Cursed (The Order of the Wolf) (11 page)

“Get the hell out of here,” he snarled at Taylor and took a step forward.

If the beautiful female was intimidated by his much larger size, it didn’t show. She never slowed, releasing the magazine in her sidearm with a flick of her thumb, sending it dancing along the asphalt. Her free hand wound behind her back and returned with a fully loaded clip. She slammed the ammunition into the gun and locked it in place with her palm.

She moved forward and he finally got a glimpse of her eyes. Her irises were a deep-hued blue, as dark and vast as the clearest midnight sky. And the determination glimmering inside those devastating, beautiful orbs was unshakable.

“Out of my way, lycae.”

Her soft voice was like velvet rubbing against his spine, causing his skin to ripple in pleasure. The hair on his arms lifted, the wolf inside him stirring to life, an inner key sliding into a lock. The bones in his body seemed to thrum. Something that had been dormant his entire life took hold. How could he have been so blind in the past? The way he’d felt for Deidre hadn’t even come close to this level of recognition. He shook his head and faced the furious female who had the voice of a siren, the face of an angel and the body of a goddess.

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” she purred and lifted the gun.

Christ, but she’s ballsy.

One murderous mission. One killer case of PMS. Who said “the curse” was a myth?

Hunting Medusa

© 2014 Elizabeth Andrews

The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1

Ever since the original Medusa ticked off Athena by bragging about her beauty, her cursed daughters have been paying for that mistake. To this day, successive Medusas play cat and mouse with the descendants of Perseus, known as the Harvesters.

When Kallan Tassos tracks down the current Medusa, he expects to find a monster. Instead he finds a wary, beautiful woman, shielded by a complicated web of spells that foils his plans for a quick kill and retrieval of her protective amulet.

Andrea Rosakis expects the handsome Harvester to go for the kill. Instead, his attempt to take the amulet imprinted on her skin without harming her takes her completely by surprise. And ends with the two of them in a magical bind—together.
 

Though their attraction is combustible, her impending PMS (Pre Magical-Curse Syndrome) puts a real damper on any chance of a relationship. But Kallan isn’t the only Harvester tracking Andi, and they must cooperate to stay at least one step ahead of a ruthless killer before they can have any future, together or apart.

Warning:
A hunter who’s fallen for the woman he’s bound to kill, a Medusa who must trust him with her life, and a magical curse only love can break.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Hunting Medusa:

“Time for bed.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Kallan gave her a bland smile. “Time for bed.” He guided her out of the bathroom and steered her into the next doorway, flipping on the light as they went. Her bedroom.

The bed loomed large in the middle of the space, reminding him uncomfortably of being pressed up against her back in the dark kitchen.

She balked, then stumbled when he gave her arm a gentle yank. “I am not sleeping with you.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall asking you.” He pushed her toward the bed.

She tried to dig her feet in, but she didn’t get any traction with her boots on the hardwood and skidded into his side.

He nudged her onto the edge of the bed. “Boots.”

She stared up at him, appalled, for a long moment. “You are insane.”

One of his eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You really don’t have a choice, Medusa.” He sat down and caught one of her knees, lifting her leg to untie the shoe and push it off.

She struggled against him, making him grunt when she elbowed one of the slash marks on his arm.

He wrestled her other shoe off and then dragged her onto the bed before stretching out beside her.

She sat up, tugging on her arm. She could go nowhere so it was a futile effort.

Kallan smiled at her. “It’s been a long night. Lie down.”

“I’ll kill you.”

He laughed. She never stopped. “I think that’s my job, my Medusa.”

“I’m not your Medusa. I’m not your anything. My name is Andi.”

He put his free hand behind his head and studied her for a long moment. “Andrea Rosakis. I know your name.”

“How did you find me?”

“I don’t think we’ll discuss that. But I suppose I should inquire as to whether there are any weapons in your nightstand I need to worry about tonight.”

Her look of disbelief made him sit up. He crawled over her, then straddled her and tried not to think about the position while he used his free hand to pull open the drawer. A flashlight, hefty enough to bash him in the head. He tossed it away so it clattered across the floor and landed near the closet. A tattered book. He flipped it over to look at the cover. A romance novel—the half-naked hero on the cover ravishing the slightly more dressed woman in his arms. The worst she could do with that was give him some paper cuts. Or another painful erection.

Kallan cleared his throat and dropped the book back into the drawer, where there were still some scattered papers, a pen—which he threw in the direction of the flashlight—a black satin sleep mask, and way in the back… He closed his fingers around something more substantial than the pen.

A vibrator, he discovered when he pulled it out of the drawer.

He shot her a quizzical glance and found her face averted, but not enough that he couldn’t see the hot color staining her cheeks. He glanced back at the toy, imagining her using it despite his best intentions. He could understand a woman like the Medusa having the same needs as other women. But why wouldn’t she indulge them with a flesh and blood man? She only suffered the effects of the curse for a few days each month. He flipped the tiny switch on the bottom of the vibrator, and the thing hummed to life.

Under him, she stiffened, turning her face further away.

