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who’d gathered to live together and take care of the land as much as possible. They lived off the land, protecting it.
    More than ever, Amber needed Grandma Hilde home since Hanson had picked up his campaign of terror in an effort to get the northern rocks.
    Mason cleared his throat. About sixty years old and honorably discharged from the military, he’d somehow become the unofficial leader of the group. Even with his gray hair to his shoulders, his bearing confirmed his military background, which was as far as he’d go in talking about his past. Everyone had learned not to ask.
    He rested calloused hands on the table. “Did you call the sheriff about last night?”
    “No.” Amber shook her head. Butch had argued they should call the police. “But I’ll head over there later in the morning and give some type of a report, though considering he’s related to Hanson, I don’t know what good it’ll do.” Besides, she couldn’t prove that Hanson’s men had messed with her car, so the trip didn’t seem worth the effort. Also, Kane hadn’t really kidnapped her, so why bother filing a complaint about him? But she’d promised Butch, so she’d go.
    Mason nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
    A tingle warmed the back of Amber’s scalp. A slight pain, more of a tickle, but something strong enough to catch the breath in her throat.
    She started to turn just as the front door ripped from the hinges and flew hard into the stairs. Splinters cascaded in all directions. Leaping to her feet, she pivoted to put her body between June and the threat. Mason was faster, reaching the end of the table and settling his stance.
    The wind threw snow to cover the wooden floor.
    Two men stomped inside. Huge men, they wore black uniforms with an odd silver insignia across the left breast. White-blond hair and deep black eyes made them almost twins, but their faces lacked similarity. Large and trim, their shoulders drew back as if at attention. The one in the lead lifted his head and sniffed the air. Seconds later he zeroed in on her, sharp canines flashing in a smile. “Destroyer.”
    The tingle exploded in her head. She staggered back. Sparks flashed so hard behind her eyes her eyelashes singed. Pain, internal and complete, compressed her lungs.
    She shook her head with a whimper.
    Mason leapt for the guy, one hand going to the jugular, the other punching to the gut. The guy growled, slamming a fist on Mason’s head. Her friend went down hard.
    June screamed, and Mildred clutched her chest.
    Sucking in a deep breath, Amber crept toward Mason and dropped to one knee. A sigh of relief escaped her as she checked for the pulse in his neck, even as agony spurted behind her eyes. She glanced up at the guy in front. “Who are you?”
    His eyes morphed to yellow and then back to black.
    She gasped, leaning over Mason to shield him. Shaking her head, she shoved down bile. Okay. Something was going on with her head and eyes. Some sort of extreme migraine. Grandma Hilde had migraines. Maybe the condition was hereditary, and Amber’s escape of them had ended.
    The guy grabbed her arm, yanking her up. “We have orders to take you, Destroyer, but killing you is permissible.” Rough and gravelly, his voice passed beyond hoarse.
    Permissible? Who talked like that? What the hell? She swallowed. “What am I, some sort of prize in a nutso scavenger hunt?” Kane had called her a demon destroyer. “What is really going on?”
    The long fingers around her arm tightened, and she bit her lip to keep from wincing. No way would she give the jackass the satisfaction. His fingers chilled her flesh even through the shirt.
    He leaned down, breath somehow cold against her ear. “Leave with us now, or we kill everyone here. With great pleasure.”
    Amber stilled and glanced at her family. Mason was unconscious, and not one of the elderly ladies could take on two huge guys. A vibration uncoiled in her gut—fear. She’d never truly felt terror until that moment.