Secrets

Description

Secrets – Mychael Black

Kris Winters is on the hunt for an unusual thief. Paranormals are par for the course, but he’s not looking for just any non-human creature. David Parker is simply doing what dragons do: hoard. He enjoys the thrill of his work, and getting away is easy enough: he sprouts wings. When he meets a sexy-as-sin detective, however, he quickly finds that he can’t hide forever.

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EXCERPT:

His lungs screamed with every inhale and his chest ached with the relentless pounding of his heart. Blood boiled in his veins and he strained to keep the beast within, at least until he was out of the city.

A squad car drove by, unaware that their quarry stood a few feet away, effectively hidden in the shadows.  He had managed to escape them, much to even his surprise.  This job had been worse than he thought it was going to be.  His prize felt heavy in his pack, weighing him down despite his nimbleness. If he got out of the city, though, he would be well ahead of his pursuers.  He glanced to the sky, noting the positions of the stars that sparkled overhead.  South was the best route once out of town.

Shouts came from nearby and he flattened himself against the brick wall. Taking a chance, he edged around the back of the building and skirted along the shadows. Sixty grand rested on his success. The one who’d hired him was one of his best customers, which meant failure was not an option. This damn job hadn’t played out as it should have. Somehow, the cops had known… and they’d been waiting. He’d managed to slip away, but just barely

Keeping to the darkness, he slipped from one building to another, always aware. By the time he reached Richmond Avenue, he knew he had to change. He stepped away from the wall and stripped. Then he put his clothing in the bag and closed his eyes. He felt the tattoo covering his back flare with heat, the lines beginning to move. The blood slowed in his veins, cooled by the changes within his body.  His internal organs shifted into place.  Then his body began to expand slowly.  His skin hardened as flesh gave way to thick, armored scales.  Fingers morphed into talons; three horns pushed out from his skull.  His teeth lengthened beyond his lower jaw as his face contorted and stretched — mouth, chin, and nose forming a snout.  Brilliant green eyes darkened to jet, and his black hair adhered down the length of his back to form a wispy ridge.

Massive, dark green wings flapped, and, with a hiss, he rose into the air, the pack clutched in his right claw.  Cops ran down the alley and skidded to a halt. Their bullets bounced off his thick hide. He laughed — a low, rumbling sound that shook everything around them — and his snout widened in a grin, baring dagger-like teeth.

“Too bad, gentlemen,” he called from the air, his thundering voice overpowering the gunfire, “maybe next time.”