Home > Magic Bite (Supernatural Bounty Hunter #1)(7)

Magic Bite (Supernatural Bounty Hunter #1)(7)
Author: Leia Stone


A howl rose up not far away, and he stopped approaching me, tilting his head to the side.

“That’s it,” I spoke in a low yet firm voice. “Go back to your alpha. I don’t want any trouble.”

His head snapped back in my direction and his nostrils flared again.

The burger!

Chucking the bag at his feet, I took one more step backwards toward my Jeep. Just three steps to go. My fist grasped the keys tightly, making sure they poked between my fingers. I’d try to gouge his eyes out if he lunged at me.

The werewolf bent low to smell the bag, then looked up at me and growled.

Shit. Stupid woman. What was I doing traipsing through the woods on a full moon near the alpha’s land? Everything within me wanted to lunge for my car, but sudden movements spooked wolves, and made them want to give chase. I stayed put.

We were at a standstill. It would have been an epic stare-down, but I knew better. I kept my eyes on the ground not to challenge him. Just as I thought I was going to survive this, another twig snapped behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see a mammoth gray werewolf with molten yellow eyes, and my stomach dropped.

Brock. I knew those eyes.

Brock’s wolf let out a low warning growl.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

As I turned back to look at the black wolf, he bounded through the air without warning.

All I could do was bring my hands up to cover my face and neck, but I didn’t get them up fast enough. I’d lost my concentration when Brock showed, and I was too slow for the black wolf. His paws landed on my shoulders, and suddenly, I was flying backwards. My petite frame hit the ground hard, and I cracked my head on the packed earth.

The next second, his sharp teeth tore into the side of my neck, where my collarbone met my shoulder. A terrified scream left my throat before I couldn’t scream anymore.

Pain like I’d never felt before ignited every nerve in my neck. Remembering my keys, I used what I could of my pinned arm to stab him in the ribs, as hard and as fast as I could. Just when I was sure he was going to bite me again and tear out my jugular, a streak of gray crashed into the black wolf and pushed him off me.

Dropping my keys, I pressed a hand to my bleeding throat—a slow, steady trickle of blood dripped from the gash. He’d missed my carotid or I’d be dead by now. The moon above me started to look fuzzy; my vision swam.

I’d been bitten by a werewolf. The reality of my situation sank in and panic exploded in my chest, sending adrenaline coursing throughout my body.

The two wolves were fighting, going at it hard, a mess of snarls and whimpers, when two gunshots popped from my porch. Turning my head agonizingly slowly, I saw Molly holding Gran’s shotgun with a fierce look in her eye. I followed her gaze to the black werewolf, who lay on his side, panting heavily.

Brock stood on two feet instead of four, covered in patches of grey fur and skin. Nothing was scarier than a half-shifted humanoid-looking werewolf. Well, nothing except being attacked, and bleeding out on the ground.

That was definitely scarier.

‘Evie, what the fuck is happening?’ Cass’ frantic voice popped into my head. ‘You feel like you’re dying.’

I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t form sentences. There was so much blood, so much burning pain… but there was also something else, a buzzing, like a live wire vibrating inside of me, shaking my body like a cage, trying to break free.

Suddenly Brock was there, looking fully like a hot naked man as he scooped me into his arms. Even in my half-dying state, I couldn’t help but notice the hard muscles on his body, the way everything fit just right. My glazed eyes even skimmed his junk. If these were my dying moments, then at least I’d gotten one last look.

When he stood with me in his arms, Molly aimed the shotgun at his head.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re taking her?” Molly’s voice was full of grit, and I decided right then she would be my new best friend—or at least my second-best friend. This girl had a huge pair of balls.

Brock growled. “I’m going to try to keep her from dying,” was all he said before he set off in a sprint.

His strong hand came up to pin my head to his chest, to keep it from jostling too much, when an overwhelming wave of dizziness hit me.

“What the fuck happened?” A voice joined Brock. “Is she human?”

My eyes couldn’t open anymore; they were too heavy. Everything was garbled, as if I were deep underwater.

“She’s a dud witch. Get Doc!” he barked.

I was too out of it to object to being called a dud, the word I usually hated.

Running footsteps.

“What about Nathan?” a new voice asked, this one grittier, more dominant.

“He knew the rules. Kill him,” Brock ordered.

Nathan? The guy who bit me? They were going to kill him for that? Shit. With every ounce of energy I could muster, I groaned. “No. Don’t… kill.”

I didn’t want some new wolf being put down on my account. I did wave a bag of burgers around the dark forest on a full moon. My decision-making skills were questionable at best.

Brock sighed, his warm breath coating my face. “Lock him in the barn. I’ll deal with him later.”

My face wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, so I smiled internally. He listened to me. We should start having regular sex. It was like I was drunk again.

‘You’re delusional,’ Cass confirmed. ‘Losing your mind. I have no idea what’s happening but I’m almost there.’

