Moon Bitten (Fur 'n' Fang Academy Book 1): A Shifter Academy Novel

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Moon Bitten (Fur 'n' Fang Academy Book 1): A Shifter Academy Novel Page 1

by C. S. Churton




  MOON BITTEN

  Book 1 of the Fur ‘n’ Fang Academy Series

  C. S. Churton

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or to living persons alive or dead. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

  Cover by May Dawney Designs.

  Copyright © 2020 by C. S. Churton

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One

  Home sweet home. You know, if you added a little paint, and a crap load of imagination.

  I swept my gaze over the farmhouse, very different from the one in my memory. The farm I’d spent my early childhood on had a beautiful grey stone farmhouse with gleaming windows, and a pristine red barn, surrounded by acres of cultivated fields.

  This one? Not so much.

  I took the two keys from the plain white envelope, and slotted the larger of them into the keyhole, but before I could even attempt to turn it, the door swung inwards, half-hanging from one of its hinges. Great.

  I hadn’t been here in nearly a decade, and the years had not been kind to Oak Ridge Farm. I crossed the threshold into the kitchen, leaving footprints in the grime coating the weathered stone flooring as I went. Dingy light filtered in through yellowed windows, and the air tasted the way it does when it’s been stagnating for years. I leaned over the sink and gave one of the dirty windows a shove, but it didn’t budge. Probably sealed shut with years of filth. Great. I gave it up for a bad job and strolled through the rest of the house, trying not to breathe too deeply.

  Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea, after all. I mean, sure, free accommodation while I went to uni had sounded great, and it was real nice of Uncle Bob to offer me the use of the place – did I mention for free? – but had he seen the state of this place recently? It was going to take a whole lot of work to make the place even remotely habitable. And I didn’t like the way the hallways echoed with memories that I’d long since buried. Coming back here had been a mistake.

  But university was starting in three weeks, and there was no way I could find somewhere else now. And I couldn’t afford it, either, unless I was going to get an evening job, and I would really like to avoid that. Studying law was going to be hard enough without a job eating into my study time.

  Three weeks. That had to be long enough to get the place fixed up – or at least, fixed up enough that I didn’t have to worry about any animals busting in while I was sleeping, and so that I didn’t worry I was going to catch something every time I touched a surface. I was going to need a hardware store – and a whole lot of cleaning supplies. Yeah, I decided, as I stepped back out into the clean air and the fading sunlight. If I could get accepted to study law at University College London, I could absolutely do this.

  I glanced down at my watch and sighed. It would have to be tomorrow. The drive up here had taken longer than I’d thought – thanks, motorway traffic – and the store would be closed by now. But I could probably find something to jam the door shut with, and– My eyes came to rest on the old barn, stopping me mid-thought. Maybe I wouldn’t need to sleep in the house tonight. Sure, the barn was a bit dilapidated, but it still looked pretty sturdy, and it wasn’t cold at night this time of year.

  I wandered over to it and rattled the doors. They didn’t swing open or collapse at my touch, which in my books was a winner. The door handles were secured with a rusty chain and padlock – proving that crime is a concern no matter where in the country you are – and I used the second key to coax it open, then tossed both the lock and the chain on the floor.

  It was dark inside – trees and weeds had long since overgrown the windows – and it took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the gloom. A few dust webs hung from the high ceilings, but at least the floor wasn’t covered in the sticky grime, and the air didn’t taste like something dead. It was settled, then. I’d grab my stuff from the car, and sleep here tonight, like I had dozens of times as a kid. Then tomorrow, I’d get to work on fixing up the house.

  I headed back outside into the fading light. I’d forgotten how quickly it got dark out here. No streetlamps – hell, no streets – for miles in any direction, and when the sun set, the small lights on the farmhouse seemed to cast more shadows than light.

  A dark shape drifted across the front of the house and I jumped, then laughed as the shadow moved with me. My shadow. And then the laughter died on my lips as something flitted across the tangled foliage beyond the barn. I froze, peering into the gloom, scanning the near darkness. Nothing but stillness and my own imagination peered back.

  I shook my head at my own stupidity and turned for the car. First night back at the farm, I guess it wasn’t so unusual to see shadows moving where there ought not to be shadows. An over-active imagination, that had always been my problem. Sleeping in the barn sure was going to be fun tonight.

  I hit the fob to unlock my car – city habit – then opened the rear door and leaned in to grab my stuff. I’d brought more than I needed. Much more, probably, but I wasn’t planning on heading back to the city until the end of the first semester. Maybe not even then. For now, though, I just needed my sleeping bag and a pillow. And the camping light I’d packed, because maybe I’d gone soft living in the city, but it was just a shade too dark here for my liking.

  Gravel crunched behind me, and I jumped back, cracking my head on the car’s interior. I blinked through the pain and spun around.

  A scream ripped through my throat. Stalking towards me was the biggest dog I’d ever seen. Its fur was mottled, like a husky or wolf, but it was twice the size of any dog I’d ever seen before. Its hackles were up as it advanced on me, teeth bared in a terrifying snarl.

