Python's Embrace (Bitten Point Book 3)

C
opyright © October 2015
, Eve Langlais

Cover Art by Yocla Designs © July 2015

Edited by Devin Govaere

Copy Edited by Amanda L. Pederick

Line Edited by Brieanna Roberston

Produced in Canada

P
ublished
by Eve Langlais

1606 Main Street, PO Box 151, Stittsville, Ontario, Canada, K2S1A3

http://www.EveLanglais.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Python’s Embrace
is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.

D
on’t mock
Constantine’s dog. Princess might weigh only six and a half pounds, but she’s tough—so watch your ankles. Be warned, if she doesn’t like you, then neither will Constantine.

Except he kind of likes Aria, even though Princess would prefer to bury her in a hole.

Could it be because Aria has secrets? Lots of them, and they all have to do with the danger stalking Bitten Point. People are missing, and some have turned up dead. Monsters are roaming, and not just the swamp at night, but the streets too. At the heart of the mystery is a bite-sized woman, a woman Constantine wants to hug tightly in his coils and…keep forever?

A cold-blooded snake, Constantine can’t help but crave the warmth that is Aria, but can he keep her out of mortal danger long enough to make her his mate?

S
tupid swamp
. The water had long ago leeched all the warmth from her limbs. Worse, though, was the mud. It sucked at Aria’s limbs when she tried to rest. It coated her in a slimy second skin that reeked so badly even the bugs didn’t dare make a feast out of her. But at least it hid her from the trackers.

Despite the fatigue drugging all her senses, she knew they were out there, searching. Hunting…

Hunting for me so they can drag me back to the institute and silence me forever—or worse.

Never.

Capture wasn’t an option. Since her escape, she hadn’t stopped running. She’d swum until her arms threatened to fall off. Slogged through thick marsh until her legs filled with heavy lead. She wanted to lie down and take a long nap, but that would mean giving up, and that wasn’t an option.

The monsters at Bittech hunted her, and she didn’t mean just Merrill and his henchmen. Real monsters existed. Beasts without conscience. They would just as soon find her as kill her. Nowhere was safe, not land, air, or water.

But I refuse to be their next victim.
She wouldn’t give in without a fight.

An ululating shriek came in the distance, an eerie sound that echoed, silencing the normal creatures that roamed the night. Stillness descended as even the bugs stopped their hum, and her breath froze in her lungs.

They unleashed the aerial hunters.
She’d hoped to clear the swamp before that happened. Hell, she’d hoped to make it out of Bitten Point before nightfall. However, the bayou hadn’t cooperated, and now that full dark had arrived, the chase was truly on.

As the primal scream filled the dark sky again, she didn’t move for a moment, just remained crouched in the mud and weeds, hoping against hope the hunter wouldn’t spot her. She couldn’t help but crane to peer at the sky overhead, dark yet glittering with thousands of stars.

For a moment, a shadow appeared, spotlighted against the moon, a rapier-gazed creature aloft on leathery wings.

Did it see her? Would it dive? She ducked down lest the whites of her eyes give her away. She lay huddled, still and barely breathing.

Shrieking in annoyance, the hunter banked and flapped away.

A few dozen heartbeats later, she dared to suck in a lungful of air and face forward, only to blink at her newest predicament.

Grrr.

The vicious sound came from a beady-eyed creature, its furry muzzle curled back to reveal tiny pointed teeth.

Grrr.

Did it seriously think to threaten her? She’d eaten squirrels bigger than that for snacks.

But of more concern than the aggressive appetizer was the shadow that rose above them both. A deep voice said, “Well, well, Princess, what do we have here?”

“Trouble if you don’t get out of my way.” Aria glared at the big dude through a dirty hank of hair. Even she could admit she lacked an intimidation factor, yet when he dared to laugh, she didn’t think twice before acting.

The handful of mud hit the behemoth square in the face with a satisfying splat.

“Did you really just do that?” he asked with clear annoyance as he wiped the mud from his face with a hand.

Dumb question seeing as how she had. “Get out of my way.”

