"Mickey Zucker Reichert - Shadow Storm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichert Mickey Zucker)

over the side to focus on the figure far below. Then, he stepped back,
spinning Stacy to meet his hard, blue gaze. "I am your father."

Stacy struggled to break free, but his grip tightened and he seized her
other arm as well. He slammed his knee into her crotch so hard that the
pain made her knees buckle, and she slumped. He kicked her in the chin,
and her scalp smacked against the concrete. She heard a distant,
desperate shout from below. Draybin hefted his stepdaughter, pinning her
against the concrete slab. "You ungrateful little bitch, I'll throw you over.
I'll just goddamn throw you over!"

Terror exploded through Stacy's mind. She wrestled desperately,
kicking, swinging, and writhing without conscious direction or
understanding.

Then HE came without her needing to call, bringing a gust of wind so
violent that the glass door to the balcony shattered, raining fragments. He
clutched an "S" in each fist, muted to the shape of glowing clubs, and he
charged Matthew Draybin with a bull bellow of fury.
 Stacy and Shadow Storm fought together, a wild blur of fear and fury.
Her fists pummeled flesh, though a red fog of need and hysteria blinded
her to whose. She could hear the meaty thud of club against body. Then
her mother's scream tore her attention to the broken terrace doorway.
Mary Draybin stood, freeze-framed in open-mouthed horror.

In the instant that Stacy paused and looked, Matthew Draybin seized
both of her flailing arms in a viselike grip. At the same time, Shadow
Storm's club caught the stepfather a solid clout across the ear. Impact
hurled him sideways, twisting over the concrete barrier. His hold winched
tighter instinctively, and Stacy flew over the balcony wall and into
oblivion.

Stacy screeched, hands clawing air in helpless desperation. Air whistled
and surged around her, spinning her in a crazed circle that severed
Draybin's grip. She tumbled past three balconies, the scream an
unstoppable constant in her ears. Then, strong arms enwrapped her,
crushing her against a massive chest covered with tautly stretched red
fabric. The S's now served as hawk wings, gliding superhero and cargo
gently toward the concrete sidewalk.

Stacy clung, all fear dissolving in an instant. She clung to the solid
reality of her savior, knowing a strength and security she had no wish to
question. The faint fragrance of his aftershave cut through the damp,
smoggy air. She felt a sudden jolt as he landed, then realized that other
arms held her now: still huge, though not quite so mountain-hard and
clothed in a cotton button-down shirt she knew well. She huddled into
Sean Sterner's grip, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her
face into his shirt. He hugged her, at first with shocked hesitation, then
with a vigor that all but suffocated her. They both cried.