Merrick's Destiny

by Moira Rogers

  Finally, a question with a simple answer. “You, sweet girl.”

  “I—I want you too.” She tucked one unruly lock of hair behind her ear. “Bearing both those facts in mind, arguing seems silly.”

  He needed to hear it again. Needed to believe it. “You don’t want to leave me?”

  “No.” Her gaze locked on his mouth, and she smiled slowly. “I never turn away from adventure—and you, Merrick Wood, seem like one hell of an adventure.”

  Laughing his relief, he dragged her down for a quick kiss. “Honey, this may be premature, seeing as we’ve got a hell of an adventure coming just getting out of the Deadlands in one piece.”

  “Mmm, I have faith in us.”

  “Do you, now?” He smoothed a hand over her ass. “I don’t. Not if you don’t put on some pants. I’m useless while you’re naked.”

  “Fine.” She climbed from the bed, only instead of grabbing her own clothes, she slipped her arms into his shirt and left it unbuttoned as she began to roll up the sleeves.

  Not better. The lingering madness surged as she wrapped herself in his scent, and there was something damn intriguing about all that bare skin peeking out from inside his clothing.

  He needed to find a cold mountain stream and take a long soak in it.

  “You’re huge,” she observed in a lazy drawl tempered by a spark of mischief.

  For the first time in fifty years, he thought he might be blushing. “You complaining?”

  “Never.” She buttoned the shirt and tilted her head toward the door. “I’m going downstairs to look around, find those supplies you mentioned.”

  “Hold up.” He rolled from the bed and dragged on his pants. “I’ll go with you. Last I checked, the boiler was damn near out of fuel. The least I can do is fetch more.”

  They’d neglected most of the dwelling for three days, only emerging from the bedroom—and the bed—when absolutely necessary. Paralee descended to the first-floor landing and looked around as if seeing the place for the first time. “It’s nice. A shame the Guild hasn’t been able to reclaim it.”

  “Wouldn’t have abandoned it, if I’d had a say.” The table held the remains of dinner—more of that clever stew of hers—and he could only vaguely remember watching over her as she ate. “The government gave up the mountains too easily. Sometimes I wonder if they’re going to roll over and stop fighting the vampires completely.”

  “Surely they wouldn’t.” She stopped in front of a door in the kitchen, jiggled the knob and peeked inside. “It’s a workshop of some kind.”

  “Outposts usually had at least one member of the Inventor’s Guild in residence.” He retrieved his knife on his way to the front door and studied his hand. “Why don’t you take a look while I head outside for more wood?”

  “It looks almost like…” The words trailed off as she slipped into the workshop.

  She’d be safe enough there, so Merrick jabbed the tip of his thumb. It took only a few drops of blood on the markings for magic to zip through him, a low level hum that left a sick emptiness in its wake.

  That wasn’t supposed to happen.

  The gears inside the door turned with a squeal of complaint, but he ignored the sound and pondered the gnawing void in his gut. It grew as he focused on it, grew until he tore open the front door, dispelling the last of the magic.

  Death.

  He hit his knees with a choked noise, his fingers twitching. Aching, like they’d twist into claws any second. Death throbbed in his skull, the pressing weight of the undead coming from every direction.

  He heard Paralee’s soft, bare footsteps behind him. “Merrick, there’s a—oh God, are you all right?” Her hand slid over his back as she knelt beside him.

  “The door—” He reached for it blindly, his hand spasming around the wood. “Close it. Now.”

  She complied immediately, slamming it shut with a clang. “What happened?”

  The press of death remained. Only the wards had blocked it out, and Merrick struggled to his feet. He fumbled until his bleeding hand hit the right spot, and magic flared, sealing the outpost against the outside.

  Paralee’s face swam into focus. He inhaled her scent, hoping to steady himself. “Vampires. More bloodsuckers than I’ve ever felt before in my life. They must be sleeping in the caves around us in every damn direction.”

  She paled but nodded. “Do you think they followed us, or that they’ve been here? No, you would have felt them when we arrived.”

