Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Izzy held her dagger against her leg. She didn’t want the little nymphs to see the glint of steel in the moonlight. The bull rolled his eyes, the whites showing as foam gathered around his mouth. Poor thing was freaking out, and why wouldn’t he? The nymph holding his ring was hanging off it like a booger. Didn’t they know how much pain and discomfort that caused the cattle?

“This isn’t any of your business, fat ass,” one of the nymphs snarled. She had red hair and great big breasts that made her look like the prow of a ship.

Izzy raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to grin. “Fat ass? Hon, I hate to say it, but you have no room to be calling me a fat ass when you’re hauling udders around like that,” she drawled, relaxing the grip on her dagger.

The nymph gasped. “You bitch!” she growled, running for Izzy.

Yay! A fight!

Looking from the dagger she’d reflexively armed herself with to the frail nymph, Izzy sheathed it again. It would be more fun to fight the nymph hand-to-hand, which sounded so wrong in her head. Nymphs didn’t fight. They were too busy getting all touchy-feely with their chosen elements.

Shrugging, Izzy stormed forward. Going by the red hair, Izzy expected the burning hot hands that grabbed her ponytail. She let the fire nymph get a good grip before she reached back and punched the ever lovin’ shit out of her.

Eyes rolling to the back of her head, the nymph fell. Too bad her ass wasn’t as big as her tits. She might’ve landed a little softer.

Four of the other nymphs skipped over waving their hands as they called their elements. Within seconds, Izzy was drenched in water which quickly froze, and the earth opened up to trap her foot. Laughing with delight, she grabbed one of the water nymphs and threw her into her friends. The girls went down like bowling pins giving Izzy enough time to pull her foot out of the ground before they got to their feet.

She ducked as a fireball blasted past her head. It melted the ice on her body, but singed some of her hair. Miffed that her hair wasn’t going to look so great tomorrow, Izzy tossed her dagger at the fire nymph. The hilt hit the nymph’s temple, knocking her out in one shot.

Apparently the other nymphs took exception to the casual maneuver because the tiny, hair-pulling, scratching females swarmed her.

“Ouch!” Izzy shouted as one of the little botherations pulled her head back by a hank of hair.

She didn’t want to kill the women. She didn’t know what they could possibly want with the bull and wouldn’t have bothered them except for one of them calling her a fat ass. So her weight was a sore spot, so what? But she wasn’t going to let the little shits get away with it.

No longer playing nice, she threw out her elbow catching one of the women in the throat. The nymph gagged and staggered back. Izzy bitch-slapped another nymph hard enough to knock her out, and greeted the last one with a knee to the face. Her blood rushing through her veins at the excitement of the fight, Izzy looked around for more.

Moans, groans, and sniffles from the fallen women punctuated the air. Peering into the night, she could see the last conscious nymph lead the bull from camp. Izzy’s blood raced with exhilaration and a need for battle, which meant that Little Bo Fool was going to lose her bull. Grinning at her own goofiness, she pondered the battered nymphs.

Grabbing some rope from her SUV, Izzy quickly tied up the unconscious women. Linking them together, she made sure the knots were nice and uncomfortably tight before she snagged her backpack from the Tahoe.

She locked her SUV and sauntered after the bull and nymph. Arms swinging in time with the song in her head, she mused over what they could possibly want with a bull. Nymphs weren’t violent and were usually a helluva lot nicer than these had been. Either they were spooked, or they had a damn bad reason for pissing off an Amazon because gods knew that wasn’t something any of the races liked to do. Her only consolation was that they were Veilerians, not human. Otherwise, she’d be up shit creek without a paddle. Again.

With the exception of the pained grunts of the bull in the distance, all was quiet.
Wyoming
was too quiet. Where were all the damn people? She’d even be glad to see humans at this point. What about mosquitoes? It felt weird not having to fight off dog-sized bloodsuckers that could carry off a small child. Shaking the homesick thoughts from her mind, Izzy concentrated on catching up with the nymph and the bull.

