By Connie Hall
Within the final showdown among mild and darkness who will triumph? All her lifestyles Takala was hoping to discover the mummy who'd deserted her. yet she'd by no means anticipated the lady to be a shadowy double agent within the underworld. Nor did she expect falling for the very vampire who sought after her mom destroyed. Like his identify, Striker used to be ruthless...and the sexiest factor Takala had ever visible. Her white-magic and her dedication have been defenceless opposed to him. yet Takala did not comprehend the long-dead ardour she roused in him may perhaps kill her. for hundreds of years, Striker had denied himself human blood, yet now Takala had resurrected that bloodlust...and basically hers could fulfill him...
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Extra info for Nightwalker (Harlequin Nocturne)
Someone was on their way out. Takala slowed, about to pull over, when a woman appeared at the door, carrying a suitcase. Takala compared the woman’s features to the old photo she’d found hidden in Meikoda’s hope chest. Her grandmother had said she’d destroyed every picture of Skye when the tribe renounced her, but Takala knew Meikoda couldn’t wipe out all the pictures of her only daughter. She had to have kept one, and Takala hadn’t given up until she discovered it. Since finding it, she’d only looked at it a thousand times.
The Boeing 747 was a wide-body with three aisles. The coach section was full to capacity. She chose the left aisle and walked back to the restroom. As she suspected, most of the passengers were sleeping, but a few glassy-eyed insomniacs were watching movies or listening to music through headphones. She dialed Fala’s cell-phone number. ” “Fala, it’s me,” Takala whispered so as to not wake up anyone. ” Takala paused at the door to the head. ” Fala sounded a little disappointed. ” “Well, he’s a shifter.
The creature looked female, but not all human. Her hair was whitish green, stubbly. A green, sticky ooze covered lips that were so wide they looked like a distorted image in a funhouse mirror. She wore a black jumpsuit designed so that the sticky proboscis that jutted from her belly could pop out unencumbered. It looked like a third hand but with suction cups for fingers. She clung to the car by it, her supple body crouched there like a fly on flypaper. The creature smiled; then her long, grotesque tongue flicked out.