Bite This! (7 page)

F
inn rested
his cheek on Darcy’s trembling thigh. He was blinded by emotion, though he didn’t know why. His own need still raged inside him, but it was tempered by raw feelings of protectiveness and adoration for the woman he had just pleasured.

Oh Darcy, so strong, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable for me.

The thought of it was both exhilarating and sobering.

He licked his lips and the taste of her there knocked him out of his daze.

He kissed his way up her body, the need for her pounding in his ears.

Delicate goosebumps dotted her skin. It was colder than before, and darker, the fire must have gone out. But the air felt good against his burning skin.

“Finn,” she sighed happily.

But he could see her breath hang in the air between them by the twinkling light of the lanterns. Strange. It hadn’t been that cold a minute ago.

A feral look crossed Darcy’s face.

Quick as a thought she had slid out from under him and leapt to her feet. Half crouching, she scanned the yard. It was pitch black out there and he wondered what in the world she could be looking at.

She froze.

“A mountain lion,” she whispered in a low voice.

A what?

He heard a hiss in the darkness.

Something stepped closer, just inside the light of the lanterns.

It was a big cat, like something out of the
Ranger Rick
books his granda used to bring him. But it was black, not golden. And its movements were slightly jerky, not the sinuous gait of the big cats at the zoo.

It moved straight toward Darcy, glitching and pausing like something out of a horror movie.

She stood her ground, her knees slightly bent, hands fisted, chin out.

The thing tensed up, ready to pounce.

No. No, no, no…

Finn swept his hands along the deck and found the flashlight Luke had brought out earlier.

“Here kitty, kitty!” he yelled, standing and waving the light in front of the thing.

Distracted from Darcy, it turned to him.

Shit, now what?

Beside him, Darcy kicked her jeans off her ankles and unsnapped her bra.

“Um, I think we might need to put that on hold for a sec, love,” he ventured.

Darcy ignored him, crouching lower.

Suddenly, she was not a woman.

She was a wolf.

For an instant, the beautiful creature stood before him. Inky black fur covered her body, and gleamed in the moonlight.

The Darcy-wolf lifted her delicate muzzle and sucked in the night air.

Then she leapt onto the cat.

It didn’t even make a sound as she landed on its back.

They tumbled, and the cat managed to come up on top.

Darcy howled and leapt into the air to dislodge it.

The cat sunk its claws into her shoulder and bit into Darcy’s neck, hard.

The wolf yowled in pain.

Finn had to do something.

T
he pain hit
Darcy’s system like ice.

The cat was strong and fast.

But she was stronger and faster.

Enraged, she whipped it from her, then fell onto its still prone body.

The cat began to wrench itself out of her grasp, so she bit down instead on its throat, clamping down hard and holding on as the life spilled from it.

Blood filled her mouth and with it the taste and scent of the cat’s soul.

She heard the squeak of bested field mice, felt the glory of taking a she-cat, scented the trout filled river after a rain.

It had been so long since she last shifted. God, it felt good.

Darcy was filled with the longing to run, to hunt, to…

Finn.

She looked toward the woods. The trees were inexorably calling to her with the scent of fat rabbits and sparkling fresh water.

And she scented something else. What was that?

Fear
.

Instinctively, the predator in her delighted in the odor. She spun to land on splayed paws facing the source of the scent. The prey.

Luke
.

The noises must have woken him. The boy stood in the threshold of the back door, eyes wide with terror.

Darcy was suddenly too aware of her ragged panting, and the blood running down her muzzle from her sharp teeth.

She was a walking nightmare.

The scent of the woods still tugged at her, but she let go of her wolf, and slid back into her woman.

F
inn watched
in horror as Darcy attacked the mountain lion. He had to help her. But how?

Anything he threw at the beast would endanger Darcy.

Frantically, he scanned the deck.

Firewood.

A nice solid length of oak. Perfect to use as a club.

He grabbed it and turned back to the fight, but he was too late.

She had already finished the thing.

The mountain lion lay on the ground, lifeless and limp.

The sleek black wolf who was his Darcy stood over it proudly, blood dripping from her muzzle into a pool on the ground around the big cat.

Darcy lifted her snout and turned to the woods, her shoulders bunched under her glossy fur, as if she were about to dash away into the trees.

Something shifted in the pooling blood, as if it were reflecting the movement she hadn’t yet made.

It must have been a trick of the light.

As if she, too, had noticed something amiss, the slender wolf’s ears pricked up and she turned to the cabin door.

Oh god, the kid.

How much had he seen?

Movement in the blood drew Finn’s attention again.

A ribbon of pure black twisted up toward him, like living ink, snaking out of the blood, onto his leg.