  I threw a frantic glance at the farmhouse, but it was too far. I’d never make it. And if growing up on a farm had taught me one thing, it was that you don’t run from a feral dog. Especially not one the size of a small horse. My hand groped behind me for the open car door. If I could get inside, I’d be safe.

  As if it could read my mind, the dog snarled another warning. It was so close I could feel its hot breath across my skin. It took another step towards me, the movement revealing heavy slabs of muscle beneath its fur. The rising moon glinted on its yellowed fangs. Each paw was the size of my hand, tipped in wickedly curved black claws. I had a flash of those claws and fangs sinking into my body, and my legs trembled under me.

  Just get in the car, Jade, I told myself. Very slowly, get into the car.

  I followed my own advice, lifting one trembling foot from the floor, and ducking my head slightly.

  And that was when the dog leapt at me.

  Its teeth seized my leg, slicing through the denim of my jeans and cutting into the skin. I cried out in pain and the sound seemed to drive the animal into a frenzy. It snarled again, worrying at my leg and backing away, pulling me with it. I snatched at the top of the car door, but there was no purchase and the beast easily dragged me off. I hit the ground hard and my forehead smacked into the packed dirt. My vision blurred as tears sprung to my eyes, and the pain in my right leg only heightened as the creature kept dragging me away from the car. I kicked out with my left, slamming it into the beast’s face, and the impact jolted all the way up to my hip. The creature didn’t so much as blink, and I kicked at it again and again, the whole time my hands frantical
ly scrabbling across the packed dirt and loose gravel, but it might as well have been sand for all the grip I managed to get.

  “Get off me!” I screamed at the animal, kicking its snout again. It snarled in response, worrying at my leg and sending scores of agony racing through my calf. I twisted over onto my back and snatched up a handful of dirt and gravel from behind me, then hurled it at the thing’s eyes. It blinked and shook its head, the movement tossing me around like a rag doll. I cried out in pain, groping the ground for anything I could use as a weapon – a stick, a rock, anything – but there was nothing. I hurled another handful of grit in its face, but it ducked its head aside, keeping its teeth wrapped around my leg.

  What the hell was wrong with this thing? Dogs weren’t supposed to act like this. Dogs weren’t supposed to be that big, either. My head throbbed as I stared into its gleaming eyes. Pure malice stared back at me. Who would keep a dog like this?

  “Let me go!” I screamed. “You stupid mutt, get off me!”

  I punctuated my words with furious kicks, each one a little weaker than the one before. Blood soaked through my jeans, and the pain and the head injury were making me dizzy. If I passed out, this thing was going to kill me. I gulped and tried to force the pain to the back of my mind.

  I kicked again, but my foot glanced off its shoulder, as effective as a rolled-up newspaper on a T-Rex. I knew it, then. It was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  I lifted my leg again, and every burning muscle screamed in protest. The beast snarled at me and I snarled right back. If I was going down, I was going down fighting. I hope I gave the damned thing indigestion.

  Another snarl ripped through the air, this one from behind me. A whimper of terror from my lips. There were two of them. I twisted my head round, and watched the second dark shape advancing on me, its teeth bared in an identical snarl to the first beast’s.

  I silenced the tiny sounds of fear escaping from me. I was dead, anyway. Didn’t much matter if it was one or two animals. I scraped up another handful of grit. It wasn’t much, as weapons went, but if I got close enough, it might ruin his night. Good enough for me.

  The beast sunk down onto its haunches and leapt clean over me, slamming into the other animal. I howled in pain as the force ripped the teeth loose from my flesh, and then the two animals were rolling in a tangled mass of limbs and fur, snarling and snapping at each other. I shuffled back across the floor, dragging my bleeding leg behind me. I had to get to the car. I had to get inside – before whoever won the fight came back for me.

  I kept dragging myself, biting down on my lip to keep the sounds of pain from escaping. A trail of blood marked my progress, and my head swam. I screwed my eyes tight. Not now, please. I had to get out of here. Then I could pass out. I swallowed and hauled myself back a few more feet, not daring to drag my eyes from the fighting pair. Neither seemed able to get the upper hand, and the noise of the fight rang in my ears, growing louder and louder with each snap of gleaming fangs.

  A third voice joined the cacophony, this one from somewhere off to my left.

  “No, no, no,” I whimpered. Not more. Where did they keep coming from?

  The two beasts broke apart, raising their heads towards the sound of the newcomer. A gunshot rang out, loud and clear, and the two dogs bolted, disappearing across the field without another sound. I swallowed. Guns, dogs, what the hell was going on?

  Two more beasts tore across the farmyard, following the trail of the others, their claws seeming to shine silver in the moonlight. Footsteps crunched towards me and I twisted round, then exhaled a ragged breath of relief. Human. He was human.

  He was walking towards me, a rifle held across his body, his face shadowed by the harsh moonlight behind him, so that I couldn’t quite make out his features. I didn’t care. He wasn’t a dog, and he wasn’t going to eat me. I was safe.

  I slumped my head back into the dirt and let unconsciousness take me.

