by Moira Rogers
The ghouls had once been men. Under Merrick’s claws they now resembled broken toys. He ripped through them and discarded them with no thought, as if a hundred might not be enough to take him down.
Blood soaked the ground, but Paralee couldn’t even care, as long as none of it belonged to Merrick. She angled the nose of the craft downward and fired at a small group of ghouls at the edge of the clearing. All but one fell, and she pulled the biplane around with a renewed sense of purpose.
Beneath her, Merrick trampled through another tight knot of ghouls. Their movements had become increasingly disjointed—even from the sky she could tell that their vampire masters had to be struggling to retain control of their creatures in the face of such a monstrous opponent.
Her momentary sense of relief vanished like smoke at the sharp clatter of auto-fired shots. The craft had been plated on the bottom with a light armor, but every machine had weak spots. She returned fire, wincing when the arc of bullets strayed perilously close to Merrick.
He roared at the ghoul holding the gun and crossed the space separating them with three loping steps. The creature tried to turn the weapon on Merrick, who ripped the gun from the ghoul’s hands with one ferocious swipe. Then he spun and charged directly toward her.
There was no time to slow enough to touch down, but it didn’t matter. When his long strides drew him close, he launched himself into the air like gravity had given up trying to hold him. One clawed hand curved over the side of the plane, and the whole thing pitched to one side.
Paralee swore and struggled to compensate for his extra weight. “Can you get in?” she ground out through clenched teeth.
His only response was a grunt and a pained noise. The claws twisted, contracted, and fur melted away. Merrick swung up behind her, his body blood-slicked and bare. “Fuck.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up, unbidden, and Paralee bit her tongue as she pointed the nose of the craft skyward. “Are you all right? Is that blood yours or—or—”
“Both.” He slid into the spot next to her with another grunt and flexed his hands. “You didn’t leave.”
“You said you’d be right back, didn’t you?”
He chuckled hoarsely. “I suppose I did, lover. Doesn’t make you any less crazy for waiting for me.”
“I didn’t wait for you.” She laid her hand over his for a moment, as long as she dared. She couldn’t look at him or the tears would come, and maybe they would die in a fiery inferno, after all. “I saved your ass, is what I did.”
“Damn right.” His voice was rough, thick with emotion, and he reached over to grip her thigh. “I’ll need you until my dying day, but I want you too. I want you watching my back so my dying day doesn’t come anytime soon.”
His tone tempered words that should have sounded mercenary, and Paralee smiled as they topped the foothills and crossed the river. “I hope you know…when we reach altitude, I’m going to kiss the living daylights out of you.”
“Sweet girl, if I weren’t pretty sure we’d crash, I’d do a hell of a lot more than that.”
Plenty of time for such things once they’d made it to safety. She could show him everything she couldn’t say, not yet, and they could talk about things beyond here and now.
“We have to make it to Chicago,” Paralee mused. She checked her compass, changed course and shielded her eyes against the morning sun. “You owe me a ship, remember? Though I could get used to this little machine too.”
He patted the side of the cockpit and smiled. “Then she needs a name.”
“So let’s call her Merrick’s Destiny.” Paralee leveled out the plane and slid her hand into his. “Just like me.”
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.
By day, Bree and Donna are mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South. At night, when their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to unleash the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page.
To learn more about this romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit their webpage at www.MoiraRogers.com. (Disclaimer: crime fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
Also by This Author
Wilder's Mate, Samhain Publishing
Crux, Samhain Publishing
Crossroads, Samhain Publishing
Deadlock, Samhain Publishing
Cipher, Samhain Publishing
Table of Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
About the Author
Also by This Author