“Or what?”

Perhaps flinging a second handful wasn’t the most mature response. Her excuse?
I’m tired.

Before she could explain how he deserved it, Princess attacked!

The tiny dog soared over Aria’s shoulder, and she swiveled her head to watch as the little runt latched its teeth on the coral snake lying on the rock beside Aria. Princess shook her head viciously, not releasing her latch while the serpent hissed and spat its displeasure.

The incongruous sight made Aria blink, but it didn’t change the scene. The tiny dog still held on, and the snake’s spastic death thrash slowed.

Aria fluttered her lashes again as a large hand waved in front of her eyes.

“Let me help you out of the mud.” The low rumble had her turning to peek up, way up, at the speaker.

In the gloom, she couldn’t tell much about the dude other than he was big, really freaking big, and unconcerned that the little dog had viciously taken on a poisonous snake.

“Shouldn’t you be helping your mutt?”

He snorted. “Princess would be offended if I butted in. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Sounded familiar. Aria also had an independent streak, and that meant she eschewed his offer of a hand to crawl out of the muck—because it was so much more impressive when she slogged through the sucking mud and crawled onto the scrub grass.

But she did it, just like she’d escaped Merrill and Harold and all the others hunting her.

Exhausted, Aria flopped onto her back, probably not her wisest course of action, especially since she didn’t know the intentions of the big guy. For all she knew, he was some hillbilly psychopath who’d played a role in the making of the movie
The Hills Have Eyes
—stupid Cynthia making her watch it. Good news, she didn’t hear a banjo. And really, how dangerous could a guy be who called a tiny mutt Princess?

Her gut didn’t twinge. Her inner eagle didn’t caw or flutter her feathers aggressively. Trusting her instincts, Aria remained lying on the ground, giving her tired body a needed moment of respite.

Given the big dude surely didn’t see women crawling out of the swamp every day, she expected a barrage of questions. Normal people would ask things like, “What are you doing out here?” or, “How long do you intend to live?” Men with tempers didn’t take kindly to women slinging mud in their faces.

The stranger, however, didn’t say a word, but he did strip his shirt off and use it to mop his face. The shadows didn’t allow her a clear view, but she saw enough to realize his bulk was comprised of muscle, not fat. Lots of muscle.

We should stroke it and soothe his ruffled feathers,
her eagle suggested.

There would be no stroking. Aria looked away and noted his dog had finished with the snake. The poisonous serpent lay limp on the rock, and Princess pranced and yipped, celebrating her kill.

“What a good girl. Did Daddy’s princess kill the nasty viper?”

Had the big guy seriously just baby-talked to his dog?

Rolling onto an elbow, she gaped at them.

The guy had crouched down to grab his little pet and held her cradled in the crook of one arm. The darned thing was barely a bite, yet the big dude, who smelled slightly reptilian himself, toted Princess as if she were made of fine spun glass while Aria lay in the dirt, looking and smelling like a pile of refuse.

So unfair.
Although why she cared she couldn’t have said.
What does it matter if he mollycoddles his dog? And who cares if I’m filthy? I’m not looking to impress him.

We need a bath,
her avian side complained. While she could handle a little dirt, her inner eagle cringed at the filth coating them. Birds did not like filming their bodies with mud. It impeded their ability to fly.

Speaking of flying, time to get out of the swamp. She’d already spent too much time lying there and needed to get moving before the hunter made another pass.

Aria sprang to her feet, but moved too fast. Her vision wavered, as did her body. A hand steadied her.

“Careful there. I wouldn’t want you to face-plant out here.”

“Let me guess, you’ve got a softer spot for me to plant myself on? Like your bed or the backseat of your car?” She’d heard all the come-on lines, and none of them impressed her.

“Uh, no. What I meant was Princess does her business in this area. It’s why we’re out here, as a matter of fact. She had to do her business.”

Squish. Aria’s toes squeezed the warm piece of poop, and she couldn’t help the hysterical giggle that bubbled from her. “Shit.”