Wicked Bite

  He released her, and his palms instantly felt empty. And cold. “Something about quantum physics and altering matter,” he said. Truth be told, he didn’t give a shit. Witches created fire and threw it, so he got out of the way. It didn’t seem to matter how they did it. “You’re all firebugs.”

  She sighed. “We use applications of quantum physics, string theory, Brunt’s theory, and—” Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t look bored.”

  “I’m not,” he said quickly. Then he frowned. “Forget that. I am bored. Get to it.”

  “Fine. We can alter physics. When you shifted into dragon form, you hurt yourself. I can heal you by the application of physics. I can heal you internally, on a subatomic level.”

  Hope burst in him, and that just pissed him off. “Bullshit.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing and shaking her. While he wanted her aware of his strength, he didn’t want to put bruises on that delicate skin. “If a witch could heal me, my sister would’ve already done it. What are you playing at, lady?” Simone was half witch, and she could throw fire with the best of them.

  Nessa shook her head, and a couple of dark tendrils fell down. “Simone can’t heal you. I can.”

  He lifted his chin. “Explain.”

  Her mouth tightened. “The vast majority of witches can create fire out of air. A small minority, very small, canna’ do that.”

  He frowned. “You can’t create fire?” At her sad shake of the head, he added, “Why not?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s most likely a genetic mutation, just like anything else. But those few of us who can’t create fire can do something else.”

  “Alter physics on a subatomic level,” he whispered.

  She sighed. “In ancient times, we were called healers.”

  He’d thought healers were myths. “You can cure diseases?”

  “No.” She rubbed her hands together as if chilled. “We can’t cure naturally occurring diseases. We can help to heal the types of injuries you created deep down by doing something in such violation of the physics of our world.”

  He’d violated physics by shifting into a dragon instead of a bear? The entire process had felt terrible. “So you’re here to help me. My sister sent you?”

  “Aye,” Nessa said, looking pointedly at the talons on his bicep.

  Warning ticked down his spine. “Nessa?”

  “Aye?”

  “What aren’t you saying?” His body went on full alert.

  She didn’t so much as twitch. “There’s a cost.”

  “Money?” How disappointing.

  “No,” she whispered.

  He reached out and lifted her chin with one knuckle. Her skin was the softest thing he’d ever felt. “All right. What are you saying?” He wasn’t sure he could believe anything she said.

  Her body straightened. She looked him in the eyes. “If I heal you, then I want something in return.”

  He dropped his hand. What would a witch leader want from a shifter who lived across the ocean from her? “You wanna make a deal?”

  She nodded, her shoulders going back. “Yes.”

  To live, he’d do almost anything. “What do you want?”

  She met his gaze, her eyes deadly serious. “If I heal you, then we mate. For life.”

  Chapter 2

  Nessa stared up at the tall male, her voice barely shaking as she made her demand.

  He didn’t move.

  She blinked.

  Then he threw back his head and laughed, long and hard. His entire body, his bare chest, even the sharp dragon talons on his arm danced. His laugh was deep and somehow sexy—yet oh so very insulting.

  How dare he. She lifted her foot.

  He stopped abruptly, and his chin lowered. “I don’t give a warning twice.”

  Her mouth went dry. Even ill, Bear McDunphy was all predator. He looked like a bear, and she had to wonder how humans failed to notice that he wasn’t one of them. Not even close. Shaggy brown hair fell to his shoulders with a defiant curl. He stood many inches over six feet tall, and his chest was wide. A promise of danger poured from him. For the briefest of moments, right after he’d laughed, his honey-warm chocolate eyes had softened. A little.

  Now they’d returned to the solid hardness of flint.

  She slowly lowered her foot back to the floor. “You’re correct. Violence doesn’t solve anything.”

  “I disagree.” His voice was a low rumble that somehow wound all over her sensitive skin.

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Violence can solve a whole lot of situations.” He took a step back from her, staring down from his unfair height advantage.

