The first time Carson Slade met his future wife, she had a pistol against her temple.

It was March in Fairbanks, meaning everyone was bat shit crazy. His paranormal marshal’s office was already flooded with protection duties and hunting fugitives.

“There’s a hostage situation over at the university.” Sonny, his dispatcher’s dark head craned into his office.

“That’s the sheriff’s department,” Carson replied, wondering why he even bothered having an office door. Everyone was popping in and out every two minutes.

“Sheriff’s office says no. There’s witches involved.”

“Guess they remember the Newt Incident.” Carson leaned back in his desk chair, staring at the water stain on the ceiling above him. “Ask if can she turn the hostage into a toad. It’d save us all a whole lot of paperwork.”

“Apparently she’s not that kind of witch, sir.” Sonny pursed her lips. She tracked to the sandwich on his desk.

These days Sonny was always hungry. Being pregnant with ice bear twins would do that to a body. Carson dreaded her maternity leave—this place would fall into chaos without her organizational skills.

“What the hell kind of witch is she?” Carson was already shrugging into his barn jacket. Even though it was winter in Fairbanks, he didn’t need anything warmer. His ice bear blood ran him a good deal warmer than most other paranormals.

“According to her boss, she’s a good witch.” Sonny’s gaze lingered on his sandwich. She’d been burying her empty potato chip bags in the office trash. The office was almost entirely shifters but everyone pretended they didn’t smell a thing.

“I hope this ‘Glenda’ is worth the all the trouble.” Carson slammed his cowboy hat on before handing his unwrapped sandwich to Sonny.

“You remember I told you she’s a witch, right?” His office assistant patted her enormous belly, wincing. “Thanks. Hey, be careful out there, marshal. I got a bad feeling about this one.”

In retrospect, Carson wished he’d paid more attention to Sonny’s premonition. He’s arrived at the University of Fairbanks, Alaska biology lab to discover the hostage taker was a warlock. Glen was a disgruntled former lab employee with the irritating habit of making air quotes with his fingers when he talked, which unfortunately was a lot.

Carson met Glen and his hostage in a windowless conference room in the evacuated biology building that ruled out snipers.

Damn. Glen wasn’t a dummy.

The hostage was Jessica Tindal . She wore a UAF sweatshirt with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had a pretty face with great tits. The latter was obvious even in a sweatshirt. She was sitting down when he entered the room but Carson guessed the table hid a curvy ass in some faded jeans and running shoes.

She raised her head to meet his eyes across the laminate conference table under the florescent lights. She had brown eyes with little flecks of gold. Recognition slammed through him. He had a full head of silver hair. He had to be twenty years older than her. It’d taken him a while but he found his fated mate. In a moment of appalling unprofessionalism, Carson wondered what kind of panties clung to her silky flesh.

As the day wore on the temperature increased in the conference room. Unfortunately, Glenn was insane. Carson insisted the air conditioning be cut when he first arrived and Fairbanks was having its usual freak heat wave. No sense is making things comfortable for the guy.

Across the table from Jessica and Glenn, Carson felt like this was the longest negotiation of his life.

“How about we let the girl go? She’s not feeling well. It’s boiling in here,” Carson suggested.

“She’s fine.” Glenn waved his gun around then glanced at Jessica. “Hey, take off that sweatshirt. Let’s take a look at those jugs of yours.”

Jessica started to slowly move her hands to pull up her sweatshirt.

Fuck no.

It wasn’t that Carson didn’t want a peek. He did. He just didn’t want it like this with Glenn ogling her.

Jessica slumped. Her forearms cushioned her face. Probably from the heat and the stress.

Glenn was so going to pay for this.

Carson jumped to his feet.

“Stay where you are!” Glenn shouted. “Hey, Jessica. You ok? Come on, baby. Wake up.” He set the gun down on the table then he leaned over and shook her shoulder.

Jessica snapped her head back, hitting Glen squarely in the nose. Simultaneously she shot her left arm out, knocking the gun off the table.

“Shit! You broke my nose!” he blubbered. Blood poured from his face.

Carson leapt on the table and ran down the length of it toward them. Jessica spun around, hitting her captor with the heel of her hand. Glen was airborne before hitting the conference room wall and dropping to the floor.

Without a doubt, it was the sexiest thing Carson had ever seen in his life.

By the time he reached them, she was standing over her captor, watching him bleed.

“You all right?” Carson realized she only came up to his shoulder yet she’d played this warlock like a she was a professional. He didn’t feel bad for this amateur threatening her with a firearm but he was mighty impressed by this woman.

Jessica rubbed the back of her head. “I can’t stand the word ‘jugs.’”

Making a mental note of that, Carson Slade glanced at the man sniveling before them. Then for the first time in his forty-seven years, Carson uttered a phrase he’d never spoken before. “Will you marry me?”

* * *

Eighteen months later, Carson breathed into his headset on the biplane hurling toward the Icy Cap Biology Station. The biplane was so noisy that the pilot issued the passengers headsets both to protect their ears from the engine noises and to allow them to communicate.

“This isn’t right.” Carson gripped the armrests.

“Besides how much you hate to fly?” Mariko remarked dryly. His vamp colleague seated next to him was dressed in layers of expensive black sportswear. She could’ve been a model for a recreational company except her pallor gave her away. “Face it, ice bears aren’t good travelers.” Only her eyes were uncovered. A pity because he observed them narrow at him in disgust. Vamps had a surplus of arrogance. And yes, he was aware that was coming from an ice bear shifter flying into a double homicide investigation involving his wife.

The propeller plane’s loud engines made talking difficult. The blizzard batted the plane around like a butterfly. They needed to get to Icy Cap as soon as possible. Carson really hated flying.

It wasn’t true that ice bears were poor travelers. He’d have no problem reaching Icy Cap quite comfortably in his ice bear form if he was not pressed for time.

As it was, he didn’t like the idea of Mariko arriving first and beginning the investigation without him.

What was he so afraid of?

He knew the answer well enough, but didn’t want to dwell on it. He unscrewed his thermos before taking a sip of whiskey.

The plane hit another patch of rough air. The whiskey splashed out. He moved his leg, missing the drench. The entire aircraft rattled as if it was going to fly apart at the seams.

Next to him, Mariko’s eyes were closed. She appeared serene, not an easy trick for a vamp. They were cold-blooded bastards, for sure, but they did make excellent marshals.

“Hold on back there.” The pilot spoke over into his microphone. “We’re starting our descent. It’ll get a bit bumpy.”

Get bumpy?!

He had plenty to say to Jessica. He’d had months to brood about it.

Carson gazed out the window. Everything was dark below. Only the plane’s lights illuminated the snow around them. How could the pilot land under such conditions?

He took another long draw off his whiskey.

“You’re going to be ok with this?” Mariko asked without opening her eyes. Her head still rested on the seat back.

“I’m fine.” He growled.

The plane shuddered sideways.

“It’s not just any investigation.”

“No one investigation is more important than any other.”

Mariko glanced at him sidelong. “Really? When was the last time you investigated a case with your ex-wife as the chief suspect?”

Who was he kidding? He was seriously fucked.