Bitten Beauty (Book 3 Of the Deadly Beauties Live On)

by C. M. Owens

  His tongue teases the crease of my lips, and I open up to him like it’s not my choice.

  “It’d be so easy,” he whispers against me. “And so wrong.”

  One second his weight is pressing on top of me. The next… he’s gone. Nothing but air is around me, and my eyes dart around the room to see him clutching the wall on the other side.

  “Fuck,” he growls.

  “Looked like that’s what you were about to do.” I squeal a little at the new voice in the room, and see a smirking, leather-clad Dice standing on the stairs.

  “Not now,” Zee mumbles to him.

  “You don’t look so well, chap. Suppose the sire thing is really nagging at you, huh?”

  My eyes dart to the door. Having some space from him is like getting hit hard with so much clarity all at once. It’s dizzying and disorienting, but I manage to stand up.

  “Maybe you should take a break. Go watch my girl and I’ll watch yours,” Dice tells him.

  My stomach punches my ribs. His girl? I’m not his girl. Not unless he’s touching me and using his freaky mojo on me.

  The door is ajar just barely, and I inch toward it.

  “That’s not a good idea. I’m in a bad way right now. I’m afraid I might accidentally do something to you if I think you’re touching her,” Zee says, keeping his back to me.

  “Something like?” Dice asks.

  “Kill you.”

  Dice pales a little and swallows hard. I keep inching toward the door as they have the horrifying conversation that I really don’t appreciate. Considering it’s about me.

  “Right. Gotcha. So I’ll just hang out with you after we bring Karma down so I can keep an eye on her.”

  Dice still looks a little sick, and with how heavily distracted he is, he never notices when I reach the door. Zee turns around just as I jerk the door all the way open, and his eyes widen in horror.

  “No! It’ll—”

  His words end when I leap outside and start running, and I stumble into the woods, praying they don’t catch up.

  Chapter 7

  ZEE

  “Motherfucker!” Dice roars as he’s launched backwards and crashes into the far wall.

  “Damn it, Gage. You stupid fucker,” I snarl, glaring through the doorway we can’t cross as Leah runs like her life depends on it.

  Seeing her run… It’s making the man give way to the beast, and the urge to chase becomes almost overpowering. Blinding need overcomes rationality, and I slam my fist against the invisible barrier over and over.

  “You can’t fucking break Gage’s barrier,” Dice snaps. “I’m calling him.”

  I ignore him and continue to punch against the force, each time feeling the currents of its power slam into me like a powerline.

  “Damn it, Gage! Answer your fucking phone!” Dice blares. “Zee! Stop. You’ll—”

  The barrier shatters like glass on the last strike, and I step through it like it was never there.

  “Fuck me,” the incubus breathes, but my eyes narrow on the direction where Leah went.

  Cracking my neck to the side, I get ready to hunt. She shouldn’t have run. All it did was snap the last bit of control I possessed. She’ll really regret this, because she’s mine now.

  ***

  LEAH

  “Get the freak!” Tommy Leonard calls out, and I run faster.

  My heart pounds in my ears, and I dig deeper, propelling myself forward and gaining more speed by the second.

  I never knew I was so fast.

  The wheat blades lash against me like tiny, unforgiving whips as I race through the field, never slowing down.

  “The hell?! She’s too damn fast, Tommy!”

  A smile graces my lips as I run even harder, feeling the wind at my back. I might be a freak, but I’m a fast freak. They can’t hurt me if they can’t catch me.

  My house comes into view, and I dive under the wooden fence’s horizontal bottom post, rolling until I clear it. Just as I reach the door, it opens, and a man steps outside.

  I stumble backwards, confused when I see his face, and he looks over my shoulder. I turn back just as the three Leonard boys skid to a halt, seeing now that an adult is around, even though I don’t know who he is.

