Sawyer lowered himself into the river, trying to ignore the cascade of misgiving flowing through his brain.

Icy water soaked instantly through the thick cotton of his trousers, chilling his skin. As he stepped off the last rung of the ladder and onto the underwater platform, it became clear the river was running high, the water deeper than the waist-depth Julia had estimated. The current swirled around his chest, tugging under his armpits, forcing him to widen his stance to keep from falling over and his breath shuddered in tight gasps as his body adjusted to the cold.

“Sheesh. Water’s freezing.” His teeth would be chattering in a few minutes.

“Stop being a baby.” Violet hung over the edge, directing light over the constantly shifting surface. Garrick knelt beside her, pulse rifle raised in readiness. Sawyer was both reassured and freaked out by their attentiveness.

Garrick gave him a thumbs up. “The only weird life in the water is you, mate. You’re good to go.”

Sawyer flipped him the bird and edged sideways toward the main bank of water intake pipes, concentrating on every step. Julia tracked him from above. Even in the darkness, her intelligent face was ashen and pinched, her eyes creased with worry. Something was troubling her, something more than the darkness and the water, and he had no idea what it was. She kept herself to herself, and even though he knew every inch of that soft and alluring body, he still had scant idea what was running through her scarily brilliant mind. Nothing new there. Every woman I meet is an enigma. Tousled blonde hair and blue eyes shimmered in his memory for the briefest moment and his stomach tightened. Keep moving.

His feet shuffled along the grating, his hands following the path of horizontal conduits. Tension pricked his scalp as he inched further, excruciatingly aware of the surging black mass of water behind him.

Think about something else.

He glanced up at Julia, appreciating the sweep of her toned legs above him. He knew so little about the hot scientist who increasingly derailed his thoughts in the most delicious ways but he wanted to know everything. If only she would let him.

Finally, he was at the intake valves. Red circular controls lurked under the surface of the water.

“Controls are under the waterline. This crappy flashlight better be waterproof,” he muttered.

He shone the light under the surface, trying to see what the problem was. Dirt and debris swirled in the light beam, obscuring his vision. His numb fingers traced over the valves one at a time, trying to ascertain the extent of the damage. As he bent, the water swirled around his neck and chin. He stretched his arm taut, closing his mouth tight as his face dipped into the icy water. The first few taps were smooth, but further on, his fingertips grazed rough edges and warped metal. He swung his flashlight around, playing the beam over the misshapen machinery. Then the damn thing stuttered, blinked and went out.

“Shit.”

“Sawyer, you okay?”

Sawyer pressed his lips tight to keep from smiling. Julia generally acted as if she didn’t give a damn, so he savored every little indication that she did.

“I’m fine. Bloody flashlight is playing up. Stupid. Geriatric. Equipment.” He pulled it out of the water and shook it hard. It rattled in an unhealthy, cheap-plastic kind of way. He knocked it against the rail. Nothing. He swallowed, rubbing away the tightness in his forehead with the back of one grimy hand. They had gathered a significant amount of modern equipment in the last eight months, but there was still plenty of ancient crap lurking all over the damn place.

Suddenly something slammed against his legs, knocking him clean off his feet. His hands shot out, grabbing for purchase on the water-slick pipes. His heart rate spiked as his brain dumped adrenalin into his bloodstream, his mouth suddenly swilling with bitter river water.

His hands locked onto a pipe and he regained his footing on the grate. “Dammit.”

“Sawyer?” Garrick was only inches above. Violet hovered next to him, stepping from foot to foot in nervous anticipation.

Shit. Violet never worries about anything.

“Something hit my leg.” He squinted. “It’s bloody impossible to see. Might have been a log or something.” God, he hoped so. He risked a glance over his shoulder. The churning surface of the water was opaque like black oil, and the roar as it entered the cavern obscured any other sound. He might as well be deaf and blind.

