Wicked Bite

Home > Romance > Wicked Bite > Page 20
Wicked Bite Page 20

by Rebecca Zanetti


  “Copy that,” Lucas said, flashing his teeth.

  “Bear,” Nessa protested. “There are witches outside the garage right now.”

  Bear nodded. “Jasper? You have fifteen minutes to get those witches off territory, or I set bears on them.” Without waiting for an answer, he manacled Nessa’s hand and strode through the storage room.

  She could either accompany him or let him drag her, so she quickened her steps. His command of the situation was a turn-on, but his bossiness with her was infuriating. His huge hand swallowed hers as he led her through the rec room and into the gray day, his boot steps sure and determined. The area was already empty of both witches and shifters. The snow had been replaced by freezing rain, and it pinged off concrete around them.

  Once outside, she yanked her hand back, her body going cold. “I still need to call the shifter nations.”

  “Lucas will take care of that.” Bear grasped her again, his head down, heading for the trail to the cabin. “You wanted to talk, we’re going to talk.”

  Her pulse sped up. That was enough. She bunched her back leg and swung, hitting him in the back of the knee with a roundhouse. His leg buckled, but he didn’t release her hand. His knee hit the pavement and he was right back up, stepping into her and throwing her over his shoulder. Her hair escaped its clip and cascaded down his back and past his butt.

  He had not. He had not just done that.

  Thank goodness her soldiers were out of sight. She levered herself back and punched him as hard as she could in the left kidney. He growled and turned on his boot, heading into his office. The door slammed shut behind him, and he plunked her on the desk, stepping between her legs and forcing her to catch herself with her elbows.

  Fury engulfed her. She balanced on one elbow and hit him with a jab and an uppercut, nailing him in the mouth and neck. She punched again, and he grabbed her hand midstrike. Pain ripped up her arm.

  “You done?” He released her.

  “No.” The stupid male had thrown her over his shoulder. Again. She secured her legs at the back of his waist and lunged up, wrapping her arms around his neck and yanking down his head, putting him in a capture hold.

  He struggled, but she held on tight.

  Then he stopped, his head turned, and she trapped him against her chest.

  “Bear, we need to talk. I don’t want to hurt you, but I bloody will.” She emphasized her words by tightening her hold.

  He breathed out against her, and his hands came up to clamp around her biceps.

  She settled in. There was no way for him to break the hold. “You can’t win this.”

  Slowly, methodically, he started to pull.

  The tendons in her arms stretched. Then her muscles protested. She tightened up, trying to resist him, but his strength was just too great. Without pausing once, he broke her hold and stood.

  She sat up, her legs still around his waist. “You’re stronger. That’s just biology . . . and me.” She’d healed him, damn it.

  Something fired in his eyes. Something hot. He grabbed her thighs and tightened his hold until she released him, letting her legs drop. Then he grabbed her hair and yanked her from the desk, nudging her to the middle of the room. “You want to fight? Let’s fight.”

  Anticipation lit her so quickly, her limbs tingled. “I’ve been training since birth. You can’t beat me without brute strength.” Her chin lifted.

  “Think not?” he asked, his voice a hoarse rumble, his jaw clenched and hard. He reached behind himself and locked the door. With the shades drawn, nobody could see in. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Warning ticked down her spine. Why, she wasn’t sure. There was plenty of room to fight between the desk and the battered chairs, but the floor was bare concrete. It’d hurt to grapple on it, but she’d been in worse conditions. She was well trained, but Bear had surprised her repeatedly with his strategic command and intelligence. “You’ve trained?” she asked, circling to the side.

  “Yes.” He didn’t move.

  She shook out her hands. “With whom?”

  He watched her legs, his eyes hard. “Everyone I could find. First dragons, then everybody I met in the States when I came over.”

  She kicked up, a testing movement, and he casually blocked her with an almost gentle swipe. “Why?”

  “Why?” His eyebrows lifted. “I was a teenager alone in a foreign land—a bear shifter to boot.” He stretched his neck as if preparing for a good match. “Do you think I ended up leading the grizzly nation because I always win the July chili cook-off?”

