The Better to Bite

by Cynthia Eden

  My dad’s weapon was out, and I knew he had it aimed right at Mark Hamilton. “Drop your guns—now.” His lethal order.

  “I-I…the wolf—”

  “Drop them or I’ll be the one who starts shooting.” My dad’s voice was flat and cold, and I shivered.

  The rifles hit the ground.

  “Now pull those dogs back. Tell them to heel.” Because the dogs were jerking against their leashes as they fought to get at my house.

  No, to get at Rafe.

  Sharp orders from their handlers had the dogs whining, but easing back.

  “Anna, go back into the house.”

  With Rafe.

  “I’m taking these men into the station.”

  Yes. Problem number one was solved.

  “What?” Sissy’s dad again. Now he sounded all shocked. What had the guy expected to happen?

  “Mark,” my dad said, “don’t you even know when you crossed the line? You could have killed someone tonight.”

  I heard Mark sob then. I’d never heard a man cry before. “Sissy,” he said her name like it was a prayer. The dogs whined. “I just want my baby home.”

  There was so much pain in his voice. I swallowed and glanced up at the moon. Not quite full, not yet.

  “Go to the house,” my dad told me, his voice softer, and his fingers brushed over my arm. “Lock the door. Stay inside until it’s secure here.”

  Secure. Right. Because more backup would be there soon.

  The fury that had drove the men to hunt for Sissy’s killer had faded until only grief remained.

  I turned carefully, still concealing my gun, and headed back for the house. I didn’t run. Didn’t look fearfully back.

  Just headed for Rafe.

  I slipped inside the house. Bolted the door. Then looked down at him.

  Rafe had propped himself up against the wall just under the bay window. His claws were still gone and his face—well, he looked like Rafe again. Sweat had slickened his hair, and he’d yanked a couch cushion down to cover his—

  I cleared my throat.

  His gaze lifted slowly. A blue gaze now. A weak, tired blue gaze. “Are you…turning me in?” His voice rasped out. His gaze darted to my gun.

  I hesitated. “Did you kill Sissy?” I had to know.

  He shook his head.

  I wanted to believe him.

  “I promise,” he told me, voice rumbling. “Anna, I swear, I didn’t hurt her.”

  His gaze held mine.

  The dogs started to bark again. Those were some damn tenacious dogs. I exhaled. “We need to get you into another room. If my dad comes in…”

  “I-I can’t move.”

  I blinked and the ball in my gut tightened. He’d been shot in the back, and then I’d yanked him inside and—what did I do?

  “Silver.” He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “One of those hunters…the guy actually knew what he was doin’.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He shot me with a silver bullet—that’s what made me lose my form.”

  His form? Like the form of a wolf?

  Don’t freak out now. Don’t. I knew I had to hold things together for a little while longer. Just a little bit. Until the deputies were gone and the dogs were safely away.

  Maybe then I could have a breakdown.

  But…silver? A werewolf? My heart raced so fast I was sure it would bust out of my chest at any moment.

  Rafe’s skin had taken on an ashen color. I eased into a crouch before him.

  “You have to…get the bullet out…” His breath expelled in a slow rush. “Or I won’t stop…bleeding.”

  Um, no, surely the werewolf hadn’t just asked me to dig a bullet out of his back.

  “If you don’t…” The click of his swallow was painful to hear. “I’ll…die…”

  Chapter Nine

  I gave Rafe a quilt to use as a temporary cover, and he managed to lay flat down on the floor. I heard my dad talking outside. Other voices rose and fell.

  “We have got to get you out of the den.” How would I explain this if my dad walked in? A naked, bleeding boy on the floor and me on top of him.

  That would not go over well at all with the sheriff.

  “Get…bullet out…first.”

  I didn’t want to do that. Pulling a bloody bullet out of Rafe’s back…no, thank you. “Look, I don’t even have anything sterile here. I mean, what am I supposed to use—”

  “Don’t worry…I won’t catch…any infections.”

