Darcy was at his side, holding hands, and looking into perfect eyes of a nice brown shade.
“You never did give me your answer, love.”
“To what?” she asked.
“Uh...my proposal?”
“Oh, yeah. That.”
Darcy ducked her head, toyed with a flippant answer, and then just nodded. And it was enough.
~ ~ ~
Special preview of Vampire Assassin League #16
DO YOU TAKE
CHAPTER ONE
“Number seven! You’re up!”
“See you lakeside, kiddo!”
Ashley moved into position, grabbed the bar beside the door with gloves that still slid. She had a really bad feeling about this jump. She did a last second pat-down of her buckles.
“Now, Ash!”
She dove outward, keeping streamlined for a count of seven before opening her arms, slowing the flight, and just loving it. She loved the rush of air across her cheeks. The chill that meant light rain. The dark. The repetition of history. That’s why they had chosen this flight path.
This was Dan Cooper’s jump. The guy known as D. B. Cooper. The infamous hijacker who jumped from a Boeing 727 back in the ‘70s, and then disappeared. The man behind the only unsolved aircraft hijacking. They were following his flight path tonight almost to the letter, except for the altitude. They were beneath 10,000 feet. It was safer. And nobody was carrying wads of cash.
She wore clear goggles. She could have used night vision lenses, but that was cheating. She wanted the full experience. Real. Graphic. Visceral. And she didn’t want anything covered with a hazy green shade.
This was so cool. And so far, absolutely perfect. Even with the light rain falling, she could see dim outlines of mountains all about her, their peaks luminous in streaks from moonlight that broke through the cloud cover. Beautiful. And nothing like her inner sense had been warning her.
She checked her altimeter, hanging from a strap around her neck. She’d reached four thousand feet. Already? That was a shame. Nobody was to pull their ripcord until they reached two thousand. That was the pact they’d made. She might go before though. Not because she wasn’t experienced. Hell. She’d had more jumps than any of them. That’s what came of parents that were avid skydiving enthusiasts.
It was because of the rumble of worry in the pit of her belly. It might even be the one her parents had whispered of just before their fatal dive. When they hadn’t taken her along because she had the flu.
Enough of that, Ash . She’d scattered their ashes and memorialized them, and now she was just thrill-diving because she could. She looked at her altimeter again. Three thousand. On the count of seven, she was pulling the cord. Nobody would know except her.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
She pulled, and the cord came out of her suit. Nothing else happened. No rapid whoosh of sound that meant a parachute was released. No tug on her back. Nothing. She could still feel the cord in her gloved fingers, useless now. She spent a few seconds tucking it into a pocket. She might need that for investigation later.
Good thing she’d decided to go early. It usually took 800 to 1200 feet for a chute to deploy. No worry. A reserve chute only needed four hundred feet. No need to panic. The field belonged to clear heads. Always had. Ashley found the reserve cord and pulled.
And again, absolutely nothing happened, although the cord was still attached.
Shit .
Her gloves came off next. She pitched them over a shoulder, going totally against type, but she was barreling toward the Cascade Mountain Range at 120 miles per hour. She could worry about the environment later. After she’d landed. Once she’d joined the others at Meaker Lake. Gathered about the fire they planned. The camp they were going to set up. And she could definitely worry about littering the planet while downing a stiff shot of tequila.
She ran her fingers along her suit. Nothing anomalous. Everything in order. The ripcord for her reserve chute was still inoperative. Like it was glued in
“You never did give me your answer, love.”
“To what?” she asked.
“Uh...my proposal?”
“Oh, yeah. That.”
Darcy ducked her head, toyed with a flippant answer, and then just nodded. And it was enough.
~ ~ ~
Special preview of Vampire Assassin League #16
DO YOU TAKE
CHAPTER ONE
“Number seven! You’re up!”
“See you lakeside, kiddo!”
Ashley moved into position, grabbed the bar beside the door with gloves that still slid. She had a really bad feeling about this jump. She did a last second pat-down of her buckles.
“Now, Ash!”
She dove outward, keeping streamlined for a count of seven before opening her arms, slowing the flight, and just loving it. She loved the rush of air across her cheeks. The chill that meant light rain. The dark. The repetition of history. That’s why they had chosen this flight path.
This was Dan Cooper’s jump. The guy known as D. B. Cooper. The infamous hijacker who jumped from a Boeing 727 back in the ‘70s, and then disappeared. The man behind the only unsolved aircraft hijacking. They were following his flight path tonight almost to the letter, except for the altitude. They were beneath 10,000 feet. It was safer. And nobody was carrying wads of cash.
She wore clear goggles. She could have used night vision lenses, but that was cheating. She wanted the full experience. Real. Graphic. Visceral. And she didn’t want anything covered with a hazy green shade.
This was so cool. And so far, absolutely perfect. Even with the light rain falling, she could see dim outlines of mountains all about her, their peaks luminous in streaks from moonlight that broke through the cloud cover. Beautiful. And nothing like her inner sense had been warning her.
She checked her altimeter, hanging from a strap around her neck. She’d reached four thousand feet. Already? That was a shame. Nobody was to pull their ripcord until they reached two thousand. That was the pact they’d made. She might go before though. Not because she wasn’t experienced. Hell. She’d had more jumps than any of them. That’s what came of parents that were avid skydiving enthusiasts.
It was because of the rumble of worry in the pit of her belly. It might even be the one her parents had whispered of just before their fatal dive. When they hadn’t taken her along because she had the flu.
Enough of that, Ash . She’d scattered their ashes and memorialized them, and now she was just thrill-diving because she could. She looked at her altimeter again. Three thousand. On the count of seven, she was pulling the cord. Nobody would know except her.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
She pulled, and the cord came out of her suit. Nothing else happened. No rapid whoosh of sound that meant a parachute was released. No tug on her back. Nothing. She could still feel the cord in her gloved fingers, useless now. She spent a few seconds tucking it into a pocket. She might need that for investigation later.
Good thing she’d decided to go early. It usually took 800 to 1200 feet for a chute to deploy. No worry. A reserve chute only needed four hundred feet. No need to panic. The field belonged to clear heads. Always had. Ashley found the reserve cord and pulled.
And again, absolutely nothing happened, although the cord was still attached.
Shit .
Her gloves came off next. She pitched them over a shoulder, going totally against type, but she was barreling toward the Cascade Mountain Range at 120 miles per hour. She could worry about the environment later. After she’d landed. Once she’d joined the others at Meaker Lake. Gathered about the fire they planned. The camp they were going to set up. And she could definitely worry about littering the planet while downing a stiff shot of tequila.
She ran her fingers along her suit. Nothing anomalous. Everything in order. The ripcord for her reserve chute was still inoperative. Like it was glued in
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