Page 54 of My Boyfriend Bites

Dante clenched his fists. Did she speak the truth? His recollection of the soucouyant legend claimed they shed their true skin and kept it in within a mortar. To destroy it one had to drench it in salt. In other words, they were fucked.

“I see you understand,” trilled the soucouyant. “Now please do kill me. I need to shed this skin if I’m to take the lagahoo as my next body.”

“You can’t have Selene,” he snapped. “I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me. Once my spirit is freed, I can take whomever I choose.”

“Then choose me.” He offered himself, and Selene sucked in a breath.

“No, you can’t do that.”

“Better me than you,” he muttered through a tight jaw.

“How chivalrous of you. If I had a heart that beat, it might have softened. Tell you what, I’ll possess you first, just so I can have the pleasure of desecrating your female. And then, I will discard your male form to take her.”

“Like fuck,” Dante declared, even as he saw no way out.

“You can’t stop me. No one can.” And with that, the possessed captain charged at Dante, forcing him to protect himself.

For every swipe of her hand, tipped in nails torn jagged, he blocked and punched back, landing satisfying meaty smacks thatdid nothing to stop the soucouyant, who cackled. “Yes, hit me harder. Break this body. It has to die for me to choose another.”

The demand acted as a reminder that he didn’t dare snap her neck. Or throw her off the side. Or do any of the things he’d usually attempt with the enemy.

All he could do was defend until something bad happened that he couldn’t prevent.

The monster used magic.

With a whispered word, and a gob of spit that hit him in the chest, suddenly Dante couldn’t move.

Sorcery, and it worked on vampires.

But worse…

The monster turned on Selene and cackled. “Hope you’re ready for a night you’ll never forget.”

The soucouyant turned to Dante and smacked her lips. “You’re a handsome specimen. Perhaps we’ll indulge in a bit of pillaging before returning to a preferred female form.”

“Leave him alone,” Selene shouted, the last treble turning into a growl as she burst into fur.

The wolf ran for the creature and leaped, the instinct to kill making her latch onto the neck of the soucouyant—who did nothing to stop the attack.

Crunch. The bones cracked, the head lolled, the eyes went unseeing with death.

For a moment, all was still. The magic holding him evaporated, and Dante lunged to throw himself in front of Selene as the captain’s body shuddered. The belly expanded, pushing at the fabric over the midsection before exploding and releasing a ball of fire.

The essence of the soucouyant emerged, and it weaved back and forth in the air, gleeful in its triumph.

Dante’s jaw went tight as he whispered, “I’m sorry we didn’t get more time.” Even more sorry he’d not been able to save them.

Selene whined by his side.

The fireball hovered, and Dante kept his eyes open. He wouldn’t avoid the moment of his death.

“Am I too late?” Renard suddenly appeared huffing and puffing, lugging the box from the captain’s cabin. He set it down and flipped open the lid.

The fireball spun and shot off sparks, the reason being what lay within the wooden coffer. Renard pulled forth a large mortar, a mound of wrinkled and dry skin lay in the cradle of it.

The soucouyant’s skin!

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