Chapter 205

The bar was long behind them, swallowed by the trees and snow as they trudged north. Eugene kept his hands shoved in his coat pockets, head down against the strong wind.

The cold gnawed at his face, biting through cracks in his scarf. He didn't want to leave, not really—not without a drink to cut through the ice crawling into his bones—but there was nothing for them there. No money, no cards, and definitely no phones.

He told himself the police station couldn't be far, though he had no idea what kind of idiot decided it was smart to put one out in the middle of a goddamn forest. Probably the same type who thought it was a good idea to enforce martial law in Paris.

The climb started gradually but turned steep fast enough that it left him grumbling under his breath. Amèlie lagged behind; he could hear her boots scraping against ice as she struggled for footing. When she slipped for the third time, nearly going down on her knees, he stopped and turned toward her.