  His shoulders were broad, and his words were weak. He’d turned his face toward me, and I could see the lines of pain that bracketed his mouth. “I…heal from anything…but silver.”

  I put my palm on his back. His skin felt warm, and the blood pulsed from the wound. “It looks like it’s in there deep.” Not near his spine, thank goodness, but about three inches to the left.

  “Pull it…out.”

  “With what?”

  A car door slammed outside. My head jerked up. My dad’s back-up. Other deputies. Time was running out.

  “Use…your fingers…just…ah…get it!”

  His body started that shuddering thing again. Not good.

  “You can’t take me to jail! You can’t!” Sounded like Mark Hamilton’s wild yell.

  My teeth sank into my lower lip. “L-let me go into the kitchen, I can find something—”

  He grabbed my hand. His skin looked yellow now. Another very not good sign. “Take it out.”

  I managed a nod. I sucked in a deep breath, tasted blood, and I pushed my fingers into the gaping wound on his back.

  He hissed out a breath even as I started muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Because I knew what I was doing had to hurt him. And I couldn’t find the bullet. The wound gaped and twisted inside. My fingers slipped and—

  Footsteps thudded on the porch steps.

  No.

  My fingertips touched the hard edge of the bullet.

  “Get it, Anna,” Rafe begged. “Just…get it out.”

  The wood on the porch creaked. The footsteps were just outside of the door.

  My fingers closed around the bullet. Not shattered, luckily, the bullet seemed to be one big piece. I yanked it out.

  Rafe groaned, and his body sagged on the floor.

  I jumped to my feet and ran for the door. My bloody hand curled around the bullet.

  I flipped the lock and hauled open the door. Being careful to keep the fingers of my right hand out of site, I peered outside.

  The light from the den—I had only opened the door a few precious inches—spilled onto the porch. My dad was staring down at the old wood beneath his feet.

  Don’t see the blood. Don’t.

  He glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”

  No. A werewolf is bleeding out in the den. “Fine.”

  He gazed back at me, a faint line between his brows.

  I couldn’t even fake a smile to reassure him. The night was too crazy.

  “Anna?”

  I saw two patrol cars behind him. And it looked like some kind of animal control van had pulled up, too. “What will happen to them?” Mark Hamilton was already loaded in the back of one patrol car. As I watched, a deputy cuffed another man.

  “For tonight, they’re staying locked up. I’ll be keeping them at the station until they can all think with sense again.” He rubbed his hang along his jaw, sawing over the stubble that lined his face. “Are you gonna be okay out here until I get back? It could take a while to get them processed. You can come with me to the station—”

  “No, I’m good.” I couldn’t leave Rafe.

  He nodded. His gaze dropped to the wooden slats that comprised the porch floor. “You sure that you’re all right?” He asked without looking up at me again.

  Could he see the blood? “I’m sure.”

  “Sheriff!” Deputy Jon called after him.

  My dad leaned toward me. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “I
think I lost about five years of my life when I saw those damn idiots pointing their guns at you.”

  Fair enough. I lost five years when I found a bleeding werewolf on our porch.

  “Put my gun back in the closet and make sure the bullets are secure,” he told me before he turned away.

  I blinked. I’d thought that I’d been so careful.

  Not careful enough.

  I slid back inside and bolted the lock once more. Then I turned off the lights. I didn’t want to risk the guys outside seeing my shadow—and Rafe’s—when I moved him to a more secure room.

  “Let’s get you upstairs,” I said. My room would be safest. It wasn’t like I could put him in my dad’s room.

  I shoved the silver bullet into my back pocket. I’d deal with that soon enough. I eased down beside Rafe, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “We have to be careful,” I told him, squinting as I tried to make out the lines of the furniture in the dark. We rose together carefully. “I can’t see anything.” Which meant we could take a header any moment. As if he weren’t hurt enough.

  “I can see everything.” Figured. The guy’s voice wasn’t weak anymore, either.

