Sky sat outside the dean’s office, feeling like she was back in junior high, waiting to be reprimanded by the principal. She had no clue what the rules were about fraternizing with her students, but hiring one for a band gig and inviting the rest to a party shouldn’t be a capital offense, should it? Maybe it was, because the dean’s assistant had interrupted her class to tell her to report to the dean after dismissal.

“Dean Chenik will see you now,” the assistant announced, opening the door. The woman had never been a bowl of laughs, but today she seemed particularly bitchy.

Okay. Time to face the music. She’d apologize for whatever infraction she’d committed. End of story.

“Ms. Gonzalez, please sit down,” the dean said, never lifting his gaze from some papers in front of him.

She obeyed. “You wanted to see me?”

His nod was curt. He took his time before looking up. “I would have hoped you would come to us first. It would make this situation less awkward.”

He’d found out about the party. And by the looks of it, fraternizing with students was a big deal. She was so fired. “I can explain it. I swear—”

Dean Chenik raised his hand. “Ms. Gonzalez. We all knew you weren’t here by choice. It was no secret. I do understand, though. The temptation is a big one. I myself have considered taking a dip in that pool, if you know what I mean. Trying uncharted territories. Living my dreams. I can’t blame you for jumping into it headfirst.”

Oh God, what did this man think she’d done? Some of the guys had taken off their shirts and jumped into the lake in their boxers, but that hadn’t been her idea. She’d left shortly after that. Whatever else had happened, she’d had no part in it. Besides, they were all of legal age, weren’t they? She went over their names. Simon. The one with the incipient beard. He looked young.

“People around here are not very accepting. They’re set in their ways. But you fit in, and we don’t want to lose you. I want to propose an alternative to your… departure.”

Oh shit. Simon was underage. Forget getting fired. Getting fired was the least of her problems. They were offing her. Did Minnesota electrocute felons for inciting minors to partial nudity? “I didn’t intend to offend anyone.”

“I know it’s nothing personal. You’re just sowing a few wild oats before you settle. I get it. We can’t compete with the exotic, obviously, but there’s something to be said for old and reliable, don’t you think? Even if it is less exciting.”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise you I didn’t touch them. I only organized the event. I didn’t realize they were undressing until they jumped into the lake!”

He frowned. Blinked twice. “What lake?”

She paused, totally confused. “What exactly are we talking about?”

“I’m talking about your transfer, of course. It just came in. Well, not so much a transfer, a second internship to follow this one. They’re offering you an opportunity to teach during the summer semester in France. You were only signed up here for one semester, but we were hoping you would stay on for the summer with us. Your supervisor speaks highly of you, as do your students. Several of the summer courses are linked to the spring ones, so continuity is appreciated. We really don’t want to lose you.”

She cleared her throat. “France? As in Paris, France?”

“Didn’t you know? I assumed they had informed you. What did you think I was talking about?”

Sky didn’t bother explaining. Her brain was stuck on the word France. “When?”

“In two weeks.”

Her time in Minnesota was up.

Two months ago, she would have cried for joy at this news. Now she was feeling… she didn’t know what she was feeling. Dread. Unease.

“As I said,” he continued, “Minnesota is no France, but we are very happy with your work. The students have taken to you. If you go, we have to get another intern. I told you, we Minnesotans don’t like change.”

“I… this is very kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Take your time,” he said, handing her some papers.

Sky left the dean’s office as if she were walking in a fog. Disoriented, she plopped on a bench. Her phone rang several times, but she ignored it. Reading the papers was mission impossible. Her mind was too scattered to retain the information.

“Mami, you okay?” she heard someone say. Elias. He sat by her side.

“Hello, Elias. Yes, everything is fine. I just got some unexpected news.”

“Good or bad?”

“Not sure. My head says good. My gut says bad.” Actually, if she took into consideration Dean Chenik’s offer, then she’d gotten good and bad news. She just couldn’t decide which was which.

Elias said promptly, “Gut trumps head. Every time. You know how recovering addicts always talk about a higher power guiding their steps? Well, ‘higher power’ is a fancy word for ‘gut.’”

“Really?”

“Totally. Listening to my head—either of them, actually, if you get my meaning—has always landed me in big trouble. Listening to my gut keeps me in the straight arrow.”

“On the straight and narrow,” she corrected, although it was the bigger idea that got her attention. “How big was this trouble?”

Elias exhaled hard. “You don’t want to know, believe me. Forget your head, your heart, your wallet, the people around you yapping. Everything. Your gut churns, you listen.”

For a while now, she’d suspected Logan was The One. Capital letters. Her gut was screaming it at her. But should she leave such an important decision to her gut? “How do you know the churning isn’t just plain indigestion?” she asked.

Elias laughed and stood up. “Because it doesn’t go away with antacids, mami.”

Good point.

