Lydia’s mouth moved silently, as if she wanted to tell him something, but nothing came out. Swallowing, Jericho took one of her limp hands and kissed her fingertips. He could smell Vaughn now, and he was close. From behind him, Reaper was shouting for the Enforcer to lower his weapon. Vaughn shouted a reply, but Jericho didn’t listen. He watched Lydia’s eyelids closed and a soft exhalation escaped her lips. Reaching out, he smoothed the hair from her face.
‘You let me take care of this,’ he told her.
‘I had no choice, Jericho.’ Vaughn’s voice called to him. ‘She had to go. Now, call your boys off. You don’t want your crew to get slapped with treason for shooting an Enforcer.’
Jericho stood and faced Vaughn, his fists clenched and murder on his mind. The Enforcer stood at the wood’s edge a few feet away, a rifle raised in one hand. Karla stood to his right, and Jericho narrowed his eyes at her with a silent accusation. The female Breed stiffened.
‘If the King was here, he would have ordered her death, Jericho,’ she called out. ‘She’d been bitten and you hadn’t taken care of it.’
Jericho reached for the gun at his back. ‘You talk a lot of shit, Karla.’
‘Bulldog?’
He heard the question in Blades’ voice, the one that asked if he wanted Vaughn and Karla dead.
‘They’re mine,’ Jericho answered. ‘No one interferes.’
He sensed, rather than saw Reaper reach for him, as if to give counsel. A shot sounded and the big man staggered back.
‘Fucker shot me.’ Reaper stared down at his leg in surprise. Blades and Frost were hunkered down, hands close to their own weapons. But they held back, obeying Jericho’s order. This was his fight.
‘You got silver bullets in that gun?’ Jericho called out to Vaughn, watching as the Enforcer hesitated. He grinned. ‘No. You came primed to kill a human, didn’t you. Not Breed.’ He threw his gun aside. ‘You just killed someone I cared for. Which means I’m going to end you.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Vaughn said. ‘I breeched no pack law here. Merely fulfilled an obligation you refused to do in putting down an infected Hunter.’
Jericho’s grin turn feral. ‘I’m gonna rip you in half, Enforcer.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Jericho,’ Karla spoke up. ‘You can’t beat Vaughn in a fight and you know it. Don’t throw your life away over the woman. She isn’t worth it.’
Jericho’s eyes slid to her. ‘You have no idea what she was worth.’
Vaughn opened his mouth to say something more, but Jericho was done listening. He sprinted for his enemy, felt a bullet pass by his head and another punch his shoulder. He ignored it, taking the Enforcer in a flying embrace. They landed heavy on the wet ground, Jericho grappling furiously to gain the upper hand. Vaughn had defeated him before, as he’d tried to protect his king. And now, the same enemy had taken Lydia from him, the fact shredding his soul till nothing was left but a hell-born rage.
Jericho managed to break loose from Vaughn and rolled to his feet, seeing the Enforcer do the same. In the distance, he could hear his crew calling out encouragement, while Karla screamed for them to stop.
Vaughn ran for him and his blows landed heavy against Jericho’s side, winding him. He kept his hands up, shot in for a right hook. But as he swung, Vaughn bent and grabbed one of Jericho’s legs, pulling him off balance. Jericho landed in a patch of mud with a grunt and then Vaughn was on top of him, hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing. Fear spluttered to life inside Jericho, fear that maybe he wasn’t strong enough. After all, he’d failed once in a battle with Vaughn when it mattered the most.
‘Get up, Bulldog.’
His crew calling out to him. Letting him know they believed he could win. He thought of Lydia, now lying lifeless in the mud, and memory bought with it fresh rage. Her only crime was for her path to cross his. The hope of a life together had been torn from him. Fury sizzled through him, thinking of the life he’d never have with her. Jericho roared and thrust forward, smacking his forehead into Vaughn’s nose. The Enforcer’s hands loosened enough for him to twist out, but when he tried to stand, his bad knee gave way. Falling back in a puddle of mud, Vaughn was on him seconds later, taking him in a heavy tackle. He felt the other man’s fists smash into him and Jericho embraced the pain, gathering what strength he had left.