He shut it off and dropped it back into the drawer. “Well, I don’t think I’d consider that a weapon,” he said lightly. He was suddenly aware of how close she was again, her breasts a scant inch from his belly, her thighs pressed tight between his knees. Her scent teased his nose—something with wildflowers and herbs. He sniffed. Basil, maybe. And sandalwood. Something else. He resisted the urge to lean nearer to find out what and climbed off her, ignoring his body’s protest. It had definitely been too long since he’d indulged his own needs if he couldn’t control these urges around the Medusa for even an hour.

“Lie down.”

When she didn’t immediately obey him, he gave her a gentle push until her head hit the pillow. She glared up at him, her cheeks still bright pink.

“You’re going to need your rest. We have work to do tomorrow,” he said.

She averted her gaze.

He had to find out if any of the lore talked about the amulet being embedded in the Medusa’s skin. And if so, why hadn’t he seen it before now? Why had no one mentioned it?

He stretched out beside her once more. “I hope you have something in the refrigerator for breakfast.” He hadn’t planned on spending the night, after all.

“You don’t really think I’m feeding you, do you?” Horror and anger mingled in her tone.

He didn’t look at her, though he really wanted to see her expression. “I have two good hands. I can feed myself. I’m just hoping you have breakfast food here for me to do that with.”

“Unbelievable.”

He grinned, restraining the laugh that tried to work up from his chest. His Medusa was a lot of fun. A lot more fun than anyone he’d encountered in a long, long time.

She huffed and shifted. “Unbelievable,” she repeated, under her breath this time. She inched away from him on the mattress—cautiously, slowly—then lay still for a long moment.

Andi tugged uselessly at her wrist, but his arm didn’t move from his side. “Hey, Harvester.”

The obnoxious grin slid off his face. “Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name.”

He glared at her, then folded his arms over his chest, dragging hers along and forcing her to half roll toward him again.

She yanked away but he put his other hand over her wrist.

“Go to sleep.”

She shot him a disbelieving glance. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sleeping in handcuffs. Or with all the lights on. And I’m not tired.” That last sounded rather childish, she admitted to herself, but the man had nerve.

He observed her for a long moment, until she wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Then another slow grin started at one corner of his mouth, gradually curving his full lower lip all the way to the opposite corner. “I bet I can fix that.”

“I don’t think so.” She leaned as far away as her trapped arm allowed.

He moved fast, flipping her on top of him before she realized his intent.

Andi blinked, then felt her heart pound faster. The Harvester had muscles on his muscles.

Not the best time to be noticing
that
, perhaps.

She watched him warily as he shifted under her, settled her close, then stretched their cuffed wrists away from their sides. She put her free hand on his shoulder and pushed herself up a little. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you tired.” His other hand slid up her spine to the nape of her neck, where his fingers started massaging the tight muscles.

“Stop it.” She shifted her head to one side, then the other, but his strong fingers continued exactly what they’d been doing. She frowned down at him.

He smiled innocently.

“That doesn’t work for me.” It did feel good, though. Not that she’d tell him.

Kallan’s bright gaze slid down from her eyes to her mouth, almost like an actual touch on her lips.

She swallowed. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late,” he murmured, using his grip at her nape to bring her closer.

Andi sucked in a startled breath when he brushed his mouth along hers. “You’re sick.”

It was his turn to blink. “What?”

“You’re here to kill me, right?”

His brows dipped into a frown.

“You’re not supposed to be…screwing me too.” She blushed.

His frown disappeared. “I’m not trying to screw you. Just kiss you, Andrea.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Well, that makes it much easier,” he said softly, lifting his head to catch her lips.

His kiss wasn’t what she’d expected. Not that she’d been imagining it. Not really. His lips were warm and soft on hers, not demanding or ruthless—although she was certain he possessed both qualities, and probably far worse, knowing his gene pool. His kiss was more an exploration. A gentle caress.

And for a moment, she decided, she could enjoy it. It had been a very long time since a man had kissed her.

Cursed

Angela Addams

Her biggest mistake comes with fangs…and a nose for tracking her down.

The Order of the Wolf, Book 1

Wherever there’s a lying, cheating scumbag who’s broken a woman’s heart, Vengeance Dealer Darcy Wells is there. So what if she isn’t the most skilled witch around? She’s only using one spell, which leaves the hapless male suffering tormenting lust for one woman. Her.

The beautiful part? This curse comes equipped with a blinding agent, allowing her a clean getaway. Unrequited lust, coming right up! As far as Darcy is concerned, it’s justice served. Her next target: Raven Glock, rock band bassist and drop-dead-gorgeous sex god.

When Raven lays eyes on the luscious Darcy, he gives her what he promises all the starry-eyed groupies who toss their panties at him—one unforgettable night in his bed. Sex with Darcy is so epic that he forgets his cardinal rule: to get her out before morning.

At the crack of sunrise, Darcy serves Raven a face full of cursed ash. But something goes horribly wrong…and she finds herself magically tethered to one pissed-off werewolf.

Worse, breaking the spell could cost her everything…maybe even her life.

Warning: Sexually explicit language, tattoos, piercings, and giant…um…feet. Wet panties are a given. Author assumes no responsibility for spontaneous ravishment of significant others, pool boys, or local pizza delivery personnel.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.