  They had that in common. Lonely childhoods where they’d had to learn to fight in order to survive the world. Why did she get the feeling there were parts of him she didn’t see? “You’re not an open book, either.” On the last syllable, she faked with a left and shot forward, tackling him into the door. He flipped her sideways, just using his left arm, and pinned her to the floor without causing a bruise.

  She panted, twisting. “Why just the left arm?”

  “Want to make it fair.” He lifted up, taking her sweater with him.

  She rolled and stood. “What are you doing?”

  “Wanna make it interesting.” He threw the sweater over the fan. “I’m not an open book, but I’ve never lied. You’ve never asked.”

  Had she? Not really. She’d never asked if he was rich, trained, or had a brain. “You hide who you are,” she hissed.

  “No.” He dodged forward, hooked a leg behind hers, and dropped her on her ass. Two seconds later, her bra joined her sweater. His gaze caught on her nipples, and the room heated. The entire room.

  She tried to focus, but her nipples hardened, and a pulse pounded between her legs. How could this be turning her on? Worse yet, he was just playing with her. He hadn’t come close to making a real effort. She ran through a couple of moves in her head that would take him down, and hard, trying to figure out which one to try first.

  A hard knock on the door stopped her.

  “Go away,” Bear called, his gaze not leaving hers.

  “Bear? We have a problem,” Lucas answered.

  Irritation rippled across Bear’s face. He turned and poked his head outside. “What?”

  “Attack on witches along the northern perimeter from an outside force and not us—we just caught wind of it on the cameras. Apollo darts—looks bad,” Lucas said.

  “No,” Nessa breathed, rushing past Bear to grab her sweater.

  “Get a squad, and we go in bear form,” Bear ordered Lucas before turning, his face a solid mask of fury. “Ness, whoever attacked has darts. They don’t hurt us, but they kill you. Stay here until I get back.” He leaned and grabbed the back of her head, yanking her toward his face. His mouth crashed on hers, his lips firm and determined. Then he released her. “Don’t fuck with me on this. Use that computer and do all the diplomatic shit you need. But be right here when I get back.”

  He slammed the door in her face.

  * * *

  Bear stomped out into the freezing rain to meet Lucas and a squad of shifters. “Where the hell are Lars, Brinks, and Duncan? You called them back, right?” He needed his best soldiers.

  Lucas pulled his shirt over his head as everyone else did the same. “Yeah. When they go underground, they do it right. I’ll find ’em.”

  Damn it. All right. Bear stripped and tossed his clothes next to the garage. “How many attackers?”

  “About fifteen,” Lucas muttered, dropping his jeans. The rain mashed his hair to his head. “All with dart guns. What is going on?”

  “I don’t know.” Bear kicked off his boots. “Did you see any witches go down?”

  “Yeah. Bad,” Lucas affirmed. “I called for medevac. Our pilots just put the helicopters away, but they’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Good thinking.” Bear surveyed the naked group. “Kill anybody with a dart gun. They came onto our land, and they die.” The next words hurt. “Don’t kill any of Nessa’s witches. Today, anyway.” He
turned and leaped, shifting into bear form in the air. God, it felt good.

  He was healthy and strong again. The shift had been effortless. Finally.

  His paws hit the ground, and he bounded forward, his senses already enhanced: sights and sounds . . . and soon smells. Witches and humans. Another scent. What was that?

  Colors flew by even in the gray day. The rain punished him, but he didn’t feel it. His coat was thick, and his body heated. Within seconds, he came upon the fight—eight witches and at least fifteen unidentified attackers with dart guns, all shooting. There were two large trucks on the dirt service road, both empty.

  The witches threw fire, trying to cover each other, letting their gear take the darts. Several witch soldiers already lay on the ground. Their fellow soldiers covered them. One of the fighters was hit with a dart in the face, and she jerked it out, not stopping her fire.

  Bear leaped over her and right into the man shooting at her, his canines slashing into the guy’s neck. It hit him then.

  Wolves.

