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Authors: Zander Vyne
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the same weapons humans do when it comes to killing them
if we let our guard drop, reveal our thoughts, and they decide to make us
dinner.” Oliver had only killed one vampire in his life. He’d been just
starting out when shit had hit the fan and he and Miranda had started running.
Now, his lack of experience worried him.
Miranda moaned, leaned over
and put her head in her hands.
“All that mind reading give
you a headache, Baby?”
“Maybe.” She groaned and hung
her head out the window, reaching for the door handle. “Stop the car! I’m going
to be sick!”
Oliver pulled over at a wider
spot in the road, mindful of the steep drop-off, thinking a little barf on the
side of the car was better than losing Miranda over the side of a cliff.
“Careful!” he said as she
bolted from the car.
He followed, standing close
by as she was wracked with heaves. It was awkward, another reminder that he
didn’t know her very well. Was she one of those people who’d want to be left
alone, or should he hold her hair or something?
“Better?” he asked when she
finally stopped.
She stood up straight and
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Still really nauseated.”
Oliver handed her the water
bottle he’d grabbed when he’d come after her. “Don’t drink too much.”
“I’ve never been car-sick
before, but I’ve felt sick to my stomach ever since we got on this road. I just
need another minute, and then we can go.”
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.
Holding her, looking over the
top of her head, Oliver felt another twinge of alarm at the lateness of the
day. The sky had already turned that late afternoon shade of pinkish-orange
that said sunset was just around the corner. He shoved an urge away to hurry
her back to the car so they could get going.
“It’s okay. We’ll get there
when we get there,” Oliver said.
Behind him, an engine revved
as a vehicle came around the corner. He glanced back to make sure they’d left
enough clearance for what sounded like a truck, with its throaty, deep thrum.
Just as he saw the front of a big SUV round the corner, he realized he’d left
their bag and weapons in the car.
He nudged Miranda backward,
farther away from the pavement as tingles of nervous energy zipped down his
spine.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not sure, just get back.” He
pushed her along, his hand in the middle of her back.
The truck’s engine seemed
jet-engine loud. It was almost past them. He couldn’t see the driver. The
windows were tinted black. Oliver held his breath. He looked around, half
expecting to see a black dog or bats swooping down on them. Get a grip, he told
himself, bumping into Miranda when she stopped close to the cliff’s edge.
“This is as far as I can—”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Oliver looked back just in
time to see the huge truck swerve and slam into the back of their piece of crap
little Honda, pushing it right off the cliff. The car tumbled end over end,
metal crumpling, tires popping off, glass shimmering in the setting sun, and
came to rest atop an outcropping of trees about 500 yards below the road.
The SUV stopped, its tires on
the gravel just on the edge of the cliff, but now it backed up, sending gravel
spewing from its wheels. The driver put it back in drive and hit the gas,
rocketing straight at them.
“Run!” Oliver yelled, shoving
Miranda into the road.
Chapter Nine
Across the road, thankfully empty of
oncoming cars, a shallow crevice cut through the sheer rock wall. Miranda
headed for it, her feet slipping as she tried to climb.
She fell flat, grunting, but came quickly to her feet again,
grabbing spindly branches of the bushes growing from cracks in the rock and
using them to pull herself up.
Oliver was right behind her. He turned his face to avoid
being hit by the pebbles and dirt she kicked loose as she crawled up the face
of the mountainside.
Behind them, car doors slammed and voices shouted
if we let our guard drop, reveal our thoughts, and they decide to make us
dinner.” Oliver had only killed one vampire in his life. He’d been just
starting out when shit had hit the fan and he and Miranda had started running.
Now, his lack of experience worried him.
Miranda moaned, leaned over
and put her head in her hands.
“All that mind reading give
you a headache, Baby?”
“Maybe.” She groaned and hung
her head out the window, reaching for the door handle. “Stop the car! I’m going
to be sick!”
Oliver pulled over at a wider
spot in the road, mindful of the steep drop-off, thinking a little barf on the
side of the car was better than losing Miranda over the side of a cliff.
“Careful!” he said as she
bolted from the car.
He followed, standing close
by as she was wracked with heaves. It was awkward, another reminder that he
didn’t know her very well. Was she one of those people who’d want to be left
alone, or should he hold her hair or something?
“Better?” he asked when she
finally stopped.
She stood up straight and
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Still really nauseated.”
Oliver handed her the water
bottle he’d grabbed when he’d come after her. “Don’t drink too much.”
“I’ve never been car-sick
before, but I’ve felt sick to my stomach ever since we got on this road. I just
need another minute, and then we can go.”
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.
Holding her, looking over the
top of her head, Oliver felt another twinge of alarm at the lateness of the
day. The sky had already turned that late afternoon shade of pinkish-orange
that said sunset was just around the corner. He shoved an urge away to hurry
her back to the car so they could get going.
“It’s okay. We’ll get there
when we get there,” Oliver said.
Behind him, an engine revved
as a vehicle came around the corner. He glanced back to make sure they’d left
enough clearance for what sounded like a truck, with its throaty, deep thrum.
Just as he saw the front of a big SUV round the corner, he realized he’d left
their bag and weapons in the car.
He nudged Miranda backward,
farther away from the pavement as tingles of nervous energy zipped down his
spine.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not sure, just get back.” He
pushed her along, his hand in the middle of her back.
The truck’s engine seemed
jet-engine loud. It was almost past them. He couldn’t see the driver. The
windows were tinted black. Oliver held his breath. He looked around, half
expecting to see a black dog or bats swooping down on them. Get a grip, he told
himself, bumping into Miranda when she stopped close to the cliff’s edge.
“This is as far as I can—”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Oliver looked back just in
time to see the huge truck swerve and slam into the back of their piece of crap
little Honda, pushing it right off the cliff. The car tumbled end over end,
metal crumpling, tires popping off, glass shimmering in the setting sun, and
came to rest atop an outcropping of trees about 500 yards below the road.
The SUV stopped, its tires on
the gravel just on the edge of the cliff, but now it backed up, sending gravel
spewing from its wheels. The driver put it back in drive and hit the gas,
rocketing straight at them.
“Run!” Oliver yelled, shoving
Miranda into the road.
Chapter Nine
Across the road, thankfully empty of
oncoming cars, a shallow crevice cut through the sheer rock wall. Miranda
headed for it, her feet slipping as she tried to climb.
She fell flat, grunting, but came quickly to her feet again,
grabbing spindly branches of the bushes growing from cracks in the rock and
using them to pull herself up.
Oliver was right behind her. He turned his face to avoid
being hit by the pebbles and dirt she kicked loose as she crawled up the face
of the mountainside.
Behind them, car doors slammed and voices shouted
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