With a gut-wrenching howl, he twisted out of Vaughn’s hold and looped his arms around the Enforcer’s neck and squeezed. Vaughn’s body fought him, tearing Jericho’s clothes, scratching and bruising his body, but Jericho didn’t relent. One of Vaughn’s hands dropped to his boot and Jericho heard a dagger pull loose, saw it flash towards him. It sank into his arm and he grunted as it embedded deep, hitting bone. He let Vaughn go and wrenched the blade out with a grimace. Vaughn stayed on his hands and knees, gasping for breath.
‘Jericho, don’t do it,’ Karla cried. ‘If you kill him, you’ll destroy everything you’ve worked for.’
Jericho lifted the dagger, eyeing Vaughn’s exposed neck. Karla’s voice was grating against the rage that seethed in his mind until he couldn’t stand it. He needed her to be silent so he could finish this. After all, this was pack justice.
‘Jericho.’
Vaughn’s eyes shifted to something behind Jericho, and his face paled. Jericho risked a glance back and his heart stuttered. Lydia was standing, hair plastered wetly to her head, one eye bloodshot and her ragged shirt filthy with blood and mud. The world around Jericho beat once, then faded around him, and all he could see was her. He took a shaky step towards her, knife dropping in the mud.
Lydia looked strong and there were spots of colour in her face. She unbuttoned her shirt to show him angry red welts, but nothing more. No wounds that bled her lifeblood. The bullet holes were healing.
‘How?’ he whispered.
She looked back up at him, blinking with confusion. ‘I’m don’t know.’
Jericho lifted a hand towards her, unsure he of what he was seeing, unsure he was seeing her healthy and whole. His hand dropped.
‘I infected you.’ The admission was painful, but he suspected it had somehow saved her. How else could she have survived? Her eyes flicked to the mangled body of the killer on the ground.
‘Did you do that?’ Her voice was quiet, thoughtful.
Before Jericho could think of an answer that made sense, Karla’s voice shot out.
‘Step aside, Jericho.’
Behind him, Karla had come closer, a small sleek gun aimed at him. ‘I can assure you,’ she said. ‘My clip is filled with silver. I like to be ready for any emergencies.’
‘Put the gun down.’ Jericho shifted, making sure he was blocking Karla’s view of Lydia. ‘She’s Breed. We don’t kill our own.’
‘You were about to kill Vaughn.’ Her lips twisted. ‘What’s the difference?’
‘A lot of things were different a moment ago.’ Jericho tried to keep his voice calm, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. ‘She’s one of us now.’
‘She’s a freak,’ Karla said.
‘It’s over, Karla,’ Jericho told her. ‘This is finished now. You’ve lost this fight.’
Karla bared her teeth. ‘There will be consequences to this. You can’t—’
‘Enough.’ Vaughn’s voice was just a rough rasp as he limped towards her. ‘Let it go, Karla.’
Despair broke over her face and she snarled at Jericho, then helped Vaughn up, and they both retreated into the woods. Jericho didn’t watch them go, just turned to gaze at his Lydia and she smiled at him, opening her arms.
‘Come here,’ she told him. And he went to her, like he always knew he would, because he was hers, and she was his.
… THREE WEEKS LATER …
Lydia shifted in the chair, watching Bowden, the quiet in his office thick with truths unsaid. The senior sergeant wasn’t meeting her eyes and she could sense how awkward he felt. She crossed her legs, waiting patiently. It had been two weeks since she’d been in the station, after requesting some pe
rsonal time.
‘How’s Dominic?’ Bowden asked, finally looking up.
‘Fine,’ she replied shortly. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the grief the elderly man was going through and when she knocked on the door of his cottage with food, he rarely answered. Jericho had been with her most days and he had spent many hours with Dominic. Lydia had kept her distance, hoping that somehow Jericho would be able to help ease the man’s loss.
Bowden blew out a long breath. ‘You sure you really want to come back?’
She gave him a small, reassuring smile. ‘I do.’
‘I heard you’ve been seen around town a bit with Ben Jericho.’