  Tommy’s eyes narrow on mine, and I smirk, feeling a bit of victory swell in my chest. He won’t humiliate me today. I won’t be tied to a flagpole in nothing but my underwear for the entire student body to mock. Freak won’t be painted across my stomach. No one will laugh and mock me today.

  “Leah,” my aunt calls, poking her head around the corner. Her eyes narrow on the boys as well, and they slowly retreat, casting threatening glances my way as they sulk and walk away.

  “What were they doing?” the man asks me.

  I look up and shrug, not willing to cause more trouble than I’m worth. Girls that cause trouble for families that don’t want them get thrown out. That’s what all the kids keep teasing and saying. That’s what the guidance counselor told me when I was blamed for disrupting class. Like it was my fault that Tommy chopped my hair off while I rested my head on my desk. Like it was me who had provoked them by simply being different.

  “It’s cowardly to run,” the man snarls. “Never run from a fight, girl. Not you. Never.”

  My aunt glares at him while pushing past him. “Ignore Victor,” she tells me, her eyes softening as her gaze meets mine. “When you’re outnumbered, always run, Leah. Always. Speed is a really good gift, and you have it for a reason.”

  That memory assaults me as adrenaline propels me faster and faster, and my heartbeat thuds in my ears.

  “Leah!” Zee’s voice booms through the woods, and I run harder, fighting against myself and the thick of the brush that keeps slapping me as I rush through it.

  I’m not sure what he’s doing to me, but it’s like my body wants to turn and run right back into his arms.

  “Leah!” he roars again, this time sounding closer.

  My heart slams into my chest, and my legs burn as I push my body to its limits. I practically explode out of the woods and right into the center of town where all hell is breaking loose.

  Screams pierce the night air, fires are raging out of control at two houses, and people are brawling in the streets. There’s so much to take in that it’s impossible to see everything going on at once. Gunshots have me ducking, and sirens wail wildly all over the place. It’s like the apocalypse started while I was stuck in that house.

  Considering all the crazy shit that has happened, I almost wonder if I stepped into an alternate universe.

  “Leah!” Zee’s voice somehow cuts over the noise and madness. It reminds me I’m supposed to be running, even though for some reason he seems like a much safer option at this moment.

  I duck, weave, dive, and slide through the hordes of people and chaos. Tires screech and the telltale crunch of metal crashing into metal sounds out as two cars collide. Something flies off and slams into the wall close to me, but I keep running, barely even acknowledging it.

  I run down an alleyway, looking over my shoulder for Zee the entire time. Unfortunately, I never see the wall of muscle coming until I slam into it.

  “Sorry,” I quickly say, trying to unglue myself from the guy’s side, but he clutches me tighter.

  I jerk my head up to see two dark eyes and a menacing smile that doesn’t make me feel too good at this moment.

  “Well, well, boys. It really is our night after all,” he taunts.

  I look around, feeling trapped by the walls that enclose us, and helpless as he holds me tighter. I try to jerk free, but a pain explodes in my side before I can and black dims my vision.

  I drop to the ground like a wet sack, and land hard on my chest.

  “Why d’you have to go an’ do that, Bruce?” one of them says, but it’s all a blur as I heave for air. “Now she’s gonna cry and shit.”

  My lungs are starving, my side feels like it’s crushed, and damn those blurry images are still everywhere. I
can’t tell if there are five of them or fifteen. One person keeps splitting into three then back to one.

  It takes several head shakes to finally manage to see just one of something again. It’s then I realize they’re arguing, fighting over which sick fuck gets me. Only one of them is standing off to the side. The rest want something I won’t give up without a fight.

  “I fucking found her!”

  This is insane. All of it is insane.

  I manage to stand up, still feeling some pain, but it’s manageable. Unfortunately, standing draws all of their attention to me at once. The streets are still loud and chaotic, and there’s just as much arguing out there as there was in here moments ago.

  They mostly look like riffraff, and somehow this night turned into Christmas Eve for them.