  “Figures,” she returned, relaxing as he gave her space. “Shifters employ violence when thought and reason would do.”

  His eyes darkened, and he moved right back into her personal bubble. His knuckles brushed beneath her jaw and caressed down to tug her jacket away from her pounding jugular. “And you want to fuck one until his fangs connect in your flesh.”

  The image shot into her mind, and tension uncoiled in her abdomen. His touch was warm and oddly determined. Mating a bear shifter, a leader of his nation, would be animalistic. Probably outside the scope of her imagination, such as it was. She was way beyond her comfort zone, so she withdrew into etiquette. “There’s no need for such language,” she said, her voice going hoarse.

  His upper lip quirked. “Baby, you definitely picked the wrong shifter.”

  No. He was the absolute right shifter—for more than one reason. At the reminder of his species, she relaxed. She could handle this. She smiled.

  His eyes narrowed.

  She smiled wider.

  “What are you up to?” he asked.

  More than he could ever know. “You need to be healed. I’d like to be mated. It’s a simple transaction.”

  “Simple?” He snorted. “Right. Matings are never simple.”

  “This would be.” She had it planned. Well, most of it. If she ended up having to kill him, that would be unfortunate. “I heal you, we mate, and then I go on my way.” Maybe. Probably not. Evidence showed that Bear was probably a bad guy doing bad things, and she’d have to stop him. After they mated.

  He rubbed the scruff already appearing on his jaw. “Most witches believe shifters to be a lower class of immortal.”

  Aye, they did. Shifters were animals, for goodness’ sake. “That’s not true.”

  He tugged on a tendril of her hair—none too gently. “One rule. No lying. Got it?”

  Her mouth opened and then closed. “Of course.” It wasn’t a lie to completely leave out most of the truth, was it? Maybe. But she had a job to do. Several, really.

  “Why, Nessa?”

  The way he said her name, in a way that drew out every sound. Like he was rolling all the letters around and settling on the soft ending. “I’m a century old, and I’m tired of following all the rules—being on the Council and creating laws,” she whispered.

  His eyebrows rose. “So mating a shifter is your rebellious stage?”

  She sighed. “Kind of. It gets me freedom.”

  He studied her, the hard planes of his face sharp in the dim light. “Bullshit.”

  She jerked back. Nobody spoke to her in such a manner. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m calling bullshit.” He crossed his arms. Even weakened by his illness, sinewed muscle flexed. “Let’s see. You didn’t choose any old shifter. You chose me.”

  “You require my assistance,” she gritted out, her breath heating. Thunder rolled outside, and she jumped.

  His eyes glittered in the small cabin. Even just standing and talking, he was all predator. “I’m a bear shifter who has turned into a dragon before.” His voice grew thoughtful. “Dragons employ fire . . . like witches.”

  She couldn’t back up any more. Oh, she’d underestimated Bear McDunphy. He was much smarter than she’d thought. “Yes.”

  “Mating me might give you the ability to create f
ire,” he said slowly. “Interesting. Why don’t you just mate another witch and get his powers?”

  She sighed. Revealing secrets of any kind went against her very DNA, and pretty much everything having to do with witches that the rest of the world didn’t know—was a secret. Yet there was no doubt Bear wouldn’t cooperate with her until she gave him a truthful answer. Aye, she had to respect him for that. “When a witch healer mates a fire-throwing witch, both powers are subdued. They both get weaker instead of stronger.”

  “You sure?” He lifted both eyebrows.

  She nodded. “Aye. It has happened twice that we’ve tracked.” She definitely wanted the ability to throw fire and fight, to not be such an oddity. Especially in her line of work. “You’ve figured out my motivation.” One of them, anyway.

  “Have I?” he asked silkily, his hard stare going right through her.

  Bollocks. He was beyond smart. So much for the good-ole-boy act. Just who was Bear? “Aye,” she murmured.

  “How many witch healers are there?” he asked.

  “Not even ten that I know of,” she said.