Finn watched in horror as it slid up his body, wrapping him in tiny black tendrils. An exquisite coldness filled him.

Before he could make a sound, it covered his mouth.

The world around him went gray.

He tried to grab the thing, wrest it off himself.

His limbs did not obey. His body was no longer his own.

Horrified, Finn watched his right hand move of its own accord, hefting the weight of the oaken club it held. He took a step toward Darcy, unable to resist.

Oh god, oh no.

But Darcy was strong, the wood might not even hurt the gigantic wolf. And she would sense him coming and dodge anyway, wouldn’t she?

As if in slow motion, she rose seamlessly into her human form.

Perfect,
the cold thought ran through him. It was not his own.

Finn felt his arm rise to strike her.

Desperately, he tried to stop himself.

But it was like trying to move a puppet, without holding any of the strings.

He opened his mouth, trying to force out a sound of warning.

“
D
arcy
!”

Luke’s small voice was hoarse from disuse, but she could still hear the edge of fear.

Whatever had scarred the kid before, she’d just made it a whole lot worse.

She raised her hands, to show him she meant him no harm.

He pointed a shaky finger at her.

No. Not at her. Behind her.

Darcy moved without thinking, and a chuck of wood that would have caved in her skull connected with her shoulder instead, popping it from its socket with a sickening sound.

Fresh agony blossomed, but the pain would have to wait out whatever the threat was to her small pack.

Darcy spun around, ready to shift again if she needed to. Ready to kill…

Finn?

Only it wasn’t Finn. She could see that right away.

Finn’s hazel eyes had gone inky black.

The shadow.

Of course. Killing the cat hadn’t harmed it at all. It had simply needed to find another host.

And now it was inside Finn.

And it wanted to hurt her. Wanted to make Finn hurt her.

Finn’s hand raised the club again.

“No,” Luke yelled, little footsteps running toward her.

Shit.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Darcy raised her good arm to shield herself from the blow, but it never came.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luke dart past her and leap at Finn.

In the last moment before he made contact, Luke burst out of the sweats she had given him to use as PJs.

And he transformed into a small brown wolf.

Luke was a shifter?

Luke and Finn hit the ground with a sound like faraway thunder.

Luke’s wolf teeth, sharp and white, snapped at Finn, sinking into his side.

Oh god, the boy was going to kill him.

And it wouldn’t even stop the shadow.

“No,” she cried, falling onto the two of them. She managed to get her good arm around around Luke’s shaggy little body and pull him off.

He struggled against her wildly, then relaxed in submission.

She placed him down gently.

Finn stood up jerkily, blood blossoming from the bite, soaking through his shirt.

His eyes were still jet black.

Luke snarled and crouched as if to pounce again, his soft fawn-colored ears folded flat against his head.

Oh god, if she didn’t do something big, this demon was going to kill them all.

She would have to get it away from them.

An idea dawned, it was terrible but she had no choice.

Facing not-Finn, she opened her arms wide.

“Come on. It’s me you want. Come and get me. You can have me. Just leave them alone,” she shouted in a clear tone she hoped even a shadow could understand.

Finn froze.

Darcy held her breath, waiting.

A tendril of darkness slid out of his mouth like smoke.

It wended its way through the air toward Darcy, moving with ghoulish slowness, rippling like the fingers of a hand pretending to tiptoe.

Behind it, Finn shook off the cobwebs. He was okay, thank god. Hopefully he would have the good sense to see to his wounds and care for Luke.

“Run,” Darcy growled at them, and prepared to release her wolf.

The plan was simple: Shift, run like hell and draw the thing into the woods, away from everyone.

It would destroy her if it caught her. She knew that. But even that was better than bringing harm to the people she loved.

Finn shouted something unintelligible. Either her ears where playing tricks, or it wasn’t English.

She paused for a second, and he extended his hand.

A silvery web of light shot out of his fingers. Before Darcy’s eyes, it enveloped the shadow, holding it fast.

Magic.

Real
magic.

Luke whined and shied away, trotting back toward the house.

“I need a totem,” Finn said in a tense voice. His arm was still extended but the strain on his face showed that it cost him to hold the thing at bay.

“A what?” she asked.

“A totem,” he explained. “Something to bind it to.”

Darcy scanned the deck frantically.

“Something small,” he added.

Her clutch sat beside one of the Adirondack chairs.

She dashed over to it and reached in.

Her hand came out with the $500 chip.

She threw it to Finn, who snatched it out of the air without taking his eyes off the writhing blackness.

Slowly, he bent his large form to toss the chip on the ground beneath the shadow that was still held fast in his silver bonds.

Darcy watched in awe as he curled his hand into a fist, and lowered it.

The web tightened around the shadow, pulling it down, toward the chip.