She said nothing. Her relationship with Jericho was a private affair. She’d worked hard on him to give her access to Coulter, and hadn’t believed him at first when he’d admitted the wounded Hunter had somehow escaped. She found it harder still to believe they couldn’t track him. But Jericho had involved her in the hunting parties and after leading her own investigation into the matter, had realised Jericho had been right. Coulter had vanished, seemingly without a trace, and she’d had to come to grips with the fact that she wasn’t going to get justice for her mother’s death, after all. The fact burned, but she knew she was strong enough to bear it.
Bowden drummed a nervous tattoo on the desk with his fingers, biting his lip. She could tell he was weighing up what to say next, what to do. He couldn’t fire her without risking the wrath of Jericho and he’d seen by now she wasn’t going to just quit. She loved being a cop, it was who she was. And the change would make her a better one. She’d never felt more focused, her mind so clear. It was as if all her senses had been cranked up a notch and she loved every second of it, as if she were more alive. She adored the complete absence of fear inside her; she had been absolved of the blot of anxiety that had sat on her for so long. Now she was to be feared at night in the forest.
She’d spent some time with Jericho over the weeks, doing exercises as he tested her limits and endurance. Once or twice she’d gone to Crystal Waters to the medical facility there and been tested by a soft-spoken woman called Renee. After days of testing, the woman had announced, with measure of frustration in her voice, that the results of the testing had been inconclusive. The only theory she could form was that Lydia was a variation of Breed, a hybrid, thanks to the altered genetics her Hunter father had passed down to her.
Lydia hadn’t seen Karla anywhere, for which she was grateful. She didn’t know the woman but knew, from what Jericho had told her, the female Breed wanted her dead. Why, she wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter now. She was strong, and could defend herself well enough.
‘How about this.’ Bowden leaned forward, resting his folded hands on desk, chair creaking. ‘You and I have a fresh start, starting from now.’
Lydia gave a noncommittal nod. ‘Sounds fair.’
Bowden looked taken back by her comment, expecting a resounding yes, rather than an implied one. Lydia didn’t elaborate any further. She wanted a fresh start, only she knew there was no such thing. Your demons would always follow you, unless you confronted and slayed them.
She got to her feet, signalling the was conversation over, and Bowden hastily stood as well, mumbling about a Friday-night catch-up at the local pub. She didn’t answer, just strode from the office. Outside, she spied Novak behind his desk, hunched over a file, good hand tapping a pen against the desk. She approached him, her footsteps even and measured. If she was going to return to work, then there was the little matter of clearing the air between them. After all, he had come to her house with a rifle and even though it had just been a nasty joke, aimed to frighten her, it couldn’t be left unanswered. Her score with him hadn’t been settled yet, a fact she aimed to remedy. When she stopped in front of his desk, he looked up with an irritated expression.
‘You still here?’ he asked with a sneer.
She reached over and snatched the pen from between his fingers.
‘I’m back at work tomorrow.’ She placed the pen on the desk, neatly lined up beside the heavy sticky tape dispenser. ‘I wanted to make sure you and I understood each other.’
Novak stood and came around the table with a swagger. ‘I’m pretty clear on where things stand. You don’t belong here, and I do. Since you started, I’ve been hurt more times than I’d like to remember.’ He held his wounded hand up. ‘In fact, I’m thinking I should sue you and your biker boyfriend.’
‘You don’t say.’ Lydia snapped a hand out, slamming it into Novak’s chest. He fell back with a cry and she shot forward, fast. Using all her strength, she allowed some of the beast within to enter her eyes and when she smelled the sharp stink of urine as Novak wet himself, she knew her message had been delivered. She wasn’t the victim any more. She let Novak go and he fell back with a cry. Bowden watched her from the doorway of his office, mouth hanging open.
She smiled at him. ‘Now we can have that fresh start.’
Thanks for reading Bite Deep. I hope you enjoyed it.
If you’d like to know more about me, my books, or to connect with me online, you can visit my webpage rebekahturner.net/, follow me on twitter @rbkahturner, or like my Facebook page facebook.com/rebekahturnerauthor.
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If you liked this book, here are my other books, Chaos Born, Chaos Bound, and Chaos Broken.
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