Sawyer threw the dead flashlight up onto the metal platform. “Valves are distorted. There’s too much crap in the water to see how badly. We’ll need to wait until the river drops before we can have a proper look. Julia, which ones do I need to make sure are open to get the basics back up and running?”

Julia turned away from him, her head bent in concentration. She ran her fingers over several dials before she turned and spoke to him.

“Bottom four.”

Of course. The lowest ones.

“Give me the crowbar.”

Garrick raised his eyebrows in sympathy then scooted back onto his feet, retrieving a battered-looking crowbar from the kit bag he’d brought with him. He passed it to Sawyer along with a headlamp. Sawyer hefted it in his hand. The tool was reassuring and solid in his palm.

Sawyer tucked the crowbar between his knees and strapped the powerful headlamp against his forehead. He dipped his head, strobing the beam underwater. His legs stood in a maelstrom of sludgy debris, but there was nothing else on the platform with him.

No damn Chittrix. Let’s get this fixed and get the hell out of here.

He sucked in air and ducked under the glacial water, pulling himself down to the lowest valves, hand over hand. He touched the warped taps. The metal was gouged and the tap and panel notches were no longer aligned.

The tap had been turned off.

What the hell?

He rammed the edge of the crowbar into one of the deformed taps, nudging it gently. It resisted, forcing him to increase the pressure. Reluctantly, it shifted with a perceptible vibration as water began to flow again. The next two also released in quick succession. Sawyer surfaced, gasping with the effort.

“That’s working.” Julia’s voice rang out as she reset the coolant system on the panel above. A deep-throated growl permeated the air as the system rebooted and came back online.

“One more to go,” Sawyer muttered. He ducked for the last time, slipping the crowbar between the gaps in the valve tap.

The damage must have weakened the tap and it snapped, firing the crowbar free. Sawyer plunged forward, his feet skidding from the solidity of the grate, his hands scrabbling for purchase.

Then he was hit from the side again. Painful solidity slammed into his ribs, smashing him over the safety rail and into the void of the river. Darkness engulfed him as the current tossed him into a glacial maelstrom. He clutched the crowbar, hugging it to his chest for protection. Sawyer forced his eyes open. Shadows and light blurred in a disorientating kaleidoscope all around him. Where the fuck was up? Air fought to escape the restraint of his lungs. He kicked in the direction where the water was brighter.

The crowbar was weighing him down, so he dropped it. As it fell from his fingers, a sleek, elongated shape fired past him. The drag from its swift passage tugged at his body, spinning him, and his knuckles abraded against the dark switch of a thin, arrow-like tail.

Then it was gone.

Bubbles erupted from his mouth in a torrent of panic, his arms and legs propelling him toward the milky light in a blind rush of fear. He exploded from the water, his hands slapping flat on the surface as he spun to get his bearings. He was perhaps eight feet from the platform where he’d been only moments before. Julia and Violet were hanging over the rail with their flashlights held aloft. Garrick was already down the ladder, chest-deep in the river.

Waves broke in Sawyer’s face, driving into his lungs. He coughed and spluttered as he struck out for the platform, reaching it in four strokes. Garrick extended one arm, while his other gripped the ladder. Their hands connected in a solid lock that pulled Sawyer to the edge in an efficient snatch. Sawyer half-climbed, half let Garrick drag him up the ladder where he collapsed gasping on the platform. Water poured from his clothes, streaming to the darkness beneath. He rolled onto his side and spat out muddy water.

“Something…in the water.” Julia knelt at his side, cradling his head from the sharp edges of the grate.

Her voice was soft in his ear. “Sawyer. You fell.”

He shook his head. Adamant. “No. Something knocked me.”

He crawled forward until he was at the very edge of the platform. The knuckles of his right hand were raw, as if he’d dragged them down a sheet of sandpaper. Blood oozed from the torn flesh. He stared at the rushing channel below, holding his breath, but nothing surfaced.