  “Fine. You get her first,” one says, smirking at me. “I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

  Bile rises to my throat, and I back against the wall behind me. I really should have just let Zee catch me. I don’t know what a night stalker is, but I’m sure it’s akin to a vampire. And having my blood sucked sounds much easier to handle than what’s in store for me now.

  This has to be a nightmare. Has. To. Be.

  Shit like this just doesn’t happen.

  “Alright, sexy girl. Let’s see what color panties you have on,” the one up front says, licking his lips as he starts undoing his belt.

  Panic bubbles in my chest, and I start wondering how quickly my knee can connect with his balls.

  “My panties are red,” a feminine voice suddenly says. All eyes swing to the back of the alley as a familiar face nears. She’s wearing different clothes. In fact, she looks like every teenage boy’s wet dream version of a superhero—red leather corset, black leather pants, red high heels, and cleavage for days.

  How did her hair get so long?

  “Want to take a peek?” she drawls, tugging at the string of a slinky pair of underwear as she pulls it up above her black leather pants.

  She winks at the one who has his pants half undone, and his mouth falls open. In fact, they all look a little shocked and silent for the first time since I stupidly stumbled into this alley.

  “Come and get it, boys. There’s plenty of little ol’ me for all of you.” She struts toward us, carrying a secretive smirk, and I start praying she’s a witch or a vampire or something… Because I’m a lunatic these days.

  “For the record, I like to be on top,” she adds, seconds before she spins, slinging her leg out like she’s Becky Badass. It connects with pants-undone guy, and he goes down hard.

  That’s when the other four stare for a second, dumbfounded.

  She begins ticking them off with her fingers, pointing at them one by one. “Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.” She pauses when her finger lands on the only one who hasn’t said anything. “Looks like it’s your lucky night. Run before I change my mind.”

  It’s like the guy has just been waiting on that option, and he hauls ass out of the alley like hell is on his heels. Karma—I think that’s what they called her—smiles coldly at the other four.

  “Last words, boys?” she asks, taking another step forward.

  “Mine,” one says, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

  “You have to catch me first,” she taunts.

  It all happens so fast that it’s hard to follow the motions. She’s nothing more than a blur. One second she’s in one spot, and the next she’s punching a guy in the face. Before I can even take a breath, she’s already snapping the arm of another with the sickening, bone-crunching sound effects and all. My stomach lurches when blood sprays from another’s mouth. I don’t even know what she did to him.

  She tosses one down to the ground, and the idiot with his pants around his ankles falls on his own. She just laughs, not even seeming the least bit winded or tired. It’s like she’s toying with them, not even really trying hard to kick their asses.

  I think I have a girl crush right now.

  But then… her eyes turn a very scary shade of red.

  “Dark souls stained by innocent blood. My favorite,” she says cryptically.

  Her hands go out, and I slam my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming when the guys start convulsing and white foam forms at their lips. Something bright red and glowing pulls from their bodies, and the writhing stops mostly. Only a few occasional jerks form at their fingertips and feet.

  The light flows into her eyes, and that cold, unnaturally satisfied smile curves her lips.

  “Don’t worry, girl. Your soul isn’t my type. It’s safe,” she says, still staring ahead as the last of the red light flows into her.

  Until tonight, I’d never seen anyone die in front of my eyes. Now I’ve seen it happen too much for a lifetime.

  She starts to walk away, and I try to speak. It’s harder to do than I thought it would be. I’m not sure if I should thank her for ruthlessly killing all those men in front of me, but she did just save my life.

  “Karma, thank you. You… Thank you.” I manage to squeeze the words out, and she halts as her entire body tenses.

  Slowly, she turns around to face me, and her breaths are harsh.

  “You called me Karma,” she states flatly, even though her eyes narrow.

  “I’m… I thought… Did I get it wrong?” I stutter, wishing I had just let her walk away. “I thought… You were sick. You look better,” I prattle on, wincing at how freaking pathetic I truly sound.

