Whiteout (Aurora Sky by Nikki Jefford

we’d be without a vehicle.
    We entered the forested path and Dante pressed on the gas. When the t ires started spinning, he let up. Winter driving . D idn’t miss it. But if anyone could get us through, it was Dante.
    It stopped snowing, and it took Dante a moment to turn off the wipers. His hands were occupied with the steering wheel and gearshift .
    When w e reached the plowed road adjacent to the highway, Dante gave a whoop of joy. “Made it!”
    â€œYeah, we’re definitely not going back up in the truck,” I said.
    We turned onto the highway , heading north. Snow crept right up to the edges of the road on either side . The particles lifted and floated around the truck like vapor as we zipped forward.
    Dante slowed the truck to thirty-five miles per hour a short ways up as we entered a tiny town encroaching along the highway.
    Out of the blue, a ringing filled the truck. I gave a slight jump, realizing where it had originated when it rang again. Dante reached inside his pocket, pulling out the phone he’d gotten off our midnight visitor.
    â€œHere, answer it,” he said, handing it to me.
    â€œWhat?” I asked in disbelief.
    My fingers closed around the phone. That didn’t mean I’d answer it. As it rang a third time, I saw the name “Pierce” on the screen. Hearing the phone ring was like listening to my own language after an extended sojourn in a foreign land. It had been far too long sin ce I’d heard the familiar jingle associated with the civilized world.
    â€œHere,” Giselle said, holding out her hand. “Give it to me. I’ll toss it out the window.”
    That decided it. I touched the answer button just to spite her. Giselle scowled but said nothing . We were all silent as I pressed the phone to my ear.
    â€œI got your message,” a man said impatiently. “What is so important that you wanted me to call right away ?”
    I held my breath, waiting.
    â€œHey! Nelson, I’m talking to you.”
    â€œThis isn’t Nelson.”
    Two seconds of silence followed before the man said, “Pixie?”
    Pixie? Seriously? Who named this chick? Sarah Palin?
    Sure, why not?
    â€œYeah,” I replied.
    â€œWhere’s Nelson?”
    â€œHe’s, uh, indisposed at the moment.”
    Creases appeared across Dante’s cheeks as a beguiling smile formed over his lips. His grin trigger ed my own, as though we were sharing a private joke or prank calling some fool vampire out in the boonies. The whole thing was ludicrous.
    â€œWell, he must have been on a bad trip the other day because he left me a whacked out message about a guy wanting his help tracking down some hunters.”
    My heart sped up, absorbing and storing the information in my head.
    â€œI don’t know anything about that,” I answered with nonchalance. “But he has been extra paranoid lately. I tol d him to go easy on the grass, but you know how he is.”
    I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Bullshitting wasn’t usually my thing, but something had come over me and I couldn’t stop myself. This was the best entertainment I’d had in weeks.
    Pierce sighed through the phone. “Nelson needs to get his priorities straight. Speaking of which, have you lined up more girls?”
    My previous humor dissolved faster than snow over a hot iron grate.
    â€œLined up girls?” I repeated.
    â€œAre you stoned too?” Pierce asked in a n exasperated tone.
    More like disgusted by the implication of his words. Was Pixie a vampire or a traitor to the human race rounding up girls for vamps to feed on? Because that’s exactly what it sounded like.
    â€œI’m fine,” I answered coldly.
    â€œSo did you find some girls or not?”
    â€œOne girl,” I said between clenched teeth.
    One girl who wanted to smash this sucker’s face in. I’d almost forgotten how depraved the underworld could be. I