Midnight Bite(8)

By: Cynthia Eden

Martin drove his claws into Devereaux’s chest. Blood poured from him, and Devereaux heard Lark scream.

Wrong choice, wolf. He snapped Martin’s neck. A hard yank of his hand, and Devereaux tossed the body to the ground. As expected, the wolves went freaking wild. Two charged at him, while the other two ran for Lark. Oh, hell no, you don’t.

He caught the two who came for him. He let his own claws lengthen, and he slashed those bastards. Then he grabbed them and tossed the shifters into the street. A passing car slammed on the brakes and the driver’s angry horn filled the night.

“Get away from me!” Lark yelled, and in the next moment, Devereaux caught the scent of burning flesh.

He whirled and saw one of the werewolves stagger back, clutching his face. Lark had shoved some sort of…silver trinket into his cheek. An earring? Clever. The wolf was flipping out as he ran and burned.

But the other guy—the last standing werewolf—let out a bellow of fury. His hands flew up toward the night sky as the werewolf’s body shook. He was still a man, but he was pulling up the beast within. Devereaux saw the fellow’s muscles bulge, his fingertips lengthen into claws, his fur burst along his skin…

The bastard is daring to change with so many humans nearby? With so many eyes? With Lark so close?

The wolf intended to kill her. He knew it. Therefore, well, that wolf was dying.

Devereaux yanked out his silver knife. He grabbed the wolf—mid-shift—spun the fool around, and plunged his knife into the SOB’s heart. “Mine,” he whispered into the dying werewolf’s ears. “Mine to keep, mine to protect, mine forever.” He let the guy fall. Then he whirled back to face the others.

Martin was starting to rise with a groan. A broken neck wouldn’t kill an alpha. The others crawled limply toward him.

“Mine!” Devereaux blasted at them. “And no one takes what is mine. Not without a war. Be sure you’re ready for that before you come at her or me again.”

Then—because he hated that Lark’s feet were cold—Devereaux scooped her into his arms once more.

He rushed down the street, and soon, they were at the limo. Helsing stood by the back door, holding it open for them. Devereaux slid her inside, cradling her carefully. The door slammed behind them. Helsing whistled as he made his way to the front of the vehicle. And then…

They were moving. Leaving the werewolves.

Lark was in his arms. She’d kissed him at midnight. She’d chosen him.

Her scent surrounded him. She tempted and beckoned. So Devereaux decided it was time to take. He pulled her even closer, and his mouth went for her throat as—

A stake poked into his chest.

“I don’t think so,” Lark told him flatly.

He’d forgotten that she had a stake hidden up her sleeve. Literally.

“The kiss was payment for our little deal. You don’t get blood from me, vamp.”

Eventually, yes, he would.

A little shiver skated over her. “Tell me what in the hell is going on. Tell me why I’ve got monsters coming out of the freaking woodwork. Why is everyone after me?”

“Put down the stake.”

“Tell me!”

He rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “I just saved you. Are you really going to stake the vamp who protected you?”


His eyes narrowed on her. He could see her racing pulse. Pounding fast at the base of her throat. It would be so easy to lean forward and sink his teeth—

The stake jabbed harder at him. “Why is everyone after me?”

Devereaux sighed. “Because, love, the new year has started.”

“Uh, yeah, so?”

“And every beast out there has one resolution…”

She waited.

“That resolution is…to get you.”

Chapter Three

New Year’s Resolution Number Three: Pick a new exercise regime. Get your heart pumping!

She was being hunted? By all of the paranormals? She was supposed to spend the start of the new year running? “That new year’s resolution sucks,” Lark snapped at him as a shiver slid over her body. Fear was heavy in her heart. A pack of werewolves had just come after her. Of course, she was afraid. On her own, she wouldn’t have been able to defeat them. The vamp had saved her ass, literally.

Then he’d tried to drink her blood.

You just couldn’t trust vamps.

Devereaux exhaled…and finally moved away.

She kept her fingers clenched around the stake. Just in case. Vamps could move amazingly fast, and she wasn’t about to take any chances.

“It’s an unfortunate resolution. But I got to you. So they’ll just all have to back the hell off.”

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