Python's Embrace (Bitten Point Book 3) (2 page)

BOOK: Python's Embrace (Bitten Point Book 3)
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Chapter 2

W
hat to make
of the woman who’d just crawled from the bayou wearing only a bra and panties? In all his years, this was the first time such a thing had happened, at least to Constantine.

As he cradled Princess against his body, he couldn’t help but catalogue the enigma standing before him.

What a tiny thing, not even close to his chin, and slim too. A layer of muck covered her. He couldn’t smell if she was human or shifter, but by the way she moved, he would have wagered shifter—an animal with grace, given her fluid movements.

Questions brimmed on his lips, the foremost being,
who are you
? Yet, he held off. He sensed a certain skittish quality about her. It wouldn’t take much to send her fleeing.

She can’t run if we hug her. Squeeze her. Hold her tight.

His inner snake only ever had one solution for everything.

Perhaps instead of crushing her to death, we should try cleaning her up and getting some answers.

Because he’d wager her story had a lot to do with what he, his brother, and friends had been investigating over the past while.

Something hunted the people of Bitten Point. Something screwed with them, and it was past time they screwed back.

Or screwed her.

Bad snake, and he didn’t mean his shifter one. A certain part of him showed a little too much interest in the mud-coated woman in front of him. How perverse to lust after a swamp creature, especially one who’d stepped in poop and possessed a very dirty mouth.

Very dirty…

He interrupted her litany of curses. “Listen, my place isn’t far from here. I’ve got an outdoor shower if you’d like to sluice off.”

The mud-spattered face peeked at him with suspicion. “I am not getting naked for your entertainment.”

“Keep your clothes on then while you shower, see if I care, but you might find them uncomfortable, and it will be harder to rinse your, um, girly bits.” Not usually a shy man, Constantine balked at mentioning her more feminine parts, especially since he found himself more interested in them than was normal.

“Don’t you worry about my girly bits. As for stripping, exactly what am I supposed to wear after my shower? And if you say you, I will probably hurt you.”

The threat drew a chuckle from him. A tiny lady, but feisty. He liked that. “I’ve got some spare clothes you can borrow so you don’t have to parade around in your undergarments or the buff.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hiding her petite assets. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Lady, I don’t know what kinds of guys you associate with, but I can assure you I have no interest in ogling or molesting someone barely bigger than my dog. I prefer my ladies with more meat.”

The words were meant as reassuring, yet her eyes flashed. “There is nothing wrong with being petite and fine-boned.”

“It is if you want something to chew on.” Constantine heard her suck in a breath and could have groaned.
I did not just say that.
But he had. Odd, because he wasn’t usually one to talk crude to the ladies.

Given arguing in the swamp wouldn’t get them anywhere, he turned on his heel. Despite the darkness, he didn’t have any problems finding his way. He’d lived by the bayou for as long as he could remember. And he could remember a long time. Just about the only thing in his life he didn’t recall was his daddy. That cold-hearted snake had left as soon as Constantine’s mother announced her pregnancy, and the asshole had never come back.

But as his mommy said in his father’s defense, it was in a snake’s nature to leave once he’d fertilized a female.

Constantine’s retort when he got old enough to reply, “Real men don’t run from their responsibilities.”

Words he meant, and yet, the fear he’d turn out like his father made him shy from relationships.
I don’t want to be my father.
Already a python shifter by nature, he didn’t want to add “lowdown bastard who ditched those who needed him” to that description.

As he strode from the edge of the marsh, dog tucked under his arm, he didn’t bother to peek and see if the woman followed. Princess watched for him. Her little head turned to spy behind, her body tense in his grip.

It took only a few minutes of walking before the porch light appeared, a beacon in the darkness that drew all manners of flying bugs. This close to the Everglades, they saw their fair share of insects, some with enough legs and pinching mandibles to worry him. Princess had delicate skin.

A few more strides and the house he shared with his mother came into view. By most standards, it wasn’t much. A compact, three-bedroom bungalow on wooden stilts. Heavy rains sometimes made the house appear as if it floated like an isle.

It chagrined him to realize he wondered what the woman thought of his home.
I’m not ashamed of where I come from.
Not ashamed, and yet, he kept pouring money into renovation projects. He also poured a lot of sweat and curse words.