When it was a few inches from the chip it was sucked in, like ink billowing into clear water, only in reverse. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing left.

Finn opened his hand and picked up the chip.

It was completely black now, the deepest most hopeless inky color.

It looked tiny in his palm.

“Finn,” Darcy shook her head in wonder. “Finn, that was… that was…”

“Fantastic?” he asked with a mischievous wink.

F
inn gave
Darcy his sexiest pirate smile, hoping he could charm her out of hating him for hiding the magic.

She continued to gaze at him in wonder.

He tried to keep his eyes on hers instead of letting them wander downward. Darcy was naked. Very, very naked.

Using his magic always revved him up. He used only a tiny fraction of his capabilities onstage and always came off ready to lay waste to an assistant, or two.

But this… it was like comparing a drop of water to an ocean.

And here was
his
Darcy in front of him, with that look on her face that made him feel powerful and masculine.

The ache of the wound in his side waned as another ache waxed.

A small sound drew his attention.

Luke.

The boy, rather, the wolf pup, was cowering in the grass.

“Hey, buddy, it’s going to be okay,” Finn told him in a soft voice, extending his hand.

But the furry little creature bolted for the trees.

Shit. His magic.

Darcy had warned him about wolves and magic.

Instinctively, he took a few steps after the boy, but suddenly the ground came up to meet him.

At the last second, he felt Darcy’s arms close around him.

How much blood had he lost?

He touched his side and his hand came away covered in shiny red. It looked like an un-cooled candy apple.

Darkness crept in on the edges of his vision.

Darcy, still holding him, looked to the woods and back. A tiny sigh escaped her perfect mouth.

“Go on, go get him,” Finn murmured.

Darcy now appeared to be separated from him by a dark veil. He was fading.

“He’ll be okay for a while,” she told him. “You won’t.”

“He’s alone, in the woods…” Finn murmured. What was she thinking? Luke was only a little boy.

Darcy chuckled.

“He’s a wolf, not a little boy,” she answered, reading his concern. “The woods are the safest place for him. He’s doing just right, and he’ll be okay by himself, all night if he had to - but he won’t have to. I just need to stop your bleeding.”

Finn turned the idea around in his scattered mind: Luke,
safe
in the dark forest.

Then he was vaguely aware of her ripping off his shirt.
She’s so strong
, he thought to himself proudly.

When she pressed it to the wound, blinding pain flashed through him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting the urge to vomit, then opened them to find Darcy wincing.

“Your shoulder,” he whispered, guilt of his actions descending on him. He hadn’t been able to stop that thing inside him from bashing her with the log. Thank god for Luke, or she wouldn’t be here. None of them would.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, not giving it a second thought. “It’ll heal next time I shift. But I need to get you patched up first. Hold this.”

He pressed on the shirt, it was already soaked.

“The kid’s got some teeth,” he said, beginning to feel a bit more stable.

Darcy rose and he watched her cross to the trellis. The moonlight danced on teasing glimpses of her curves.

Even in his current state, he felt his body respond instantly. He did his best to push the thoughts of her aside. He couldn’t afford to divert any more blood away from his vitals.

Darcy took a deep breath and smashed her shoulder into the trellis.

Finn heard a grinding pop as her shoulder went back in the socket.

God, but she was tough.

“Be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she headed back into the house.

She was back a moment later with a first aid kit. An oversized Tarker’s Hollow College sweatshirt now covered her down to her thighs, he noticed with regret.

She stopped to grab the bottle of scotch off the deck.

“Here,” she said, handing him the bottle. “You’re going to need this. I have to stitch that up.”

“Out here?” he asked.

“No sense bleeding all over my brother’s cabin. And I’m not really sure I should move you,” she replied, already rummaging around in the kit.

“But it’s so dark,” he ventured.

“I can see fine. And it might be better if you can’t,” she remarked.

Oh. Right.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, pulling the cork out of the bottle with his teeth. “To old whisky, and young women,” he said with a smile.

Her chiding look made him feel as warm as the scotch.

She got right to work, cleaning the wound.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” he asked, hoping if she got to talking he would be distracted enough not to embarrass himself by flinching too much. He had a pretty high pain tolerance.

“I grew up on a farm,” she answered, cutting off a bit of string with her teeth. “And I have a lot of brothers,” she added.

“Brothers?” he asked. “Should I be worried?”

She looked at him questioningly.

“You know. I’ll bet they give your boyfriends a really hard time,” he said.

She let out a little barking laugh.

“Brace yourself,” she warned. “Here we go.”

He winced at the pain took another drink from the bottle.

Wow, that was good scotch.

His insides were heated up enough now that her little hands weren’t bothering him. She was deft. He tried not to look but it felt like she was moving quickly.