  Chapter Two

  The pain woke me from my sleep. I twisted with a gasp, the images of my vivid nightmare flashing in front of me, and clutched at my head. I’d hit it when I fell. When the dog attacked me… no, wait, that had been a dream… hadn’t it?

  I forced my eyes to part. Murky light filtered into the vaguely familiar room, and it took me a moment to place it. The farmhouse. I was in the farmhouse. And a dog had attacked me.

  I sat up, and another lance of pain shot through me, this one in my calf. I stared down at it, and saw someone had cut away my jeans’ leg, revealing a jagged circle of tooth marks. The dog bite. It hadn’t been messing around – it meant to finish me.

  The door creaked, and my head whipped round. A figure eased it open and stepped through.

  I scrambled back until my back pressed up against the headboard.

  “Hey, easy,” the stranger said, freezing where he stood. I looked him up and down, taking in his dark, blood-stained clothing, and the rash of stubble covering his jaw. “You’re safe now.”

  “It was you,” I said. “Last night, with the gun. The dogs…”

  He nodded and took a step closer, leaving the door open behind him.

  “Yeah. I scared them off. Don’t worry, they won’t be back. Looks like they got you pretty good.”

  He nodded to my leg and I looked down at it again, this time noticing that there was no blood or dirt caked around the wound itself. Jesus, those teeth must’ve been huge.

  “You cleaned it?”

  “I had to cut off your jeans. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I shook my head mutely. I’d probably be dead right now if he hadn’t come along, so I wasn’t going to be complaining about an old pair of jeans any time soon.

  “I’ve got some food cooking in the kitchen if you feel up to it.”

  I frowned, glancing out of the grimy window.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after ten.”

  “In the morning?”

  “If you can call ten a.m. morning,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was missing my point.

  “Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Mr….”

  “Caleb. Caleb Morgan.”

  “Right. But don’t you think it might have been a good idea to take me to a hospital?”

  “Why?”

  I gaped at him for a moment, then gestured down at my leg.

  “Uh, I don’t know, maybe because I was savaged last night?”

  “Look.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I cleaned it, and I gave you an antibiotic shot. They wouldn’t have done anything different at the hospital, trust me. Except it would have taken them hours to see you, and the infection would have set in by then.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Um… thanks.”

  He shook his head and dropped his arms.

  “Forget it. You had a scare last night. So, do you want some food?”

  My stomach growled, answering the question for me – I’d missed dinner while I was on the road last night.

  “I should get cleaned up first.”

  He tilted his chin to the corner of the room, where I recognised the half-dozen bags piled up.

  “I brought your bags in from the car. I’ll give you some privacy.”

  He left the room, shutting the door behind him. I listened to the sound of his footsteps receding down the hall, and swung myself off the bed, wincing when I put weight on my injured leg. What a great welcome back to the farm. Maybe I should have looked for a room share close to campus after all. If there were packs of wild dogs roaming around, there was no way I was staying here. One near-death brush was enough for me.

  I rummaged through my bags until I found some clean clothes, then pulled a brush through my hair, wincing as I tackled the knots. Gee, it was almost like I’d been dragged through the dirt backwards. Thanks for the warning, Uncle Bob. There was no way I was looking human again until I’d had time for a shower, and there wa
s no way I was chancing that with tall, dark, and handsome in the kitchen. Because he might be hot, but he was still a stranger. One who saved your life last night.

  I sighed and tossed my brush aside. My hair was a lost cause. I pulled it back into a loose pony, then limped down the hallway, supporting myself with one hand against the wall.

  “Hey,” Caleb said, when I hobbled into the kitchen. “Let me get you a chair.”

  He left the hob and pulled one of the chairs out from the table, dusting away a year’s worth of dirt with a sweep of his hand.

  “You need some help?”

  I shook my head and limped over to the table, grimacing with each step. I paused a moment when I got there, leaning on the table, and then slumped into my seat. Caleb watched me silently, then went back to the hob.

  “I found some food in your car. Hope you don’t mind.”

  I didn’t. I’d done a grocery run on the way up here – eggs, milk, bread, bacon, coffee, the essentials – and right now I felt like I could eat the whole lot in one go. Caleb put a plate of steaming food in front of me, next to a mug of coffee, then grabbed another plate and mug, and claimed a seat on the opposite side of the table, giving me plenty of space.

  “So,” he said, as I shovelled a piece of bacon into my mouth, and washed it down with the coffee, “I didn’t get your name earlier.”

  I blushed and lowered my fork.

  “Jade. Er, Hart.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jade, er Hart. What are you doing out here?”

  “It’s my uncle’s place. And surely the better question is, what were you doing on his land?”

  “Saving your life, apparently,” he said, watching me through amused eyes as he took a bite out of a slice of toast. I flushed again. Damn, he was hot. And the sort of guy who goes trespassing with a gun, Jade. Get a grip.

  “Do you hunt round here often?”

  “What?” He froze, fork half-way to his mouth.

  “I saw your gun last night. Do you go hunting round here often?”

 

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