The result? The house looked a lot more presentable than it used to. It had better seeing as how Constantine had spent plenty of his paychecks since he’d started working to improve the place. New siding, new windows, along with a roof he and Daryl, his older brother’s best friend, had replaced themselves.

On the inside, he’d gutted the kitchen and put in new cabinets for his mom. Nothing fancy. He’d grabbed those prebuilt white ones on a clearance at the big box hardware store the next town over. But his mom loved it. Just like she loved the laminate flooring he’d installed throughout.

It might not seem like much, but it was home.
My home. Take it or leave it.

Again, why he gave a shit, he couldn’t have said. Besides, it wasn’t as if she would be staying. He’d get her cleaned up and on her way as quickly as he could.

No leaving. Ourssssss.

Not ours and, hell yeah, she was leaving. Constantine didn’t run a home for muddy waifs. Even feisty ones that intrigued him.

He veered from the house as he hit the yard and headed to the outdoor shower unit. It didn’t have much in the way of privacy, consisting of a single pole sticking up from the ground embedded in a concrete slab. The green garden hose, which he’d buried underground from the house to the outdoor unit, was clamped to the post and ended in a rusted showerhead at the top.

“There’s the shower if you want to use it. I’ll go grab you a towel. Ma keeps a pile of them stacked by the back door.” Because, sometimes, Constantine liked to play in the mud, too.

The woman didn’t reply. As a matter of fact, she’d not said a word at all. Whatever. He didn’t pause to see if she turned on the water. Didn’t care either if she stalked off. Less trouble for him if she did.

A squeak of a handle getting cranked and the sound of rushing water let him know she’d stayed, but for how long?

The woman had yet to explain why she’d crawled out of the swamp, and while she didn’t seem keen on his presence, she’d not taken off or demanded a phone.

Who was she?

Ourssss.

Despite his inner reptile’s certainty, he was sure they had never met her before. Then again, given the coating of muck on her skin, she could have been his next-door neighbor for all he knew. Except old Kenny next door was about two hundred pounds heavier and a guy.

Still tucked under his arm, Princess wiggled, and he put her down on the ground beside him. His faithful companion stuck to his heels as he made his way to the mudroom at the back of the house he shared with his mom. And, no, he wasn’t a mama’s boy. Much.

However, he saw no reason to move out when his mother owned a perfectly sized house for them to share. He helped out with the bills and the man’s work that needed doing while she cooked and washed his clothes. But it should be noted that he did do the dishes.

Within the mudroom, think plywood box on concrete patio stones, which basically acted as a shelter for the clothes washer and dryer, he snagged a clean towel with some vivid pattern. His ma long ago had given up on white linens. He and his brother were too dirty for it.

While in the mudroom, he also pulled open the dryer and scrounged out a long T-shirt, but he didn’t bother with pants. He doubted she’d fit in his or his mother’s. The woman he found possessed a waist so tiny he was sure both his hands could span it with room left over.

Someone needs to feed her.

I’ve got something to feed her.

Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him tonight? Ever since the fiasco in the tunnels a day or so ago, he’d found himself on edge. Jumping at shadows. Turning to check out every single noise. However, being vigilant didn’t explain his odd interest in the muddy waif. Except she was probably not so muddy now.

I wonder what she looks like.

As he exited the mudroom, his gaze veered her way, and he noted she stood to the side of the outdoor shower, hand outstretched under the gushing torrent.

“It usually works better if you get under the spray,” he remarked as he approached.

“It’s cold.”

“Well, duh. It’s an outdoor shower. You didn’t really expect us to pipe hot water out here.”

The dirty look she tossed him from under a wet hank of hair almost made him smile.

“Hot water would have been nice.”

“So would not tossing mud at people you meet for no reason. But I guess we both can’t get what we want.”

Her lips twitched. “Touché. Hypothermia it is then.”

“Once you get the mud off you, then we can get you into some warm stuff.”

“What? Aren’t you going to offer to warm me up yourself?” An impish tilt of her lips showed pearly white teeth. Teeth that he’d love to have nip him.

No, I don’t.
“I already told you, lady. You’re not my type.” Now someone tell that to his libido, which kept making sly remarks in his head.

“Good to know. Then I guess there’s no need to tell you to turn your back while I strip off these rags.”

The bra was first to go, and before he could avert his gaze, Constantine caught a glimpse of small peaches, tipped with hard buds, barely a mouthful. Yet so very tempting…

He quickly turned his head and heard her soft chuckle. “Prude.”