It didn’t take her long to spot them. The bull was resistant, well, as resistant as he could be considering the little monster was leading him around by his nose. His tail swished angrily and foam dripped from his mouth. Izzy wasn’t a fan of drool, but she did feel sorry for the bull. Sighing, she strapped the pack to her back and secured it.

And here she thought she was going to be bored. Not even in camp for four hours and she was already on a rescue mission. Rescuing a cow, but still, it was better than twiddling her thumbs in her car.

She stretched her legs and eyed the distance between her and the bull. Yup, she could do it. No problem. She took off running.

* * * *

Grant grunted, wincing at the pull on his nose ring. The little psycho bitch guiding him slapped his snout. So pissed he was foaming at the mouth, he planned revenge. He’d shave all her hair off, smear her in honey, and leave her for the bear shifters to find. No, that wasn’t good enough. He’d tie her up in a room with his sisters for a week. Their constant drone would kill her.

He didn’t know who the bull-ball-eating woman was, but he’d wanted to cheer for her when she kicked the other women’s asses. She’d moved like a whirlwind, and other than one little “ouch” she hadn’t said a word. She was some kind of warrior, no doubt a Veilerian, though he couldn’t remember seeing any female warriors in these parts for years.

The nymph muttered something under her breath about plans going awry when sudden weight on Grant’s back made him rear, pulling at the ring the nymph held. He bellowed in pained fury as the little bitch spun around to get a better grip.

A long leg appeared, the foot attached to that leg landing in the nymph’s face with a sickening crunch. Grant didn’t care. The pressure on the ring had finally eased and he felt almost normal. Well, except for the long legs wrapped around his back.

Heels dug into his sides and long fingers grabbed his horns. “Giddy-up!” His “savior’s” husky voice shouted in his ears. “C’mon, bull! Get up and go! Those little bitches won’t be out for long and as much as it pains me to run from nymphs, I can’t promise they won’t lead you to your doom again.”

Grant shook his head, flinging the foam from his mouth and started walking towards his land. The crazy female on his back started singing “Home on the Range” at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t heavy, but he’d never had a woman riding his back…not in bull form anyway. They usually preferred to ride his cock, but he had a feeling this woman had no clue he was a minotaur.

Had to be a human woman. A crazy human woman with legs that went straight up to her neck. In spite of his sore nose, he breathed in the warm musk of female and roses. It seemed a strange scent for such a wild woman, but he liked it. He shook his head again. No, he wasn’t messing with any women he didn’t know ever again.

“Dude, if you don’t stop throwing your slobber at me, I really will castrate you,” she said, her voice filled with menace. Then, she patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Raging Bull, I won’t cut off your balls.”

He almost relaxed.

“Unless you piss me off.” She was quiet a moment, and then started talking again. “Those were some crazy bitches, LaMotta. Who knew nymphs could be so bloodthirsty? I mean, I probably just earned myself another year of exile by beating them up, but they were asking for it, weren’t they? You can’t just call another woman fat ass and expect to get away with it. Hell, if Saga had been here, we’d be ankle deep in nymph blood.”

Grant lowered his head, trying to make sense of her ramblings. She wasn’t a succubus because although she smelled great, he didn’t feel compelled to bed her. She couldn’t be a shifter because he’d smell her animal on her. She didn’t remind him of the other Veilerian races. He shook his head in thought.

“…sucks in the middle of nowhere,” she was saying. The woman sure could talk. “You play ‘Ain’t Gonna Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman)’ one time and you’re exiled from your tribe for a year. Did I know that’s the song Queen Marina was dancing to when she booty-bumped her mate off a cliff? No, I didn’t know that. Did anyone tell me not to play that song? No! They just assumed I knew,” she muttered, her hands tightening on his horns. “And really, was it my fault that I hit
reply all
on that e-mail about Chief Snow and his shady past as an exotic dancer? No. It was an accident! Now I’m away from my tribe with a stupid bull who was being led to his slaughter by big-boobed nymphs.”

