The Wild Road (DS8) by Liu Marjorie M

Author:Liu, Marjorie M. [Liu, Marjorie M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Romance/Paranormal, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780062013781
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-06-08T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

There are over five million miles of paved road in the United States, a black tangle weaving from east to west and all the directions of the wind in between, and Lethe was quite certain she was doomed to travel every inch of them. She was like some female Odysseus, condemned to wander-blood behind her, uncertainty in front, monsters lurking at every turn.

It was midmorning by the time they drove into West Baden. Dried cornfields lined the curving lane, filled with crows dancing on their wing tips. Golden light crested the tops of the trees. Lethe’s eyes were gritty with exhaustion, but she was awake enough to appreciate the quiet beauty of the land.

She glanced at Lannes, who held himself rigid. His window was rolled all the way down to combat the smell of the dried blood soaked into the leather seats. Also, she thought, so that he could stay awake.

“You need to sleep,” she said, examining the curve of his shoulders, seeking out any indication of his wings. She saw nothing except a faint depression in the seat behind him, as well as a good inch of space between the leather and Lannes’ back. She hesitated, then gently poked the air behind him. Her finger hit something solid. Lannes flinched.

“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “Couldn’t help myself.”

He grunted. “I suppose you should be curious.”

“I suppose,” she said dryly. “I have a lot of questions. What you are, exactly, is at the top of them.”

“Gargoyle,” he rumbled. “That’s what my kind are called. Or Thunderbird. Mothman. Jersey Devil. Any legends involving humanoid types with wings are probably referring to my people.”

“Huh.” She leaned against the door, watching his human profile, which was craggy, weathered, and effortlessly masculine. Same as his touch, which still made her shiver. Jesus. She could not imagine what he looked like beneath the mask, and wondered if she would feel the same way if he ended up having horns sticking out of his head, scaly skin, or teeth like a piranha.

“Has any of your kind ever been caught?” she asked him.

Lannes gave her a sidelong look that was distinctly uncomfortable. “Occasionally. In the late eighteen hundreds, some cowboys in Arizona managed to kill one of us. Staked him to the side of a barn and took pictures, for money. He had family, though. Some human friends. They managed to get his body away, and the photographs.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Have your…people been around for a long time?”

“A long time,” he replied. “We were warriors once, and there was a battle between the creatures of this world. It resulted in a great cataclysm, and afterward we scattered and never fought again.”

“But you hide. All of you.”

“Some. Others have jobs, and families. We pay taxes. Most of our work can be done from home. Bookbinding, writing, artisan-type skills.” Lannes waved his very human-looking hand at her. “We hide in plain sight. And for those of us who can’t wear a mask, human deformity can explain the rest. It’s the twenty-first century.

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