  She turns the rest of her body, and she walks toward me slowly… warily.

  “Karma is my sister,” she says after a long pause. Her eyes flick toward the streets, then she comes closer to me. “She’s sick?”

  I nod slowly, wondering what sort of sibling thing I’ve stumbled into. You’d think they’d call her if it was serious.

  “Obviously you’d know if it was bad.”

  Something akin to regret flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly. “You’re hurt, and we apparently need to talk.”

  Before I can argue, her hand is on my shoulder, and I feel myself being lifted, transported, shifted in a thousand directions at once. It’s like riding a hundred carnival rides in one night, and the second the weightlessness stops, the vomiting commences.

  And continues.

  And acts like it’s never going to end.

  Oh, fuck my night.

  “Hope you’re cleaning that up,” a guy’s voice says, and I stagger, unable to look around because I’m still retching.

  “She’s obviously mortal. Be glad it’s just vomit and not blood,” another says.

  “I know how to shift them around without killing them,” the Karma look-a-like says dryly. “Someone can use their magic to clean it up. We’ll be in my room. Tell Slade I might have a new recruit, though I’m not sure what she is yet. I do know there’s more than meets the eye.”

  Slade? The psychotic butcher guy with scars?

  I’m not sure what they say back, because this time I’m not faking it when I pass out.

  Chapter 8

  ZEE

  “The taste. The taste. I love the taste,” Sylvia sings, moving from one body to another inside the basement. Five men are strung up by their ankles, the scent of their blood still taunting me, and their taste still lingering in my mouth.

  But my mind is focused on one thing: how much I hate Sylvia.

  Their eyes are wide with fear even in their deaths. The last thing they saw was the psychotic bitch who took them. Who stole them from their lives.

  They’re luckier than I am. They’re done. They don’t have to be the puppet on strings she works like she does me.

  “They say I’m weak,” Sylvia says. “They say my sired bonds are weaker.”

  She pouts like an offended child who is sulking in a corner. I hate these nights. She reverts to childish, immature conversation and emotions.

  I hate her.

  “They think because you boys don’t stay enamored for long, that I’m a worthless line. But they’re wron
g. I just get to make more of you.”

  She turns her eyes toward me, and they narrow. “Are you trying to break our bonds, Zee?”

  Not yet, but only because it still hurts too much to break the first one.

  Defying a direct order is like being dipped in acid until I comply. But eventually, I’ll be able to do it. I’ll survive the first broken bond, and she’ll never see it coming when I kill her.

  Unless someone else beats me to it.

  The problem with siring so many of us, is the fact there are more like me who want her dead.

  A lot more.

  “You’re ignoring me. What are you thinking about?” she muses.

  How much I want to watch you bleed out in front of me.

  Since another bond is lying, I look up to meet her eyes, deciding I won’t answer unless she forces me to. Lying is just as painful of a bond to break.

  To keep her from forcing an answer, I stand and walk over to her, and she claps like she’s giddy. She grabs the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

  “There’s my boy.”

  One day… One day…

  Beware of the quiet ones, for they carry the darkest fury.

  “You really need to calm down,” Thad says as the sun starts to rise. He grabs my shoulder just as I finish slamming my fist into another fucker’s face.

  “He’s just a damn scavenger, Zee. Let him have the dead ones,” Thad snarls, pulling me back when I try to snap the neck of the bottom-feeder.

  “I think fifty-seven ‘missing’ in one night after random chaos has definitely drawn attention,” Roslyn sighs as she appears.

  The scavenger runs off, looking over his shoulder like he’s worried I’ll come after him. Why can’t the anointed chase the ones like that? Or the ones like the blood-starved night stalkers?

  “You did good, babe,” Thad tells her, kissing her forehead.

  Everyone needs to be thanking Roslyn for reversing the red jinn magic, but I’m too focused on the blind need that’s controlling me. Leah seems to have vanished into thin-fucking-air, and my skin is crawling to find her.