Witch Face by Andris Bear

Author:Andris Bear [Bear, Andris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andris Bear

Chapter Eighteen

“Son of a bitch!” Dean slammed on his brakes, the back end of his Jeep trying to swing around to the front. Wrestling the wheel, he counter-steered, hoping to all that was holy he didn’t avoid driving over the women only to roll the damn Jeep onto them.

His tires made an unholy shriek as they skid to a jarring halt. Dust and gravel floated in the beam of his headlights, he noticed numbly as he craned his neck to search over the hood of his vehicle. He hadn’t felt an impact, but no one was popping up in front of his grill either.

Either he hadn’t stopped in time, or it was damn close and the crazy asses were too busy shitting themselves—as he was—to stand and reassure him that he hadn’t killed someone.

Slumping in his seat, Dean waited for his heart to dislodge from his skull and start beating again. Then he shoved open the door, oozing more than climbing out of his Jeep. That was how it worked when his spine had wrapped itself around the steering wheel and refused to return to its rightful space.

He sent up one prayer after another as he moved around to the front, his body on autopilot.

Until he laid eyes on the stark white face of Alexandra Winther. He was too stunned to do anything but mouth a garbled, “Alex?”

“Dean!” Uncurling herself from the other woman, she pushed up. Her eyes were unfocused and dazed, and her lip was bleeding. From one second to the next, she startled wide awake. “Did you bring your gun?”

Before he could comprehend the question, she further stupefied the hell out of him by pressing her palms against the insides of his knees and shoving them apart. This disconcerting action was immediately followed up by her ramming her head between his legs to get a look behind him. “What the fuck, woman?”

“Did you bring your gun?” she hissed from under his crotch.

“No,” he growled. “And I don’t keep it there anyway.”

“Shit,” she said, disengaging. Her gaze dropped to her lifted palms, which were scraped all to hell, before turning to the other figure in the road. “Evie?”

Oh, shit.

“Did I hit her?” Dean croaked past a closed throat. Evie was slumped at an awkward angle, her cheek pressed against the cold pavement. Worse, her complexion was pale and waxy. His hands were tentative as he gently turned her unto her back. The last thing he wanted was to injure her further. Prying back an eyelid, he checked her pupils.

His head fell forward with relief. “She has pupil response. That’s a good sign.” Straightening, he said, “I’m going to call an ambulance.

“No!” Alex grabbed his hand, using it as leverage to pull to her feet. “We don’t have time. Help me put her in the Jeep.”

“What? No, moving her could cause more damage.”

“I know it’s counterintuitive, especially for a cop, but I need to take her to the house.” Alex moved in close, lifting beseeching brown eyes to his. “I would never do something to endanger her, so I’m asking you to trust me on this.

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