  He lifted his chin. “That is rare, then. Your parents?”

  “Were both healers,” she said. “Lost them before I remember.” She didn’t have time to really get to know him. “My offer?”

  “What happened to your parents?” he asked, completely ignoring her words, his eyes mellowing to the color of an expensive bourbon catching candlelight.

  She shook her head, and more of her hair escaped the pin. “We don’t need to bond.”

  He pulled on another tendril, and the pin dropped to the floor. Her hair cascaded down. He exhaled sharply.

  “Uh,” she murmured, pressing back.

  “Pretty.” He tangled one broad hand in her hair, his voice roughening even more. He leaned in and sniffed. “Roses.”

  She held perfectly still. Her body flared alive, and lava heated through her abdomen. “Bear? This is unnecessary. No bonding. Let’s reach an agreement.” Her voice remained level only through supreme effort.

  He straightened, and his smile was almost lazy. “Baby? You wanna fuck, bite, brand, and mate . . . but not bond. Do I have it right?” His hold tightened.

  Erotic tingles rippled along her scalp, and she couldn’t help a small gasp. “That isn’t quite how I’d put it, but close enough,” she said primly. Her clothes suddenly felt too restrictive. The shifter was overwhelming her, and she needed to regain control. “Would you please step back?”

  His grin widened. “We’re gonna have to get a lot closer than this for your plan to work.”

  Bear. Naked. Over her. The images slammed through her brain so fast she could barely breathe. Her nipples peaked against her thin cotton bra. Maybe this had been a bad idea. “Perhaps we should rethink this.”

  He leaned in, his lips barely brushing her temple.

  Her knees wobbled.

  “What happened to your parents, Nessa?” he asked softly, his breath heating her skin.

  She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “Ah, they were, ah, killed in a skirmish with a demon squad.” Now witches and demons were allies. Life was weird. “I was raised by my Uncle Boondock—a witch who taught me to sew and shoot arrows by the time I was five.”

  Bear remained way too close. “Sounds like a character.”

  That was the understatement of the millennium. “Aye. He’s a healer, too.” She slapped both hands against Bear’s naked chest and shoved. Hard.

  He didn’t move a centimeter.

  Hard and smooth, his chest warmed her palms. What would he be like at full strength? Healthy and complete? She spread her fingers out and slid healing heat inside, seeking the damage he’d caused by defying physics and her laws.

  Bear jolted.

  “Let me show you,” she murmured, stepping closer to him and resting the side of her face against his upper chest. Her hands moved lower, toward his solar plexus. She closed her eyes to concentrate and settled in, her body starting as she brushed against an obvious erection. Her knees almost gave this time. “Well then.” She moved slightly to the side, her hands moving with her.

  He sucked in air. “What are you doing?”

  “Showing you.” She concentrated harder, going beyond muscle, bone, and tissue. The need to heal lived within her, so she went deep looking for the damage. Beyond the physical. Somewhere else. A place fundamental to shifters, one below and behind Bear’s heart. The damage there, the rips and gouges, made tears fill her eyes. In him, trying to help him, she shared his pain.

  She heated her energy, slowly and methodically picturing the essence of Bear healing.

  His growl was a low roll of pleasure.

  She shivered. The damage was extensive, so she concentrated on one small area, soothing it over and putting the pieces back together, much like restructuring a bone. But this was more fundamental than a mere bone. All sounds and sights of the world around her disappeared. Nothing else existed. She lost herself in repairing that small part of the damage. Her hands began to shake, and her strength ebbed. She swayed.

  “Hey.” Bear grabbed her shoulders and held her upright.

  She jerked back into the present. Drawing a deep breath, she slowly tried to move away from him. There was no way he’d been in bear form for three solid months, or there’d be at least a little more evidence of healing. He had definitely shifted from bear to man more than a couple times during the summer. What had he been doing?

  He held her in place until her legs regained enough strength for her to stand on her own. She looked up at him.