Grant stopped dead in his tracks. Amazon?

Chapter Three

Izzy dug her heels in again, not hard, just enough to tell the bull to keep going. She was surprised he hadn’t bucked her off the instant she sat on his back. He was the most docile bull she’d ever seen. Stupid, she corrected with a pitying look at his horns. He wasn’t docile. He was too stupid to live. Any other self-respecting beast would’ve gored the nymphs before letting them grab his ring.

She sighed, patting his big, stupid shoulder. Poor thing was probably just a stud that wandered away from his pasture. But then what had the nymphs wanted with him? They weren’t big meat eaters as far as she knew. Not to the point where they’d go out and catch their own steak. Something wasn’t quite right about those nymphs, but she’d think about it later, after she got the bull back to his pasture.

“Is this it?” she asked the bull, looking around with pleased surprise at the picturesque sight.

The house in the middle of the valley below was straight out of her dreams. One story of solid wood cabin, it was rustic and perfect. Low to the ground, it would be cool in the summer and easy to heat in the winter. Izzy would have expected the barn to be right next to the house for easy access during the winter, but to her surprise it was far away.

She hummed with curiosity. If it had been her land, she would have done the same simply so no one could sneak up on her. Buildings gave enemies cover to hide behind, so moving all structures further away and making the land around your house completely open provided them with nowhere to take cover.

The bull shook his head again, drawing her attention. “Oh, sorry. You probably want to go on home now,” she murmured, her eyes still on that land.

She’d never cared about owning land or her own home. Living with her tribe had been enough for her, but seeing how the Blood Maidens were her eighth tribe in fifty years…yeah, she wasn’t having much luck with the tribal living thing.

She sighed as she slid off the bull’s back. She was glad he wasn’t dead, even if he was the dumbest animal she’d ever seen. Slapping him on the hip, she said, “Go on home, stupid, and the next time some sweet-talking nymph comes around maybe you’ll stay away from her.”

With one last look at the house, Izzy turned and headed back the way they’d come. Maybe she’d look into property in the area. Maybe it was time to finally go it alone. Maybe
Wyoming
wasn’t so bad after all.

* * * *

Grant watched the Amazon walk away and nearly swallowed his tongue. She had no idea she was being observed by a shifter, so there was no reason for her to walk like that. His heart thudded in his chest. If he had to put music to that walk, it would go something like,
boom-chicka-boom-chicka-boom
. Her hips rolled and her round ass twitched with every step. Without conscious thought, he shifted back to his human shape.

Her scent clung to him like a bur, enveloping him in musky rose. His cock went from soft to hard. He wanted that ass. In his human form, the woman was just a few inches shorter than he, which was impressive for a female. Her ponytail bounced with her every step. Her Mae West figure belied her strength, which only made her that much more attractive to him.

Grant padded after her, impervious to the snow under his bare feet. Her body sent out a mating call, and he definitely planned to answer it. Gods, he was pathetic, he thought as he let his dick point him in her direction. He’d just escaped from a bad situation with this woman’s help and here he was letting his libido lead him astray again.

“I think there’s a law somewhere about carrying concealed weapons,” her husky voice said from the shadows of a tree. He saw the glint of metal and knew she’d pulled a knife.

He raised his hands in surrender, granting her a smile. “I’m unarmed.”

“Uh-huh.” She pointed at his cock with her knife. “And what do you call that?”

He looked down and up again. “Mr. Longfellow?” he said helpfully.

She snorted back a laugh, her head tilting back in surprise. “So you aren’t dumb.”

Grant frowned mightily, feeling anger uncoil in his chest. “Of course I’m not dumb.”

“Then why did you let a group of nymphs lead you around by your nose?”

Feeling vulnerable standing naked in front of her, Grant crossed his arms over his chest. She acted as though she wasn’t impressed by what she saw, but he knew that had to be an act. Women were always in awe of him and his cock. Always.