Page 109 of Twice Bitten

I was more like a shifter and a vampire these days than a witch, but I still hadn’t had many blood cravings. Not like the first time.

I held up my hands. “Stop, Beckett.”

His eyes narrowed, and his head tilted to the side as he studied me. “Has someone else bitten you?”

He had no idea. The truth was far stranger than fiction. “And if they have?”

Sharp incisors lengthened in his mouth, one of them, the one on the ruined side of his face, was a sickly yellow. My gorge rose. “Then I’ll have to purge him from your body. You have one master, Alex.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “I answer to no one.”

Beckett’s face went blank. I spotted the second his muscles tensed.

He launched himself through the air, so fast he became a blur of muscle and speed.

Beckett crashed into me. We went down in a tangle of limbs. Something popped in my ribs. Agonizing pain bloomed along my abdomen, and every shuddering inhale felt like breathing in glass. Claws dug into my collarbones, ripping the delicate skin around my neck.

At that moment, I knew two things:

First? Beckett was heavier than me, and I was on the ground in the most vulnerable position a woman could ever be in.

And second? If I didn’t do something right now, I was going to die.

Beckett’s teeth pulled away from his lips, his sharp incisors slicing through his bottom lip. Blood dripped from his chin. I didn’t bother turning away to avoid being exposed this time. Swallowing his blood again was the least of my worries.

My hands scrabbled against his chest, scratching and clawing to no avail. I bucked my hips futilely. A keening wail ripped from my throat. He was too heavy to move. My eyes burned with frustration.

Beckett bent, his wicked visage looming above me. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see what we become together. All my creatures will rise and no one will be able to stop us.”

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. I’d be damned ifI let him take me anywhere. I’d rather die than go with him. I thought of my mother and the father I never knew, the home I’d lovingly restored, the job I’d taken to try to better my situation, and I knew if I didn’t fight with every single bit of strength I had, everything would end here with my blood seeping onto the cold tiles of a coffee shop.

My breath came in heaving gasps, every bit of oxygen precious as his weight pressed against me. I couldn’t get him off me—couldn’t get enough leverage to get myself out of this. Bone-chilling fear screamed through me. Things couldn’t end like this.

A sparkle of rainbow-colored dust streaked through the air, and from my position on the floor I was aware of Quinn’s face screwed up in grim determination as she headed right for us.

“No!” I screamed.

But Quinn ignored me. She screeched to a halt right above Beckett and sprinkled him with shimmering black dust, one of the few weapons available to fairies and pixies with their diminutive size. Large boils rose on the vampire’s skin the moment the dust hit his skin.

His terrible face screwed up into a grimace. Quinn tried to streak away, but Beckett was too fast. He swatted at the pixie, striking her with the back of his hand. Quinn shrieked and tumbled away, a soft crunch the only sound when her body hit the wall. She didn’t move again.

A broken sob rose from my throat. Quinn’s sacrifice had gained me a precious moment. I wouldn’t waste it. While Beckett slapped her dust away, I mustered up every single bit of power I had inside me. My elbow sizzled and something inside snapped. Heat roared down both arms, coalescing in cold blue fire.

I gripped Beckett’s shirt, holding him tight when he tried to jerk away. Fire licked from my fingertips, searing his skin, boiling him alive from the inside. The vampire’s panickedscreams overtook all other sound. Though he clawed and shredded my chest and arms trying to get away from me, I held on grimly. Letting go meant dying. If I had anything to say about it, only one of us would walk out of here today, and it wasn’t going to be Beckett.

As I watched fire lick over the vampire, I swallowed my panic. Why was I not burning? What unholy power had I conjured in my efforts to get away?

Shouts, not from me or Beckett, sounded in the shop. Two shadows loomed closer, discussing something in rapid fire conversation. But I was busy keeping Beckett from ripping my throat out.

“You can’t touch her!” someone barked.

“The bastard will kill her!”

Beckett’s mouth snapped, his fangs dripping with reddish-brown fluid. He pressed against me, trying to use his bulk to break my trembling grip— his goal to sink those teeth in my neck. His claws ripped through skin and hit bone, tearing me apart and breaking my will bit by bit. I shoved at his chest to keep him away from my most vulnerable parts, pushed more flame from my fingers, and wrapped my legs around his waist, simultaneously holding on for dear life while keeping his upper body away from my throat.

When he realized he couldn’t reach my neck, he went for my arms, sharp fangs tearing through one of my wrists. Blood splattered his face and neck. Warmth ran down my forearm, a crimson line soaking my skin. I had to end this. Now.

“Die, you bastard,” I hissed. The flame flared high above, surrounding us in a near perfect circle.