  He studied her, his eyes unreadable, his entire body one long solid line. Gone was the dangerously teasing cranky Bear. This was the real Bear, and he was way too primitive.

  This was too much. He was way too much. She’d overestimated her power and strength, and she’d underestimated his.

  “That felt good,” he said softly.

  She nodded. “You have a lot of damage.” Could she completely heal him? She wasn’t even certain any longer. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Ever.”

  “I’m sure,” he murmured. “Mating a witch would help me, right?”

  She stilled, and the walls felt like they were getting closer. “Probably.”

  “Mating a witch with healing abilities would probably really, really help,” he mused.

  She couldn’t see past him to the door. “I, ah—”

  “You wanna back out, Councilwoman?” he asked, not moving an inch.

  The use of her former, temporary, title reminded her of all she had to lose. All she had to gain. Yet her plan, her glorious plan of mating him and remaining in perfect control of the situation, seemed silly now. The situation was beyond her. The male was way beyond her, and she’d only gotten a glimpse of who he really was. What had she been thinking? “I’m not certain I fully thought this out,” she admitted.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “No shit.”

  She cleared her throat.

  “I’m thinkin’ it’s too late to back out,” he said.

  Her chin lifted. “That is not your decision.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Oh, she’d give anything for the ability to throw fire. To burn him a little. “No.”

  He released her and traced one finger—just one finger—across her cheekbone, nose, and down her jaw. “I’ve never had anybody that was just mine. All mine.”

  His touch ignited her skin, heating all the way down her body. A pulse set up between her legs. She kept perfectly still. “I have no intention of being all yours. If this happens, after a lot of negotiation, then we’ll go our separate ways.”

  His hand caressed down, easily enclosing her entire neck. “You really think that’s how a mating happens with a shifter? Any shifter? Much less with me?” His hold was infinitely gentle, but the strength in those fingers, in that broad palm, couldn’t be denied. “You chose an alpha, baby. Head of the entire grizzly nation.”

  “Aye,” she whispered, her
trachea moving against his hold.

  His head lowered slowly, deliberately, his molten gaze trapping hers. “Do you honestly think I’d let my mate go? Ever?”

  She couldn’t shake her head, so she didn’t. “A mating of convenience doesn’t carry possession with it.” While she wanted to sound determined, her tone had gone breathy. Soft.

  “There ain’t nothin’ convenient about a mating.” He leaned in, his lips barely brushing hers. “Possession is too tame of a word to describe what mating me would carry with it.” His emphasis on her words held a clear warning.

  Yet if she was correct about him, very soon he’d have a lot more to worry about than an absent mate. “I need ta think about this.” The more nervous she became, the stronger her brogue emerged. She cleared her throat. “If we’re going to discuss this rationally, then we both need to sit down and introduce our terms.”

  “Terms?” Amusement lightened his eyes to a honeyed warmness. “Seriously?”

  She began to nod just as he straightened and stood back. His head lifted, and he scanned the area, his body going tense.

  Witch signatures and power slammed into her a second later. She sucked in air. They were close. She’d been distracted by Bear and hadn’t been paying attention.

  He kept perfectly still, his gaze slashing to her. “There are witches on my property.”

  “Aye,” she said weakly, looking for the door. How had they found her so quickly in Seattle? She’d left no trace.

  “Friends of yours?” he asked.

  “No.” Just as she said the word, the door burst open. “Run!” she screamed.

  Chapter 3

  Bear rolled over Nessa, tucking her into his chest and dropping to the ground. “Stay. Cover your head when I shift.” He moved into a crouch.

  She gasped and curled, slapping her hands over her ears and shutting her eyes.

  He leaped over the crappy sofa, shifting in midair and sending out a wave of power strong enough to cause concussions. The air vibrated and shimmered behind him. Excruciating pain flared through his head, blurring his vision for a second as he turned back into a bear. His eyesight cleared just as he reached the door and crashed into two men, throwing them both out into the pounding rain. Animalistic rage consumed him, along with the smell of Irish roses.