Despite the Fangs by Dylan Newton

Author:Dylan Newton [Newton, Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, paranormal, werewolf, spicy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

“I’ll do the talking,” Mason said as they neared the small clearing. With the snow all around, the cottage looked like something out of a fairytale—all stone and stucco with a plume of smoke rising from the chimney.

And here she was—the big, bad wolf—huffing and puffing at the door.

“I’ll just stay back here. Call if you need me.” Ari backed behind two spindly saplings.

Mason gave her a look. It wasn’t a nice one.

Ari stepped out from the tree line, muttering. “Freaking pansy. Can’t face your woman by yourself.”

“She’s not my woman. She’s Michael’s mother.” Mason stopped walking.

“What? Do you want me to knock on the door for you?” Ari hissed, hands on her hips. “I did not search miles of Adirondack wilderness to chicken out—”

“Down!”

Mason shoved Ari to her hands and knees. Then, he stood in front of her, blocking her vision so Ari heard what she assumed was the cottage door banging open.

“Hands in the air where I can see them!” A woman’s voice yelled in falsetto. “You’re on private property.”

Ari struggled to see, adrenaline and the suppressed urge to phase surging within.

“It’s me, Sasha,” Mason said above her. “I need your help.”

Mason’s hands came up, palms out, and Ari was reminded of the first time she’d seen him in the woods with the pissed off bear. He used the placating gesture and the same deep tenor with his ex that he did with a wild animal. Interesting.

He adjusted his stance and Ari’s view cleared. She gasped at the woman standing on the porch, her heart dropping like a boulder.

Sasha was drop-dead gorgeous.

Mason’s ex was everything Ari dreaded she’d be—like a C-cup with a head of long blonde hair that flowed down her back in a mussed, prettily tangled way. She had beautifully arched eyebrows, currently drawn together in a pouty sort of scowl, and she gave off that sexy, fragile, Playboy-bunny type of vibe. It made her look so vulnerable even Ari had the urge to hold her. Except the centerfold-look-alike was holding a gun. A big gun. And the way she stood there, her left hand cupping her stiff-armed right hand, she knew how to fire it, and how to quickly absorb the recoil for another round.

Not good.

“Close enough, Mason! This is my new Beretta, and it’s loaded with Hydra Shock jacketed hollow points—a cop friend got them for me and they’re designed to expand upon impact, leave an exit wound the size of New Jersey. It’ll put any man down—or any beast.

“I’ve gotten to be a pretty good shot living out here all alone. With BioU employees searching for me, I’ve had to be.” The woman’s eyes narrowed down the barrel of the gun as she shifted it slightly. Ari sensed the gun’s cross-hairs aimed at her head, and she fought to remain calm as the woman gestured with the weapon. “Where’s Michael? And who the hell is she?”

Mason turned, giving Ari a nod.

Ari stood warily, her hands out so the nut job saw she was unarmed.

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