  We reached the stairs. Our steps were slow as we climbed up to the second floor. He held the quilt around his waist with one hand while the other hand held tight to me. Our bodies brushed in the small space, and the air seemed to get really hot.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t speak. After what seemed like forever, we made it to my room.

  I guided Rafe to the bed. “You need to rest.”

  I figured I could sit by the window and watch the activity below. When it was all clear, he could sneak out.

  Rafe eased onto the bed. I darted away and ran down the hall. When I came back, I had a pair of my dad’s old sweats gripped in my hands. “Here.” I tossed those on the bed. “You can wear these.” I turned away, aware that I was blushing. Really. Blushing. After everything that had happened…

  “You can look at me now, Anna.”

  I didn’t exactly want to. “Rest a few minutes. I’ll keep watch.” I hurried to the window. My eyes had finally adjusted a bit to the dark. When I’d gone after the sweats, I’d only rammed into one chair on the way.

  I shoved up the window and peered down below. The rest of the hunters were being loaded into the back of the patrol cars.

  The floorboard creaked behind me. I stiffened.

  “I don’t need to rest.”

  No, he definitely didn’t sound weak anymore.

  I turned toward him. He’d put on my dad’s ancient sweats, and they clung to his hips.

  “I owe you,” he said and the words sounded strangely formal.

  The guy’s blood was on my hands. Literally. So, yeah, he definitely owed me. “I want to know what’s going on in this town.”

  His head inclined. “You mean…you want to know how you’re standing here, talking to a real-live werewolf?”

  Right, that.

  I backed up a step. Hit the wall behind me.

  His gaze followed the movement. “You’re scared of me.” A considering pause. “I thought you didn’t scare easily.”

  “Yeah, well, I scare pretty easily when a guy with claws and fangs comes at me.”

  But he wasn’t coming at me. In fact, he wasn’t moving. “If you didn’t hurt Sissy,” I asked, because I had to, “then who did?”

  “A wolf.” A pause. “Another wolf.”

  My chest felt tight. Wait, that tightness was because I wasn’t breathing. Doors slammed below me, and I heard the growl of an engine starting. “You’re saying there are more werewolves out there?”

  “I’m saying there’s far more to Haven than meets the eye.”

  “I don’t trust you.” The blurt problem again. I expected my words to make him angry.

  He simply nodded. “Good. You shouldn’t.” Then he came closer, eliminating those precious inches between us. “And you should never, ever trust me when I’m in wolf form.”

  An image of a black beast with glowing yellow eyes filled my mind. “The first evening in the woods…were you the one who chased me?”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw.

  “Were you?” I pushed.

  He shook his head. “I was trying to protect you.”

  Why didn’t I believe him? Oh, right, because he was a werewolf.

  “Then who?” The guy had just told me not to trust him. I’d be a fool if—

  “Some secrets aren’t mine to share.”

  Bull. “People are dying! It’s not the time for secrets.” I realized my volume was getting way too high, and I forced my voice to lower. “At the wreck, when I was trapped in the truck with Brent…was that wolf you? Did you come at me?”

  “No.” Said fast and hard.

  Said with truth? I couldn’t know for certain. I wanted to believe him. “Tell me who it was. That wasn’t just some wild wolf. It was someone like you.” Oh, jeez, a town full of werewolves. Give me Chicago back, please.

  Tires ground over gravel as the vehicles started to pull away.

  “Tell me.”

  “You have a lot of enemies in this town.”

  I blinked. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything to anyone!” I was even trying the whole making-friends routine to make my dad happy.

  “Not you.” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “But your mother made a lot of folks unhappy.”

  Ice coated my skin.

  “Some folks here have real long memories.” His lips twisted. “Folks like your grandmother.”