  The guy twisted beneath him, and the air shimmered. Fuck. Bear jumped back and covered the female Guard member. A series of pops echoed all around. When the air had settled, he lunged back up.

  Fifteen fully grown and pissed-off wolves snarled at him, teeth bared. Their dart guns lay on the ground, discarded.

  Wolf shifters had dared to breach his territory. They were after Nessa, his mate. In his animal form, he let go of any hurt feelings or pride. He wanted her. He’d bitten her, and he’d given her his heart in that moment. He didn’t know any other way. And these killers had come to his land to kill her.

  To kill his mate.

  Bear stood up on his hind legs and roared, the sound echoing throughout the entire forest. All humanity disappeared from him, leaving only the predator.

  Lucas bounded by, colliding with the first wolf, claws already slashing through flesh. The wolf yelped, and another one, this one black with brown markings, jumped on Lucas’s back.

  Bear rushed forward and swiped off the wolf, following up with claws across the jugular. Going for the kill, he sank his teeth into the wolf’s neck, ignoring the animal’s furious struggles. Claws raked down Bear’s snout, but he barely felt the pain. Growling and snarling, he bit clean through the wolf’s neck. The animal’s body exhaled in death as its head rolled through the sleet.

  Two wolves instantly jumped Bear. He swung around, fighting furiously. Fangs dug into his neck. He grabbed the nape of the wolf biting him and threw the beast over his head.

  A fireball flashed from the trees and burned straight through the wolf’s neck. Nice.

  Bear turned to get three wolves off Lucas, biting and clawing as fast as he could. He finished off two more wolves, his mouth full of blood. He spit it out and roared.

  His squad was bleeding but winning. Dead wolves littered the ground. One leaped for him, clawing down his back. He turned to fight. Five ran, wounded and growling, toward the first truck, shifting to human form as they reached it. Piling inside, they roared away down the road. He finished off the nearest wolf and glared at the speeding truck. He’d hunt them down later.

  Another scent caught his attention.

  Everything in him stilled.

  He turned to see Nessa and Jasper run out of the trees. Nessa slid on her knees to one of the wounded, instantly putting her hands on the witch’s chest.

  The remaining three wolves turned their attention to her.

  Bear lost it, barreling into all three. Lucas joined him, and they fought furiously, spilling blood. Bear broke the last wolf’s neck and threw him toward the remaining truck. Then he turned to find his mate.

  She was with another downed witch, her hands over his chest, her eyes closed. The witch sat up and gently pushed her away. “I’m okay.”

  Jasper stood to her right, balls of fire on his hands, ready to throw.

  Bear looked around at the battlefield. Blood, fur, and sleet mingled together.

  Almost in slow motion, one of the truck doors opened and a man stepped out, dart gun in hand. He fired a long series of shots right at Nessa.

  Jasper yelled, as did the witch on the ground, both jumping up and putting their bodies between the darts and Nessa.

  Bear roared and leaped through the air, taking ten darts in the chest. He kept going, rushing the shooter and bashing him back against the truck. Rage took hold of Bear, and he snapped his teeth through the wolf shifter’s neck, decapitating the bastard with one righteous bite.

  The head rolled away.

  Bear turned around just as his helicopter made a fast descent behind the truck. He shook out his fur and stood on his hind legs, shifting back into human form with barely a twinge of pain. “Load them up,” he yelled.

  His men shifted quickly and ran for the injured witches, rapidly loading them into the waiting helicopter. A couple had taken more than one dart, but Nessa had helped to heal them. Bear loaded the last witch into the helicopter and leaned around to talk to the pilot. “Take them to the Realm hospital north of Vancouver.” Canada offered the best hospital nearby.

  The pilot nodded.

  Bear ducked and hurried from the helicopter, the scent of Irish roses filling his head and unadulterated fury filling his body.

  Garrett and Logan pulled up in a four-wheeler, quickly dispensing the clothes that had been left at the garage.

  Bear didn’t give a fuck about his clothes. His mate had come out into pure danger, a place where darts flew, against his express orders. Worse yet, the lies she’d told him still poisoned his gut. It hurt, and he hated hurting. He found her standing near a tree, her face pale, her eyes wide.

