two miles past it, but the storm grounded all light aircraft."

"He’s trapped by the weather," Stefano said coldly. "He’ll wait out the night in the cabin."

"Visibility is zero, Boss," Danny warned. "We can't use headlights when we close in. They'll see us coming."

"We don't need headlights," Stefano replied. He turned his head to look at Nero, who sat upright, his ears pinned forward, sensing the shift in the air. "Nero knows the scent. He spent two winters at that cabin with me."

Ten minutes later, the truck pulled off onto a snowy fire road. We stepped out into the freezing wind. The snow was already knee-deep, swirling furiously through the pines.

Stefano wore a heavy black parka over his tactical gear. He wincing slightly as he adjusted his posture, his hand pressing against his side.

"You're in pain," I said, stepping up beside him, the freezing wind whipping my hair around my face.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"You're lying," I countered, pulling a small penlight from my pocket and checking his pupils. "Your skin is clammy. Your stitches are pulling."

Stefano grabbed my gloved hand, holding it firmly. "Alice. After tonight, this ends. I promise you."

"Just don't die," I whispered, my voice caught in my throat. "I didn't save you twice just to watch you freeze in Vermont."

He smiled—a real, genuine smile that transformed his harsh face into something stunningly handsome. "That sounds almost like you care about me, nurse."

"I care about my patient survival rate," I retorted, though my heart pounded for a completely different reason.

Danny and three operatives checked their suppressed rifles. "We move on foot. Four hundred yards to the cabin."

Nero took the lead, his heavy paws breaking through the snow effortlessly, his dark coat rendering him virtually invisible in the blizzard night. We walked in a tight formation, using the dense tree line for cover.

Through the white haze of blowing snow, the outline of a large log cabin appeared. Yellow light glowed from two ground-floor windows. Outside, three black SUVs were idling, exhaust fumes rising into the freezing air.

Four armed guards in heavy snow gear were patrolling the perimeter.

"There are too many of them," Danny whispered through his radio headset. "Carmine hired extra mercenaries from Montreal."

Suddenly, Nero stopped. He lowered his head, let out a silent exhale, and nudged Stefano’s hand with his snout.

Stefano looked down at the dog, then at the left flank of the cabin. "The cellar door," Stefano whispered. "It leads under the kitchen. Carmine doesn't know Nero remembers that entrance."