The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance (Trisha Telep) (Kitty Norville 0.50)

It seemed to blink.

What was it waiting for?

Fuck it.

I roared at the thing, then managed to balance the sword’s considerable weight with my shoulders and elbows. When I touched my right foot to the floor, I sucked in a breath. Rage powered my muscles as they strained from the effort, but the pain centred me. Freed me.

The world narrowed to just the hallway, and the freak-ass creature blocking the door.

It bellowed and lunged towards me.

I bellowed and lunged towards it.

Let myself fall, screaming as my knee gave.

I rolled under the horrible claws and arcs of fire, then came up on my ass, swinging the sword.

“Low man wins!” I shrieked as the blade made contact with the creature’s blazing left ankle.

The impact made my teeth clamp together, but I kept hold of the sword, and sliced straight through the thing’s big, thick leg. My butt seemed to drive itself deeper into the floor as I made the cut, then I slid sideways as fire-beast howled and pitched towards the opposite wall.

Then the fucking monster blew up like a barrel of dynamite.

I felt the shock before I heard it, if I ever really heard it. Hot air slammed into me like a speeding train, shoving me hard and fast across the hall. My ears throbbed, then buzzed. My shoulder and head crushed against cinder block and the sword ripped free of my fingers. My vision dimmed, flickered. Darkness swept towards me, but powerful arms grabbed me and seemed to jerk me out of the abyss.

Moments later, I was cradled against a perfectly carved chest.

Smoke thinned, then swirled to nothing, and warmth — healing, not burning - poured through me. The mass of aches and pains in my body lessened, my knee straightened itself out and stopped throbbing, and the pressure on my ears eased. I could hear my own jerking breaths as I found myself looking into the liquid emerald eyes of John Doe.

Silver light outlined his dark curls, and the feathery arc of his wings rose above his well-defined shoulders.

Wings.

He really did have wings.

They were flapping slowly, almost gently, clearing River-view’s hallway of the smoke and stink from . . . from whatever that fire-thing had been.

A shocked, almost dumbfounded expression had claimed John Doe’s beyond-handsome face.

“You defeated a Raah,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, but without the terrible, mountainous resonance I had heard before we fought the monster.

Raah.

That word stirred something in my memory, but I couldn’t quite grasp the definition, or any image beyond the fiery beast that had invaded Riverview. I reached for my full awareness, the complete measure of my intelligence as a physician, philosopher, and devout practitioner of Sayokan - and the response I came up with was, “I defeated a what?”

From somewhere in the distance came the eerie moan of sirens, and I thought I heard voices and footsteps getting closer. Probably rushing towards us from upstairs, and from the front street entrance of the hospital.

John Doe held me tighter against him as he started walking, so close I could feel his heart beating with mine. That strange power I thought I had imagined earlier hummed between his skin and mine, everywhere we made contact. It made me tingle in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. He carried me out of the back door into the alley behind Riverview, but I didn’t feel the bite of the cold air, or even the wet kiss of the night’s light snow. I also didn’t feel threatened, or that I should try to escape his firm but tender grip. The terror I had felt when I met him had been replaced by a feverish blend of curiosity and wonder.

Did this man, this being, hold the key to that door I had locked on my past?

Do I want to open it?

Nothing ever changed. Nothing. No way.

Because I won’t let it? Because change scares me so badly I can’t even stand to consider it?

John Doe was staring at me so intently I wondered if he could see the blood pumping faster and faster through my veins.