Page 5 of Dark Hunter's Touch
Earlier, she had jogged around the headland through shallow water where a small river cut through the cliff rocks. At high tide like now, she would normally hike up into the trees to catch the road back rather than risk a scramble over the loose stone on the high cliff. But if they headed inland or tried to descend toward the mouth of the river, the Hunt would capture them.
Anyway, she would be captured. With the three-headed dogs on their scent, Vaile wouldn’t be so lucky.
“You’re faster than me,” she gasped back. “Run ahead, toward the ocean. The hunters won’t cross the moving water of the river.”
“Not gonna happen.” His voice was grim despite the wheeze.
“I’ll lose them in the trees.” Not likely, but at least he would have a chance.
“Won’t leave you.”
They were closing fast on the cliff edge, chunks of rock under the sand threatening to break an ankle. The Hunt was closer yet behind them, and the breath of the hounds was an icy dread on their heels. The enraged baying eclipsed the twilight, rising to a gibbering cackle and promising doom.
Still, Vaile didn’t veer off. The rock, brittle and gray, broke under their pounding feet. The scrabble of long claws hissed behind them.
Olette sucked in a huge breath, the mist of fresh river water on her tongue.
She slowed by one step, letting Vaile draw just a heartbeat ahead. He must have sensed her hesitation because he looked back for her. The black edge of the cliff made a broken line against the evening sky just a stride beyond.
She lunged at him and caught him around the shoulders. Salt and heat exploded between them at the contact. The force of her blow knocked them in an arc over the edge.
Below, the little river glimmered moon-silver. The breeze skirled around them, as if desperately wanting to hold them aloft.
The three hounds skittered to a halt at the edge of the cliff with a howled chorus of rage. When she dropped her glamour and the illusion of humanity fell away, their nine-part harmony of preternatural wrath spiraled to the stars.
She held Vaile close and spread her wings.
Chapter 2
It had been a very long time since he’d fallen so hard for a girl.
And from his precarious position dangling two stories above rock and sand and river, Vaile thought it just might get harder yet.
“Don’t squirm,” his flight attendant warned. “I’m trying not to drop you.”
“That’s comforting.”
They came in low and fast, skimming the river. Then his trailing legs caught a dune, and they went rolling in a ball of sand, seawater and swearing.
He staggered to his feet, instantly whirling to face the cliff they had descended so fantastically. The three misshapen dogs paced the rim, drawing back only to make room for the horned rider who stared down.
Vaile gave him a vigorous middle finger.
“Don’t mock them.” Olette climbed to her feet a few steps away.
“Why? Will they do something worse than push us over a cliff?”
“Technically, they didn’t push us. I did.”
“Ah. True. But since you were trying to save my life, I forgive you.”
She stared at him. “You’re taking this awfully in stride for someone who just flew off a cliff.”
“I have a long stride,” he reminded her. “Plus, I have more pressing issues, such as the impressive amount of sand in my shorts.”
Her gaze flicked downward. “Oh. That’s all just sand?”
For a moment, he thought his cheeks actually heated. But it must have been road rash from the tumble.