  “They must have followed us, maybe even from the crash.” He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the trail that lay between them and the safety of the border. “Even if we set out at dawn, we couldn’t get far enough to be safe before nightfall. Not on foot. Maybe if we had a raft or a boat for the river...”

  Paralee swallowed hard. “That’s what I was coming to tell you. There’s a flying craft in the workshop—small, good for two or three people at most, but that’s all we need, right?”

  That made his stomach flip in a different way. Airships were one thing. They were large, reliable—when they weren’t being shot down—and they stayed afloat through means his unscientific mind could at least vaguely comprehend.

  The smaller, newer inventions, on the other hand… “Do you know how to fly something like that?”

  “I should be able to manage. If we can fuel it.” She took a deep breath and released it on a shaky laugh. “If the damned thing works at all. Those are very big ifs.”

  “All right.” He set the knife on the table. “Let’s see it, then.”

  It looked like a fucking wooden bird.

  Paralee ran her hand over one polished wing, all the way down to the pointed nose. Then she gestured toward the tiny cabin. “The controls are different from a larger ship. More like a glider.”

  He eyed it dubiously. “How does it stay in the damn sky?”

  “Its propellers spin.” She gave one a demonstrative whirl. “It has internal combustion engines. Probably runs on oil or some such. I can crack it open and find out easily enough.”

  “And it’ll go fast?” Fast was their only chance. Even if they stuck to the daylight, the vampires might have ghouls to set on them.

  “Fast enough, assuming it goes at all.”

  On the ground, he could fight. Use guns and knives, or tooth and claw if it came to that. If it had been just him, he might have taken the risk. In his bloodhound form he could cut a path through a dozen of vampires.

  But not with a mate at his side. The distraction would get him killed, would get them both killed.

  He had to trust her. “All right. Crack it open and find out what we need.”

  Chapter Six

  Paralee swiped her wrist over her forehead and grimaced. “Hand me that wrench, would you? I have to clean this section. Hopefully it’s got more than grease holding it together.”

  Merrick passed her the wrench as the electric lights flickered above them. “I’m going to have to start burning furniture to hold us until dawn. There’s plenty of it, though.”

  It still might not be enough time to get the craft flight-ready, but Paralee wasn’t willing to admit it—not until she’d ticked down her last hour of desperate effort. “I don’t think the Guild will miss a few tables and chairs, do you?”

  He huffed. “They won’t miss much of anything, I reckon. Feel free to steal the fine silver.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Trust me, if I thought this bucket would hold it along with us, I would. It’d be nice to have my ship back.”

  “I might be able to help with that if you get me out of here in one piece.”

  She fixed him with a glare, but it didn’t seem like quite enough, so she shook the wrench at him too. “You’d better not be implying what I think, Merrick Wood. I will not be a kept woman.”

  The man actually laughed. “Sweet girl, no bloodhound in this country has any business trying to keep a woman. I need a partner, not a pet.”

  “You’re talking about a job?�
�

  “I get coin to hire pilots and pay bribes and the like.” He grinned. “So do the other hounds. Sometimes it’s hard to find captains crazy enough to fly where we need to go.”

  Crazy. An apt enough description, considering the circumstances of their acquaintance. “I’ll tell you what. If you do, indeed, get out of here in one piece, I promise to let you help me. After that, I’ll fly you wherever you want to go, honey.”

  “I’ll even let you charge my friends.” Merrick leaned in and pressed a kiss to her grease-smeared cheek. “Just don’t flirt with them. I’ll toss them overboard and run out of friends awful quick.”

  “You’re so bad.” The levity felt wonderful, but all too quickly it gave way to more pressing practical concerns. “Do you know how these flying machines get airborne?”

  He shook his head. “Never seen one that managed.”

  “I’ll need a relatively flat, straight strip of land to get up some speed.” Paralee met his gaze evenly. “A clear strip, and quite a bit of speed. If we’re as surrounded as you say, it won’t be easy.”

  “There’s a clearing just beyond the station.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “The vampires won’t be able to take us during the day. It’ll all come down to whether or not they’ve got ghouls—and how many.”

  “The groups I’ve encountered usually do.” It was too simple to avoid them otherwise. Stick to the sunshine, and you’d get through just fine. Ghouls could walk freely in the light—and drag you back to their masters in the dark.

