The Slayer by Theresa Meyers Page A

over a hundred feet above the desert, looked even more ominous as it darkened the sky. Winn had seen these storms tear whole houses away. He sent up a prayer that the fabric and ribs of the dirigible were strong enough to withstand the coming storm.

Chapter 6
    The airship shook, the engines whining loudly and sputtering slightly as the blast of wind-whipped sand hit them. “I sure hope those engines hold out,” Winn said over the hissing sound of sand scouring the fabric of the dirigible and the wood and glass of the gondola. The shuddering of the ship grew worse, making Winn’s teeth vibrate. “I ain’t exactly ready to die yet.”
    For a moment it seemed they were suspended in the murk, unable to see more than ten feet in any direction. Bits of paper, dried tumbleweeds, even an old shoe went sailing past as the ship powered forward, determined to stay in the sky despite the forceful strength of the dust storm.
    The ship dipped hard and fast, causing Lady Drossenburg to stumble. Winn caught her about the waist and held her for a moment, bracing his feet wide against the erratic sway of the ship. She was soft under his hands, far more woman than monster.
    â€œDying isn’t so bad,” she murmured. “You could always try becoming undead.”
    Winn pulled away from her, giving himself a mental shake. That would teach him for thinking of her as anything other than Darkin. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not interested.”
    His agitation increased. They were in real danger. If a monsoon were pushing the sand ahead of it, they were about to get pounded by wind and driving rain. The ship struggled to maintain its position and actually started going sideways.
    Grime on the windows turned to dark, tear-like streaks as fat raindrops began pelting the ship, the sky ominously dark ahead of them. Winn ground his teeth together and glanced at the contessa. “You better hold on to something,” he muttered. The fury of a monsoon could be terrifying and destructive.
    CRAAAACK . A flare of light lit the sky, brilliant white like flash powder.
    BOOM! The thunder shook the ship hard enough that a jagged line zipped along the wide pane of glass at the front edge of the gondola as it cracked. More lightning tore across the sky followed by thunder, in bursts so fast it looked and sounded like gunfire on a battlefield. Winn and the contessa covered their ears and crouched low to the carpeted floor of the gondola.
    Torrents flowed from the sky, rain hitting the airship in massive sheets. Amid the earsplitting thunder, the high whine of the engines stopped, their sudden silence constricting Winn’s chest like a vise. The ship pitched violently downward, furniture starting to slide toward them.
    Winn grabbed the contessa, wrapping himself around her so she wouldn’t get hit. “We’re going down!” she yelled over the noise of the lashing rain and booming thunder.
    â€œIn that case, you better hope it’s quick,” he yelled back, his heart beating hard in his chest, his stomach crawling up into his throat as they began to free-fall.
    Winn had never intended to die like this—well, at least not surrounded by Darkin he was working with. He realized with a start there was still more he wanted to do. Things he’d been putting off while playing it safe. He wanted to see more than just the four unpainted walls of his office in Bodie. Wanted to ... live up to the legacy left to him. But deep down festered the doubt that he ever could.
    A sputtering cough and fitful stop and start of the engines gave him a small burst of hope, but then they quit again.
    â€œWe’re not going to survive, are we?” she murmured against his chest.
    â€œGive your crew a chance,” he replied, even while he was thinking that without the engines they didn’t have a prayer.
    A sputter and cough and one engine started up enough to slow their descent. A minute later the