Page 614 of Love Bites

“You think that hurt, you little bitch?” the Dragon hissed viciously. “I will make you hurt so badly you will beg for death.”

I saw the fist coming before it landed and he was right. Several more of those and Iwouldbeg for death. New goal…avoid the fist. Jumping back, I dropped into a fighting stance and waited for his next move. He laughed and winked.

“I like your spirit — you would have been a good egg donor. Too bad you have to die.”

He lunged and I moved to my left, raising my knee and propelling it into his Adam’s apple as he went for me. The sheer force I had used surprised me. Again, I mentally kissed Dwayne. However, my strength surprised the Dragon even more. Defensive fighting was no longer an option. I fought with everything I had, but so did he.

The sound of bones snapping was sickening, especially because they were mine, but I healed instantly. Using a combination of martial arts and sheer brute force I was holding my own…barely. Blood ran from my forehead, my nose and god knew where else. I wasn’t going to last much longer. At least I’d destroyed his masterpiece…

The howl from my mate chilled me to the bone. Hank was dying and the Dragon had killed him. I had nothing left to lose. Nothing. The Dragon made the mistake of glancing in the direction of the sound and I knew I had one last opening. Without thinking, I sprang forward, grabbed his head and twisted for all I was worth. The shrill scream and the bones unhinging under my fingers gave me power I didn’t know I possessed. I had no idea if Hank was alive or dead, but I was going out fighting. I twisted and I twisted. I yanked, grunted and howled.

Hot liquid covered my hands and made my grip slippery, but I held on. No letting go. If I let go, I die. Break his neck, restrain him. Break it and we might live. Break. Snap. Destroy. Hurt the Dragon like he had hurt my friends—like he had hurt the Panther and Bear Shifters that had died because he wanted to play God.

Dwayne’s Vampyre blood running through my veins stung. The fury and desperation I felt was my own, but it was mixed with something unfamiliar and terrifying. I needed to get to Hank and make him shift…give him my blood, make him drink. But if I let go, I would be lost. Twist. Twist.

He hadn’t even asked me to marry him yet. He couldn’t die before he asked me to marry him. Twist and pull.

Dwayne was going to wear a dress and Granny was going to give me away.

Break the neck. My weeping sounded distant to my own ears.

Gushing blood and tears blurred my vision. Twist…break.

“Essie, stop.” Hank’s voice was harsh, but he didn’t understand. The Dragon was going to kill us. I just needed to twist one more time.

“Look at me,” Hank demanded. “Now.”

I stopped and stared. He was alive and I was too. Had I broken the Dragon’s neck? Was he restrained? I glanced down at my hands and screamed. In a death grip I held the head of a Dragon. His body lay on the other side of the room. Dead eyes stared at me and I dropped the head in horror.

“How did I do that?” I gasped and my body shook like a leaf. “I didn’t know I did that. How did I not know?”

“Essie, it’s okay. You’re okay. The Vampyre took over and you decapitated the Dragon.”

“Decapitation means to cut a head off. I yanked it off of his body,” I said in a shrill voice I didn’t recognize. Curling into a ball, I rocked back and forth and tried to get a handle on myself. “I don’t want to be a Vampyre. It’s dark and wrong.”

“You’re not a Vampyre. You’re a wolf. Dwayne gave you—gave us—a gift. We’re alive because of what you did.”

“I tore his head off,” I said flatly and then started to laugh. I knew I was probably in shock, but all of a sudden I was crazy happy about the fact I’d just torn the head off of a Dragon. This wasn’t much different than other jobs I’d been on…actually it was. I’d used weapons and I’d been detached from the situation. I didn’t know the victims personally and I hadn’t torn their heads off with my bare hands. No amount of psychotherapy—or even a lobotomy—was going to dull the memory of this one.

“Would it have made a difference if you’d used a sword?” he asked as he gathered me in his arms.

“I don’t know. I’m bleeding on you,” I muttered.

“Yes, and I’m bleeding on you. You saved our lives. I was on fire, for god’s sake. We should be dead.” He held me close and his body shuddered. “You do realize we’ll have to name our first child Dwayne.”

That gave me pause. As much as I loved Dwayne, I wasn’t crazy about his name. “Do we have to?” I asked.

“Yep.” Hank grinned and pulled me to my feet. “Come on, Essie the Ripper. We need to check on the others.”

“I think I would have felt bad even if I’d used a sword.”

“Why? You did what you had to do.”

“Honestly, I don’t feel bad about killing him. It was him or us. I feel bad about my loss of control, and the small but significant fact, that I had no clue I’d torn his noggin off of his body.”

“I can see how it might seem a little odd,” Hank agreed. “But it was sort of hot in a female Rambo kind of way.”

“Oh, hell no. You did not get turned on by watching me rip a dude’s head from his shoulders?”

“No. That part was actually fairly gross. It was watching you fight and own it. You were a machine.” He held me tight to his body and I drank in his strength and calm.

“You know, this Vampyre thing will wear off and I won’t be such a machine anymore,” I said as I snuggled closer.

“I’m good with that.” He laughed and pulled me from the carnage. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“Ditto,” I said and never looked back once. “And if you ever call me Essie the Ripper again, I’ll rip something off you to prove I’m a woman of my word.”

“Duly noted.”