  Merrick nodded. “Ghouls are slow and stupid. I can handle a couple dozen on my own, but they can still slow me down.”

  “And ruin a perfectly good take-off.” Paralee tapped the aircraft’s frame. “You know, this was designed to fly low, and these brackets on the front could only have been designed to hold autofiring weapons.”

  “Really?” He squinted as he touched the brackets. “A pity they had to abandon it. I reckon it could come in mighty handy next time vampires try to take a border town.”

  “As well as now, if you can help me locate the weapons. They’d have had to modify them with remote triggers that can be activated from the control panel inside.”

  The lights flickered again, and Merrick groaned and rocked to his feet. “Let me chop up the kitchen table and feed it to the steam boiler. Then I’ll find you some weapons, you bloodthirsty wench.”

  “You like me this way, admit it.”

  “Abso-damn-lutely, sweet girl.”

  She refused to blush. Instead, she tossed the wrench aside and wiped her hands on the rough coveralls she’d found. “Just a few more things to check out, and I’ll be ready to test these engines.”

  “Good.” He reached down and caught her chin. “We’re going to make it.”

  “I know.” They just had to get past the vampires and in the air—nothing to it, provided everything went according to plan.

  The real problem was that hardly anything ever did.

  #

  The plane was lighter than it looked, but Merrick still had to fight to push it to the clearing, especially with death pressing in on him from every side.

  The vampires were awake. He wasn’t sure how he knew—hell, he couldn’t know, not really—but he’d bet his life on it. Awake and maybe peering down at him from the mountains at his back. Every snapped twig sent his blood surging until he fairly trembled with repressed energy.

  At least it made pushing the damn plane easier.

  Paralee stood on the wing, one arm stretched into the cockpit to steer the wheels. “I see the clearing. Let’s try to get as close to the hills as we dare, though. The more space I have to work with, the better our chances.”

  He grunted his understanding and pushed with renewed effort. Ghouls could be shambling through the trees even now. Or maybe the ghouls would try to shoot them down—a vampire might assume a dangerous crash could damage a bloodhound more easily than a handful of ghouls.

  So many ways to die, and he had to make sure none of them befell Paralee.

  “Just a little—” Her breath cut off in a rush. “Shit. We have visitors.”

  His skin prickled, as if the bloodhound already fought to break free. “How many?”

  “Four—no, seven. Eight…” She swore again and climbed into the pilot’s seat of the craft. “Enough to cause problems. We need to get this thing going now.”

  Eight ghouls weren’t so bad. He had a heavy gun strapped across his back and both hunting knives. “If I clear a path, can you get into the air from here?”

  She glanced at him incredulously. “Without you?”

  “Plan for the worst, love.” He heaved the plane over a rocky bit of ground and clear 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 trees whizzed by now, so Paralee eased forward on the control stick and exhaled when the tail end lifted a little. She could do this, clear the trees and circle around with her guns ready.

  Piloting the tiny craft was nothing like being at the helm of her ship. Her ship glided, whereas this thing was like being hurtled out of a damn cannon, flying fast and hard without a lick of the control to which she was accustomed. She’d have to rely on instinct, on the bounce and sway of the machine beneath her hands.

  She had to make it work.

  The front wheels left the grass, bumped back down and rose again. The wings tilted. She righted them with a gentle correction, but she couldn’t stop the fine wobble that made her stomach lurch. If she’d ever flown one of these goddamn machines before, maybe, but not her first time.

  She kept climbing and finally gained enough altitude to turn. When she did, the sight of the field below sent her lurching stomach straight up into her throat.

  Dozens of ghouls had converged on a single spot, kicking up grass and fabric. At first Paralee couldn’t tell if the clothes had been discarded or ripped away in a frenzy, and every breath came faster, shorter, until her head started to throb and swim.

  Then she saw Merrick. It had to be him, though the beast raking knife-like claws through a wave of ghouls bore no resemblance to the man she’d come to know. He towered over the ghouls, his hunching body covered in fur and his head that of a wolf—though no wolf she’d ever seen was so large.