  My grandmother? Why did everyone know more about my family than I did? And that knowledge just pissed me off. “Don’t talk about my family.” The words snapped out from me. “You’re a freaking werewolf, okay! You don’t have the right to—”

  He grabbed my hands and yanked me against him, and I realized that I should be scared. Very, very scared. We were alone in the house. My dad and the deputies had just driven away. No way would they hear any cries for help now.

  What had I been thinking?

  Rafe lifted me up so that my toes barely brushed the floor. “You can’t play in this game,” he gritted, his eyes seeming to burn into mine. “You’re in way over your head.”

  I’d saved his life. How was he going to repay me? Not with claws and teeth. I couldn’t even breathe right then.

  He put his lips on mine. The move was the last thing I’d expected. His mouth was open, and I gasped against him. His tongue slid past my lips. It wasn’t a tentative first kiss. Not soft. But…wild. As wild as Rafe was. Hot.

  I should have tried to pull away.

  I didn’t.

  I kissed him back.

  His hands pulled me closer, and the kiss became a bit harder, a bit hungrier. I could feel him all around me and—

  Rafe pulled away. His eyes were too bright as he stared at me.

  I didn’t speak. I could still feel his mouth on mine. Still taste him.

  “Anna…” More growl than anything else.

  But then he turned and lunged for my window.

  “Rafe!”

  Too late. He’d leapt right through my window. Right freaking through it. I screamed but when I grabbed the window’s ledge and looked below, I saw that he’d landed on his feet. Landed perfectly. He glanced back up at me.

  His face appeared stark as his gaze bored into me. “Don’t tell anyone what happened.”

  Who would believe me? If I started talking werewolves, I’d get a fast ticket to a shrink’s office.

  “Don’t, Anna.”

  Then he ran away, racing right for the darkness.

  I finally sucked in a full breath, but there was nothing I could do to calm my racing heart.

  ***

  My alarm rang, yanking me from weird dreams about a woman in a red cloak, a woman running through a tangle of dark trees.

  I slammed my hand down on the alarm and shoved my hair back.

  Then I remembered last night. Blood. Bullets. Ra
fe.

  If only I could pretend that had just been a bad dream.

  But no, I’d spent an hour cleaning blood off the porch after Rafe had run away. No way that part of the night had been a dream. It had been too miserable for dream time. I sat up. I stared at my hands and expected to see the red stains on my palms.

  Nothing. My shoulders slumped. Maybe I couldn’t see the blood, but it was there. Some things could never be washed away.

  A knock shook my door.

  “Anna?” My dad’s voice. “Anna, I need you to come downstairs and meet me on the porch. There’s something I have to show you.”

  My heart sank. I’d missed some blood. It had just been so dark. I should have known that I couldn’t slip this nightmare past him. “Dad?”

  But I could hear the thud of his retreating footsteps. I jumped out of bed and pulled on some clothes as fast as I could. I was the one to thunder down the stairs. I quickly realized that my dad wasn’t in the house, and the front door was open.

  My heart beat so hard it sounded like a drumbeat in my ears. I walked onto the porch. “Dad, just give me a minute, and I can explain—”

  He was smiling at me.

  My words faded into nothing. He wouldn’t be smiling if he’d found the blood, would he? No, if he’d found the blood, he would have been wearing his angry-tough-cop expression.

  My gaze swept the area. I didn’t see any blood.

  “What do you think?” He asked expectantly.

  I blinked and looked up at him. “Think of what?” Now I was cautious.

  He laughed and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Of the car, baby. What do you think of your car?”

  I glanced over his shoulder. A shiny red, convertible VW sat in our driveway.

  “It took a few days longer to arrive than I expected, but…”

  I tackled him. My hug was so hard and tight that we both nearly hit the ground. My dad laughed, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually heard him laugh.

  “I love you, Dad,” I told him, but, then, I knew he already understood that.

  His arms tightened around me. “I love you, too, Anna.”

  He fished a set of keys out of his back pocket. “Rules, first.”

  Always, with him.

  “No drinking. No racing. No texting. No getting lost in the mountains.”

  I pulled back and lifted a brow.