Wicked Prayer by Norman Partridge

Author:Norman Partridge [Partridge, Norman]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Horror, Media Tie-In
ISBN: 9780061073496
Google: SsTO2BestR4C
Amazon: 0061073490
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2000-11-07T08:00:00+00:00

Las Vegas, Nevada

The Crow constellation loomed above Las Vegas, and Johnny Church's '49 Mercury raced toward the city as if it were some dark Bethlehem.

There was no outrunning daylight, though. Not for Church, who hunched behind the wheel like a black leather gargoyle . . . not for a jabbering exhibit of the cannibal's lost art that went by the name of Raymondo . . . not even for a woman like Kyra Damon. Inevitably, the stars faded from view, and soon Kyra blinked a single sandpaper blink and when she opened her stolen eyes the constellation Corvus was quite suddenly gone.

As if someone shot it right out of the sky, Kyra thought. But that was impossible. The constellation would return when darkness fell, and when that happened she would find the exact destination that her vision demanded.

It would be difficult, but Kyra knew she could wait one more day for that to happen. Until then . . . well, it wasn’t like it was hard to find a place to stay in Vegas, or a thousand twisted ways to occupy her time.

Kyra could certainly use some rest, if she was up to such a mortal pursuit. Not that she’d really have time for sleep. There was a lot to do in the space often or twelve hours, before darkness blanketed the desert and her clear blue Crow eyes turned once more to the stars.

Kyra smiled. There was time for everything, really. Time to get things done, and time to enjoy the moment. She’d earned that time, the same way she’d earned the things she was determined to take from the Crow, the same way she’d earned every precious, desperate moment of life that she’d ever enjoyed or endured.

Kyra Damon had bought every ticking second of it with anger and rage, with bullets and blood and a big piece of her soul. It was hers. All of it. She knew that now. She saw it clearly with eyes she’d stolen from another woman, a woman who probably hadn’t even understood the depth of her own power.

Everything Kyra had ever wanted was finally within her reach.

She’d have it all, and soon.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the time to enjoy the moment.

After all, it wasn’t every night that a girl got herself married . . . and Kyra wasn’t thinking of anything quite so mundane as her impending nuptials with Johnny Church. That kind of union didn’t matter to her. Men and women stood in front of ministers and slipped rings on their fingers all the time, then they slipped them off and called a lawyer. That was nothing new.

No, mortal marriage didn’t interest Kyra Damon, any more than Johnny Church did. That wasn’t what this was about, not at all, though poor Johnny couldn’t understand that.

Johnny was interested in making Kyra Damon his own. First, last, and always.

But Kyra was interested in another kind of union.

A union with a black bird.

A union with its power.

Daylight broke over

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