After thanking Elias and saying her goodbyes, she got in her car and turned on the cassette player. The tape was one she’d found in the glove compartment—some eighties mix, recorded off the radio from the sound of it. Monroe had offered her other tapes, but she’d stuck with her serendipitous find, like a lucky charm.

On her way back to NoName, her cell rang, so she answered. “You will never believe this!” Lola yelled at the other end of the line. “You got the transfer back to civilization. Your school had been trying to contact you, but they didn’t get through, so they called me. When can I expect you back? Tomorrow? The secretary said you have to fill out some papers.”

Sky didn’t answer.

“Sky? Did you faint?”

“I’m here. I don’t know, Lola. I’m not sure about spending the summer in France. I have to think about it.”

Silence. Then a huge explosion of rushed words: “What the hell is there to think about? This is your ticket out of hell!”

“I wouldn’t call this place hell.”

“If this is about money, you don’t have to worry. I’m working now, I can lend you whatever you need. Pack your bag and come,” her sister insisted.

“It’s not the money. I—”

Sky realized she’d lost the signal. It was for the best. Her sister would just keep demanding explanations, and Sky had none. Yes, the logical thing to do was to grab the chance and run, never looking back. Paris, France. Her dream. She could beg her old boss to make another appointment with her contacts there. And yet, when Dean Chenick had told Sky about it, her feeling of dread at the thought of leaving Logan had been overwhelming.

She could always take the Paris internship and then come back to Logan. If he wanted her, which she wasn’t clear about. But even if he did, her plan had been to apply for a retail buyer apprenticeship in France. Her worst-case scenario had been to come back to New York and slave away for her ex-boss again, hoping for another shot at Paris. None of her plans had included a move to Minnesota, to the deep woods, surrounded by preppers who thought the world was about to end.

She made it to Logan’s driveway and her cell started beeping again. Hail, Wi-Fi. She ignored it. The messages were probably from her sister, demanding answers Sky didn’t have.

She looked around. Arnie wasn’t in the yard, running full speed to greet her, and there was no sounds coming from the greenhouse, so she headed for the house. Inside, she found Arnie sitting halfway up the stairs, Logan lying by his side, talking to him in a soothing tone and feeding him treats.

Oh my God. Her throat clogged at the sight. That was two, four, six, eight, ten steps. Sky had never gotten Arnie past the fourth step, no matter how hard she tried.

Logan looked up at her and smiled. “Cerberus, our girl is here.”

Arnie turned his head to her, his tail wiggling.

“What are you doing?” she asked, fighting not to cry.

“Teaching him to climb stairs. We’ve made huge progress. Can’t carry him forever, can I?”

Her legs moved before she could even order them to. Crawling into Logan’s lap, she hugged him, so hard her arms hurt.

“You okay, babe?” he whispered.

She nodded, not lifting her head. When she loosened the embrace a bit, he kissed her. “You crying?”

She shook her head and smiled. “Allergies. And I’m premenstrual. It makes me extra sensitive. What’s that nice smell?”

He didn’t seem that convinced, but didn’t push it. “Cookies. From Emily, as thanks for the party. Agatha had a blast, so she cooked a batch for us and these doggie treats without sugar for Arnie.” He showed her a plate full of bone-shaped biscuits. “Nutty bacon bites, Agatha called them. He loves them. Enough to get him halfway to the second floor. Monroe tried them too, I hear.”

“Crap.”

“What?” Logan asked, perplexed. “I’m positive Monroe has tried much worse things than doggie treats. He’s lived all his life in NoName, after all.”

“Nutty bacon bites. Remember the result of the bacon-flavored chips? Be ready for him to gas us.”

He cringed and turned to Arnie. “Buddy, we love you, but you’re sleeping in the hallway.”

Arnie must have decided that was an acceptable punishment for his future crimes. He stretched his muzzle to the plate.

“You still want one?” Logan asked, putting one biscuit up the stairs, out of its reach. “You’re gonna have to climb.”

Arnie whimpered and looked to Sky, but Logan was adamant. “Come on, you can do it.”

With a huff, Arnie unlocked his frozen front paws. Shaking, he made it up one more step. Getting his rear paws to move required a bit of help from Logan, but all in all the bribe was a success. Logan patted his head, congratulating him, while Arnie wiggled his tail and ate the treat.

“Thank you,” Sky whispered, her throat clogging.

“Told you. I can’t be carrying him forever. I’d rather carry you,” Logan said, kissing the tip of her nose.

Her cell rang, but she ignored it. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

“You got it, babe.” He stood up with her in his arms and climbed a couple of steps before Arnie whimpered. “Shit. Almost forgot. Hold on tight.” He went back to grab the all-but-paralyzed dog.

“I can walk,” she said as he struggled to juggle her and Arnie.

“I know you can, but I like keeping you close by.”

Gut churning, she smiled.

When they reached the second floor, he put Arnie on the floor and scratched the dog’s back. “Good night, buddy. We’ll continue tomorrow. I want to spend some alone time with our girl. She looks a bit down. She needs some pampering.”