“Give her to me,” a firm female voice demanded.

I was deposited into another set of arms, and then someone’s nose was in my neck, sniffing long and hard.

“Why does she smell like she’s shifting?” the female asked.

“Fuck,” Brock snarled, and then everything went black.

7 It’s All Fun And Games Until You Get Bitten By A Werewolf

I’m in a nightmare, a very painful fucking nightmare, where my body isn’t my own.

There was no other reasonable explanation for the sensations sweeping through my body, making me desperate to break free of it.

It was as if an alien creature was swimming under my skin, looking for a place to pop out unannounced. Like in one of those horror movies where it makes you squirm just to look at the beating, pulsing mass, trying to break free of the poor fucker’s flesh.

Then came the part I’d probably never forget, not even if I lived as long as Gran had. Every. Single. Fucking. Bone in my body broke and shattered. I was sure of it, even in what was certain to be my delirious state. It sounded like chestnuts roasting over an open fire, only with none of that happy, sappy Christmas shit. I was a one-woman firecracker show, and I truly wished I were dead.

The searing pain rolling up and down my body was… torture. Maybe I’d already died and this was hell. That made a certain kind of sense. I’d been naughty plenty in life, though I didn’t exactly think I deserved hell. A good heart had to count for something, right?

I writhed and screamed, arching my body, but there was no escaping what was inside me. What had been inside me all along, as if a zipper along my skin had suddenly torn open, unleashing a beast that had been caged for the past twenty-four years.

Witch blood ran through my veins, which meant I was immune to the virus that turned ordinary humans into a werewolf after being bitten. Yet, in this out-of-my-mind state I was certain of only one thing.

I wasn’t a dud.

Never had been.

That was as big a lie as my entire life. I was something else, something new that I couldn’t yet identify, but I sure as hell was no dud. My neck burned like a motherfucker; it felt as if it were on fire, like my head was hanging from a single sinuous thread. Behind my forehead, an entire marching band drummed, and I hadn’t even had the pleasure of getting rip-roaring drunk.

I opened my eyes once, but all I managed to make out were bright lights and blurred shapes that more or less looked like people, maybe even a furry pink imp or two. Then the pain was too great, and I struggled to maintain consciousness while something tore through my body, intent on killing me, though making me beg for death first.

A whimper escaped me, and I felt hands on my arms in response. One set was probably Cass’; they were soft and fuzzy, but the other set was strong, and they held me tightly.

I writhed in agony, trying to claw at the place in my throat where the wolf had ripped me open, but my hands were quickly swept away, and pinned to my sides. The inability to thrash made everything worse.

Fuck that Nathan wolf. I should’ve let Brock kill him.

The burn seared, as if branding me, and bile rose in my throat. That double cheeseburger didn’t taste nearly as good coming back up. Finally giving in to the pain, I allowed the tears to stream down my cheeks.

I was strong, hell yes, but I wasn’t this strong. No one was this strong. This was like being torn to shreds, limb by limb, tissue from tissue, and then maybe, if I was lucky, put back together. Or maybe I’d be like Humpty Dumpty, who couldn’t be put back together again, and then I was royally screwed, and not in the fun way.

A wave of pain swelled at my neck, so intense that I clenched every muscle in my body against it. It raced down and across my body, which no longer felt like anything I recognized. I fought it so hard that I started panting.

In the end I lost the fight. I just wasn’t sure with what.

My consciousness drifted away to where, at least, there was no more pain. If I was dying, then so be it. Anything but this.

Gradually, I began to awake. It took a while for reality to hit—a grace period of sorts to prepare me for the motherfucking-hell-in-a-handbasket memory that I’d been attacked by a werewolf last night.

I groaned, thinking I heard something shuffle in the corner. That had me popping my eyelids open, and reaching for the gun I usually kept on the nightstand. Only this wasn’t my downtown loft. This wasn’t Gran’s cabin either.

“What the—?” I stopped. My throat was dry as the Sahara. “Where…?” I croaked. Where was I that had sheets with thread counts in the high millions?

I went to stretch and quickly aborted the mission. Every single muscle in my body ached, and not the I-just-started-a-new-workout kind of ache. This was like I was a survivor of the bubonic plague.

Footsteps pounded somewhere outside of the bedroom. Again I tried to find some sort of weapon to defend myself, just in case. The world of supernaturals had never been a safe one, and it seemed at the very least I had a pissed-off siren hunting me. I’d learned long ago that it paid to be paranoid and prepared.

But I couldn’t move. No, that wasn’t true at all. I could move, as long as I didn’t mind feeling like death in a doggie bag of flesh and bones.

‘Holy hell, Ev,’ Cass shouted in my mind, making me wince and try to pull away, only it was tough to pull away from a voice inside your head. ‘I’m coming.’

I hoped he wasn’t talking to me during one of his sexcapades, because with how I felt, I really could do without the image of my dear friend shaking it all loose.

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