Download Antoine de Saint-Exupery - Night Flight (1) PDF

TitleAntoine de Saint-Exupery - Night Flight (1)
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Page 2

Chapter One

A siren wailed through the clear night air.

Gillian eased off the accelerator, downshifted and steered her vintage Corvette onto the freeway shoulder.

About time! Where are the cops when you need them? She had started to think she would have to drive halfway to Los

Angeles to run into a speed trap.

She braked, then turned off the ignition just as a California Highway Patrol car pulled up behind her. Dinnertime! Gillian got

out of the driver's seat and stood by the open door, assuming a "lost waif" expression. Or as waiflike as a woman almost six feet tall

could look. Her elfin-thin face and boyish figure helped.

The officer emerged from the patrol car and strode toward her. He was blond, broad-chested, and tall, at least two inches

taller than Gillian. Good, she preferred males she didn't have to bend over uncomfortably far to nibble on.

"What's wrong, officer?" she said in a breathy whisper, to force him to approach closer to hear her. His

clean scent sharpened her appetite. This hunting method snared much more satisfying prey than she would

catch by cruising bars. "I didn't think I was speeding."

Brandishing his notepad, he said, "Miss, you were doing at least eighty-five."

"Oh—I'm sorry. I must have been daydreaming." She stretched out a hand to brush his collar with one fingernail, while her

eyes held his gaze. She knew he saw pinpoints of crimson glowing in their depths. She made no attempt to hide this inhuman trait,

for his vision was already glazing over. Even though still young for one of her kind, she had no trouble casting a glamour over any

human subject who wasn't prepared to resist.

"Daydreaming. Not a good idea on the freeway."

"I know. I'll never do it again. You don't want to give me a ticket, do you?" she murmured. Her touch intensified the effect of

her hypnotic stare.

"Not really—" His hands dangled, barely keeping a grip on the ticket book.

She pressed her fingertips to the warm flesh on the side of his neck, relishing the throb of the pulse beneath the skin. "Let's go

back to your car."

After guiding the man into the driver's seat of the police car, she slipped into the passenger side. She gently turned his head so

that his eyes focused on hers again. The car's radio crackled, unheeded by either of them. "Now I'm going to kiss you. You want

that, don't you?"

He slowly nodded.

She scattered feathery kisses over his cheeks and temples, avoiding his lips; somehow that contact seemed too intimate,

despite what she was about to do. His breathing quickened. His skin temperature rose, sharpening her appetite. Strong emotion

added spice to the blood, and sexual desire flavored it most intensely. Her empathic sense drank in his rising passion. The

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the woods—

His frustration evaporated in a surge of fear for her. What if that guy who's stalking her somehow followed us? I can't let

her wander out there alone. He dashed inside, grabbed a flashlight, and plunged into the forest in the direction Gillian had taken.

He didn't have any trouble tracking her. She'd left a trail of broken branches and trampled undergrowth. After a few minutes,

he noticed a crumpled ball of cloth on the ground. When he picked it up, he recognized Gillian's shirt.

What the hell--?

Paul increased his pace. Seconds later, he slammed to a halt at the edge of a clearing. The flashlight reflected off a pair of red


The world tilted under his feet. I don't believe this!

Chapter Nine

Muscles twitched under her skin. Frustration made a knot in her stomach. She stormed through the undergrowth, heedless of

the noise she made. Her peripheral vision caught glimpses of the auras of small animals that skittered out of her path. She growled

aloud. Her nerves crawled like a swarm of ants. How many nights of this can I take?

Panting like a panicked animal herself, she leaned against a tree and skimmed her hands down the front of her body. The

friction made her nipples peak. The burning in her throat and the pit of her stomach sparked a similar fire between her legs. One

hand, almost without conscious direction, plunged into the V and began rubbing. An unfamiliar wetness welled up. Wrapping the

other arm across her chest to press on her taut nipples, she vigorously massaged the source of the moist heat. After several minutes,

though, she still felt no relief. Snarling, she shoved herself away from the tree.

There was one thing she could do to work off these unwelcome urges. The need to change boiled up from deep within her. Fur

sprouted on her arms, neck, and face even before she stripped off her shirt and tossed it aside. The wings burst from her back. Her

teeth elongated into fangs, her nails into talons.

Though she had no room to fly under the trees, she could run. Her feet skimmed the ground, hitting the mat of pine needles

every couple of yards. Again, she made no attempt to glide silently or avoid the weeds and fallen branches in her path. When she

blundered into a clearing and sighted the halo of a deer's life-essence, she was nearly as surprised as the animal.

The doe, nibbling on the leaves of a sapling, whipped her head around to fix on Gillian. Gillian sprang too fast for the victim to

flee. No subtlety; she just crashed into the doe and knocked her down, with a blow to the head to stun her. Straddling the

unconscious prey, Gillian sank her fangs into the softness of the abdomen. The gush of blood granted momentary relief for the fire in

her stomach.

After a few swallows, she became aware of her surroundings again. That was when she heard human footsteps approaching.

She raised her head and confronted the glare of a flashlight.

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