And there it went again, her gut.

“Logan?” she asked on the way to his bedroom.

“Yes, babe?”

“Do we have antacids?”

He frowned. “I think so. Why? Need some?”

Sky nodded. She needed to prove a theory.

* * *

Logan woke up alone in his bed for the first time since Sky moved in with him. As novelties went, he didn’t care much for this one. Worried, he went looking for her. The house was empty, so he headed outside. He found Sky in the greenhouse, cutting mushrooms in her pajamas, Arnie lying by her feet. He kissed the top of her head. “What are you doing here, Butterfly?”

She offered him a smile. “Not sure. This is weirdly relaxing. I thought about snooping around the lab, but I was afraid I’d blow something up. I’d rather stick with low tech.”

“You okay?”

With a shrug, she lowered her gaze and went back to the mushrooms. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Right. For the last couple of days, she’d been hiding something from him. By now he knew her pretty well, but if she didn’t want to tell him, he wasn’t going to force her. “Is your stomach better?”

“Not really.”

She’d been taking antacids for the last two days too. Something about proving a theory, she’d said. And she’d been ignoring her phone. Now she was voluntarily in the greenhouse, not complaining about the smell. Something was wrong.

Then again, not complaining about the smell could have more to do with the cream she was dabbing under her nose every few minutes.

Arnie was making great progress with the stairs. Too bad the only thing that motivated him to climb were those nutty bacon treats, the ones that gave him insanely gross gas. They had to choose between evils, and decided to continue with the training. At this point, Logan feared their olfactory receptors were scorched beyond repair, cream or no cream.

Suddenly, the emergency alarm blasted. Sky knew the sound, because she raised her brows and said, “A drill? In the morning on a working day?”

“They like to prepare for all sorts of scenarios. Aliens won’t schedule attacks only on the weekends.”

“And what if you’re working? What do you do?”

“You haul ass to the staging area regardless, preferably with your gear. They have a messenger group too, in case you’re out of town and can’t hear the alarm.” And that was the more normal option—Bob delivered the local messages. “You want to sit this one out?”

“You crazy? No way. This time around I’m taking my toiletry kit. And underwear.”

He laughed, loving the smirk on her face. “Okay. Let’s get rocking. Alec and my sister will be here soon.”

They hurried inside to change. The bug-out bags were ready, even a small one for Arnie, so when the truck horn sounded, they were all but out the door.

Alec and Megan were there, dressed in camo, moving some gear to the bed of the truck. Drake and Marc, from Alec’s crew, were there too, also in camo attire, offloading cargo to Alec.

A small rental car was parked in his driveway. A Latino woman, resembling Sky but with black hair, emerged from it. “Celeste Macarena Gonzalez, come out right now!” she yelled.

“Who’s Celeste Macarena?” Logan asked, at a loss.

“Me,” Sky answered grudgingly. She headed for the newcomer. “Lola, what are you doing here?”

Lola. So that was Sky’s older sister.

“What am I doing here?” Lola looked around and lowered her voice. “Rescuing you from a doomsday cult, obviously.” She probably thought she was talking in a hushed tone, but she was still very loud. “I didn’t plan on meeting armed resistance.”

“They’re not a cult,” Sky said. “They’re preppers.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

“This is Logan. I’m staying with him. Logan, my sister Lola.”

“A pleasure.” He plastered on the nicest, most unthreatening smile he could come up with and added, “We’re living together, actually.”

“Yo, Alchemist, let’s get moving,” Drake called out, handing him a rifle.

Lola opened her eyes wide and said to her sister, “You have Stockholm syndrome. Let’s get you back to New York.”

“You don’t understand. We’re in the middle of a drill. We’re—”

“—in a fucking hurry,” Alec finished. “Your sister, right? Just take her with us. You can talk on the way.”

“I’m warning you. I have a tracker on my cell, and I’m sharing my location with friends,” Lola said. “I can’t disappear. People will come asking questions.”

“What’s the holdup, Patient Zero?” Marc shouted. “We’re ready to roll.”

Lola choked. “Patient Zero? What the fuck?”

“Never mind, sis. Long story.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Alec snarled. “Get her in the truck. You can hash it out in the compound.”

The word compound seemed to alarm the already agitated woman. “You will not brainwash me!” Lola shrieked as Sky pushed her into the vehicle. “I won’t sign anything!”

“Don’t be silly,” Sky said, sitting beside her and motioning for Arnie to jump in.

“We got a screamer. Shut the windows,” Alec ordered.

Great. This drill was getting better and better. Either they rolled the windows down and got pulled over by the cops because a woman was screaming bloody murder, or they kept the windows closed and Arnie suffocated them all.

“Dab this under your nose,” Logan said, offering the cream around. “Trust me.”

Everyone did, except Lola.

“It’s just strong-smelling rose Vaseline,” Sky said.

“I will not help you drug me!”

Sky shrugged. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”