  There was a lesson to be taught. Now.

  Adrenaline ripped through his body, intensified by the anger heating his blood. Stalking toward her, he slowly pulled out each of the ten darts still stuck in his flesh, one at a time.

  She turned even paler.

  Finally, he reached her and grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 24

  The ride back to the cabin was made in total silence. Nessa tried to concentrate on the mystery of wolves being after her. Why wolves?

  Bear had ordered his soldiers to find out how the hell wolves had ended up on his property, while Nessa had sent Jasper to check on the rest of the troops and then answer the same question. He’d looked at her with concern, but she’d given a clear order, so he’d followed it.

  Why would wolf shifters have Apollo darts, and why would they want her dead? They’d attacked witches on the perimeter. Were they trying to get inside to her? They’d certainly focused their darts on her the second she’d been recognized.

  Nessa tried to focus on these very important questions, but the half-naked male driving the vehicle all but commanded her attention. For once, there was no give on his face or in the lines of his body: no humor, no laziness, no amusement.

  Bear McDunphy was pissed. Not pissed—furious. Was there a word past fury? Rage? No. Rage connoted out-of-control behavior.

  Bear was one hundred percent in control. Cold, methodical, deadly. And pissed.

  God, was he pissed.

  She swallowed over a huge lump in her throat. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her lungs felt as if a belt was banded around them. Okay. She was tough and trained, the leader of a police force. Sure, she worked mainly from a desk creating strategy and not fighting on the front lines, but still.

  Her hands trembled.

  His anger filled the small space, heating her skin. Steam came off his wet jeans as they dried, and his bare chest was already dry. Probably from the fury inside him.

  Freezing rain hit the top of the plastic cover, making it fog inside. She tried to logically work through what was scaring her. All right.

  He’d ordered her to stay in the office.

  She didn’t take orders from him.

  He’d wanted her to stay away from the poison darts.

  Her soldiers were fighting, so she couldn’t just sit back and do n
othing.

  He’d had the situation pretty much under control.

  She hadn’t known that.

  By the time they reached the cabin, she’d worked up a good dose of self-righteousness. Without a word, she jumped out of the vehicle, her boots sliding on the icy ground. Regaining her footing, she stood straight. “This is ridiculous.”

  He paused and then shut his door, facing her across the front of the four-wheeler. “Get inside.” His voice was a low growl.

  The rain slashed against her hair and pelted her arms, chilling her. But she didn’t care. She lifted her face. “No.”

  He changed. Nothing obvious, but something shifted beneath his skin, something more than just the bear shifter inside him. His eyes flashed black. “Excuse me?”

  Her knees went weak. So her spine snapped straight. In that moment, she realized she was actually afraid of him. That thought, that one simple thought, exploded her temper as nothing else could have. She flung out her arms, stomping around the vehicle. “You are not the boss of me, so just lose the attitude,” she screamed through the sleet.

  The black in his eyes glittered hot and bright. “Not the boss of you?” he yelled back.

  “No,” she screamed.

  “This is my territory,” he bellowed. “My men were out there. In danger. For you.”

  “My men were in danger, too.” Her voice rose even higher. “I’m the head of the Guard.”

  His chin lowered. “Exactly.” His low tone was even more frightening than his bellow. “You’re the president. The queen. The one that everybody will jump in front of a bullet for. It’s your fucking duty to stay safe and behind, to keep your people safe. To keep my people safe.”

  The fact that he had a point just spurred her anger higher. “I do what I want.” Plus, she was a damn healer.

  “Not on my land.” He took two steps toward her. “Not wearing my bite.”

  Her mouth went dry, even as her body flared to life. This side of him—this dangerous, deadly, raw side of him that nobody else saw . . . she’d bet her entire fortune that he didn’t let anybody else see him like this. “Your bite does not give you any rights over me,” she yelled, her recklessness matching the storm around her. She couldn’t help it. There was more to him, and she wanted it. Didn’t understand it, but she knew how to get it.

 

‹ Prev