Once Bitten (An Anya Maynard Novel)

Chapter Fourteen

I cursed my wolf again for distracting me and crawled over to Jess. She was bleeding out of her right side, her arm bent at an odd angle beneath her body. I did for her what she had done for me, pressing a hand to her side to try and stop the bleeding.

“No, Jessie,” I sobbed and cradled her head. “Jessie no, don’t…don’t die!”

Something grabbed my shirt and tried to pull me away from her.

“No, I won’t leave her!” I growled through my teeth at the beast that was Connor.

He nodded his massive furred head above me, to the line of men with their guns aimed at me. I was confused, offended and angry all at the same time. Me, they were aiming their guns at me when all I was trying to do was save Jess. I didn’t care about them or what they were trying to protect…that was just it wasn’t it, they wanted me away from Jess. Brad must have ordered them to do just such a thing. I snapped my head up to the man backing towards the surveillance room door, the man holding on to his own bleeding side.

I lunged without thinking.

“Stop her,” Brad shouted.

I felt three bullets bury themselves in my skin, I paused. There was no denying that hurt, but they weren’t silver. I bared my teeth and continued forward, my rage quickly shoving the pain aside when it would have otherwise debilitated me.

“Stop Anya, now!” Connor commanded from behind me. Again he pulled me back, but this time with hands and not teeth.

“He killed her,” I snarled through my teeth without turning around, my gaze fixated on my prize, “it’s only fair if I do the same to him.”

Brad turned to me, and smiled.

His mistake for underestimating me.

I knelt down in a crouch to leap over the handful of men at Connor’s protest now, not the least bit concerned that their weapons were still trained on me.

“He better not have killed anyone,” a familiar voice called from behind me, halting me before I could bound over the guards. “He knows the rules.”

I stood from my crouch and stared in disbelief at Steve as he kneeled beside Jess. There was a large red bag at his side, a giant first aid kit that he dipped into systematically, bandaging Jess up in just moments.  He was checking her out like he knew what he was doing, hands running over her in a quick efficient manner.

“She killed one of mine,” Brad hissed from behind his security force, one hand on the door, “it is fair retribution.”

“No,” Steve rose and walked boldly over to where I stood, bag in hand. He looked me over quickly, evaluating the bullet holes in my flesh just as he had done with Jess as he spoke to Brad. “It is only fair if the first death was unprovoked,” he spared him a glance before returning to my wounds; “I’ve never seen you lose a man unprovoked.”

I could only stare at him. Steve. Steve Melnik. My manager at the diner was here and checking me out like he had some sort of medical degree, prodding me with gauze and spreading a pink cream over the holes in my upper body. He didn’t seem the least bit ruffled, like this was all completely normal. His tone was conversational as he spoke with Brad, a slight condescending edge to it, but nothing upsetting. Of course not, what was there to be upset about?  You know, warring werewolf brothers fighting over two women like they were their property, one of which who was willing to draw blood just to instigate a fight with the other. Yeah, you know everyday stuff, totally normal.

I thought I might faint.

“You dammed ny-” Brad began to sneer but was quickly shut up as Steve took another defiant step towards him.