Free Merrick's Destiny by Moira Rogers Page A

of the tree line before ducking under the wing. The ghouls had appeared on the opposite side of the clearing, moving in that halting, uneven fashion that meant their vampire masters were jerking their leashes.
    He counted ten, all moving toward them. Then another stumbled out of the trees. “If they keep coming, you need to take off. If something happens to you, I’m as good as dead.”
    “Merrick, I won’t leave you.” She gripped the steering controls. “Hold them off for a minute. I’ll start the engines and get into firing position. We can use the guns.”
    Time was ticking down, but he stared up at her as he pulled his knives. “Promise. You promise me, Paralee. If more come, you’ll get out of here. There’s a border town called Iron Creek. You go there and tell the bloodhound named Wilder Harding that you’re my mate. I’ll find you.” If he lived.
    She swallowed hard as her face paled. “I promise.” Then the hoarse whisper gave way to determination, a setting of her jaw. “Clear the way if you can, and I’ll take off. I’ll have better maneuverability in the air than on the ground.”
    Anything he tried to say would sound like good-bye , especially the words he truly wanted to say. He should have done it back at the outpost, gathered her close and whispered words of love that were too soon to be reasonable, but felt so damn real.
    Too late now. His only chance against the ghouls was to kill the lot of them before Paralee had to take off. “I’ll be right back, lover,” he said lightly, then threw himself toward the oncoming enemies.
    An engine roared to life behind him, almost drowning out the first ghoul’s screech as it reached for him.
    The world snapped into clarity as he slashed the blade of his knife across the creature’s throat and spun to plunge it in a second ghoul’s chest. This was what he’d trained for, what he lived for. After sixty years it was beyond experience, beyond even instinct.
    He was a bloodhound, one of the first, and he was made for killing.
    A shot rang out, then another, and the crank and drone of a second engine joined the first. “The clearing!” Paralee yelled.
    He needed to make space for her to build speed. He ducked the next attack, swept up a ghoul and flung him into two others, knocking them both toward the trees. “I’ll take care of it. You go!”
    The creatures had started coming in waves, and all he could do was rush them, his knives ready to slash—and distract. As soon as he cleared the way, the engines grumbled, and Paralee guided the craft past him in a rush.
    I promise.
    A ghoul snatched at his shirt, its teeth bared. There was satisfaction in breaking the thing’s neck, even if gave the one behind him the chance to slice his arm open.
    Blood ran freely, and Merrick accepted the pain. Every bruise meant Paralee’s freedom. Every cut meant her survival. He couldn’t just hold them off—he had to eradicate every last one of them. With the vampires trapped in their caves and their day-walking servants destroyed, she would be free to fly to safety.
    He sliced open a ghoul’s chest and blood slicked the knife, enough to make it twist in his grip. Not his most efficient weapon, nor were the guns on his back. Slicing through the horde, he broke free for long enough to drop his weapons and his gun belt.
    The truest weapon he had was inside him, raging to be set free in defense of its mate, and it was about damn time he used it.
    #
    The flying machine shuddered and jerked like a terrified animal, and it was all Paralee could do to roll straight down the field without veering off into the thick trees one either side of the clearing.
    She pumped the throttle and held her breath until the craft’s speed topped out—and the engines kept purring. She’d half expected them to seize up, and Lord only knew what would happen if ghouls overwhelmed her...
    No, she knew. So did Merrick, which was why he’d made her promise to go.
    Damn him, anyway.
    The