“That was a nice trick back there,” Darcy said lightly.

“Yeah, I guess I could have shared my secret with you sooner,” Finn ventured, sorry she had a needle in his flesh during this conversation.

She shrugged.

“Clearly I was keeping one or two secrets myself. Before you ask, I’m not one hundred percent sure what that thing was that possessed you, but I think it has something to do with my three hundredth moon. And I’m really sorry, I didn’t know I was putting you in danger,” she told him.

“You knew Luke was a wolf?” he asked, figuring he knew the answer. But she surprised him.

“I actually didn’t,” she admitted tightly. “I’m afraid my senses aren’t what they should be right now. Or maybe I’m just distracted…”

She seemed distraught, so Finn chose not to ask a follow-up. Was it his fault she was distracted?

He tried hard not to think of it as a good thing.

“You’re patched up now. Go easy on it though, I’m not a doctor,” she said, clapping him on the shoulder before he could respond. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Not exactly the circumstances where he’d hoped to hear her say those words.

He got up carefully and let her lead him in. She wrapped an arm around him, offering to support his weight. At first he thought the idea was adorable, she was so tiny and he was so massive. But she held strong and he allowed himself to sag against her, just a little.

Her strength amazed him. He realized she was only letting him save face by not carrying him in the way she’d carried the sleeping child in earlier.

But her closeness was wrecking his determination not to think about peeling that sweatshirt back off of her…

She eased him down onto the bed and she was off again. Water ran in the bathroom and she was back with towels.

“I’m going to clean you up a little, okay?” she offered.

He spread his arms wide to indicate that she could do what she liked.

She flushed and he realized she was looking at his body, admiring it in spite of herself.

He tried to suppress his grin. He had a great body. It was god given too, he worked out some because he enjoyed showing off, but mostly he’d been blessed with great DNA. He was glad if it could bring Darcy pleasure.

She cleared her throat and held out a wet towel.

“You can do this yourself if you want. I just want to get you cleaned up so this doesn’t dry hard. It’ll hurt in the morning if we don’t get it off while it’s still wet.”

That’s what she said,
he thought merrily to himself but managed not to say it out loud. How much scotch had he had?

“I’m still a little light headed, do you mind helping?” he asked her innocently.

She nodded with a determined look on her face.

He relaxed his head on the pillows and closed his eyes so she wouldn’t feel shy.

A moment later he felt the warmth of the wet towel against his chest.

She slowly circled it down his chest to his abdomen.

Finn knew he had a sweet six pack, she would be checking it out now.

But the way she was touching him, the tables had turned.

Now Finn was desperately fighting his body not to embarrass them both by responding to her touch, but it was impossible.

Think of the boy, he’s in the woods and frightened.

“Darcy, I’m okay,” he whispered, putting his hand on top of hers and circling just above the equator for a last tantalizing instant. “We need to find Luke, bring him back.”

“If you’re sure you’re okay I’ll go,” he heard the relief in her voice. “The wound isn’t oozing anymore, I’ve had my eye on it since I moved you.”

“Good, go then, get him. I’m worried about my little guy,” Finn murmured.

“Well,” she hesitated.

“What?”

“He probably won’t come back if you’re still here. He’s obviously afraid of magic, Finn, really afraid - more than most wolves. Makes me wonder if what happened to him had anything to do with magic.”

She looked off into the distance for a moment, as if she could see right through the walls of the cabin and into the woods, before snapping her attention back to him.

“Anyway,” she said. “Rest now, and in the morning take the Jeep and go to the hospital to get this fixed up properly.”

“Darcy,” he tried to protest, but suddenly he was feeling the loss of blood, the pain.

“I’ll find him, Finn,” she assured him, her dark eyes so earnest. “I promise.”

“I’ll come back for you guys,” he told her, knowing his own expression mirrored hers.

She broke eye contact and stood, severing the moment of connection.

“It’s probably best if you don’t. We’ll be fine. I’ll call for someone from the farm to pick us up.”

She was using her cooler voice. It brooked no argument.

But they had been so close earlier, he had felt it. They couldn’t leave things like this.

She pulled the sweatshirt over her head, as if in answer.

At last he saw her naked form in the full light of the bedroom.

She was glorious. Beautiful tan skin, the endless curves of breasts, belly and hips. Finn was overcome.

“I know I’m a little worse for wear, but if you’re gentle…” he began, his voice husky.

She tossed the shirt at his head.

His reflexes were too weakened to catch it.

By the time he had the sweatshirt off his face, she was gone.

To shift. She had taken it off to shift. Of course.

He pressed the sweatshirt to his face again, enjoying the warmth and scent of his woman. She could run if she wanted. He would catch up with her, he was sure of it.