“Most women would call it respect.”

She snorted. “Now there’s a word I don’t hear often. Most men seem to think the fact I have a hole between my legs makes me fair game.”

“Then I feel sorry for you because, in my world, women are to be cherished and protected.”

“Must be nice.”

Was it him, or did her words hold a wistful note? He didn’t dare turn around to see, but he wanted to. Wanted to see the water cascading down her body, moisture pearling on the tips of her breasts.

Get a grip.
He hung his head and closed his eyes. He clenched his fists, too, as he breathed deeply, wondering at the strange effect she had on him.

Boring thoughts, such as the grass he needed to mow, helped him to somewhat resist her allure. The chatter of her teeth as she sluiced off under the spray also aided to bring him under control.

As soon as the water shut off, he held out the towel that dangled from his fist, still not daring to turn around.

She snagged it from him. “That was f-fucking cold,” she stuttered.

I’ll warm you up.
He thought it, but said, “Are you decent?”

An unladylike sound emerged from her. “Not according to most of the people who know me.”

“I meant are you wearing the towel?”

“Yeah, why?”

Pivoting on his heel, Constantine forgot what he meant to say as he saw her face. A face he recognized.

“Holy shit. You’re Aria. The girl we’ve been looking for.” The woman they’d combed the town for only to hit dead ends, literally. The body count kept growing.

The irony of her appearing practically at his doorstep would have made him laugh, except his snake chose that moment to hiss.

Finally, we have found the woman we’ve been waiting for.

Like hell.

Chapter 3

D
amn and double damn
. How did this guy recognize her?

“No, I’m not,” she hastily replied. The last thing she needed was for word to get around that she’d escaped and surfaced. The crooked gang working in the underground lab at Bittech would come after her for sure if they found out. Better to let them think she’d died in the swamp.

As a matter of fact, she shouldn’t let anyone know her whereabouts until she’d spoken to her boss and had gotten her ass to the safe house he’d told her to use in case things got hairy—or in this case, leathery.

The big guy snorted in reply to her rebuttal. “Of course it’s you. I’m not a fucking idiot. Cynthia showed us enough pictures of you for me to know what you look like, especially now that your face is clean.”

“You know Cynthia?”

“Damned straight I do. She hooked up with Daryl as soon as she came to town, and we’ve all been looking for you.”

A moue twisted her lips. “Cynthia was supposed to go home and forget about looking for me.” But she should have known her best friend wouldn’t accept her disappearance.

“Don’t be giving her shit because she cared.”

A sigh left her. “I am not giving her hell, but her caring and coming to look for me complicated things. And how do you know Thea anyhow? Who are you?”

“Constantine Xavier Boudreaux.”

She blinked. “Wow, that’s a mouthful.” Only too late did she realize how that sounded, and judging by the grin stretching his lips, so did he.

“More than a mouthful, and handful.”

She couldn’t help a roll of her eyes. “And there you go proving my point men only have one thought in their little brains.”

“I thought we’d just ascertained mine was big.” His smile widened.

A piercing shriek broke the staring match between them.

Immediately, she tensed and turned to look at the sky. “We need to get to cover.”

“It’s just some swamp bird looking for some dinner,” the big man said as he leaned down to scoop his dog off the ground.

“I know. That’s the problem. I think I might be his dinner.” She muttered the last part, but he still heard.

“Don’t worry. Whatever that is won’t dare mess with us.”

“Shows how little you know. And if you’re not worried, then why are you picking up your dog?”

“Because she likes to be cuddled.” He said it so seriously.

And she almost retorted,
I’d like to be cuddled, too.
Except she didn’t. Usually, that was.

Aria didn’t like people touching her, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have this big guy put his hands on her.

Madness. Maybe a result of her time spent as a prisoner.
Am I going mad?

Before she lost her mind, she needed to talk to her boss. “I need a phone.” And a place out of the open. Despite Constantine’s assurance that nothing would attack, he didn’t know what she did.

The hunters weren’t ordinary birds of prey, and while super-sized, Constantine wouldn’t prove a match for those psycho beasts.

“Why don’t you put this on first?” He thrust out a hand in which he gripped dark fabric. “I brought you a shirt.”

“Is it a special shirt that I can use to dial someone’s number?” was her sarcastic reply. She did, however, snatch it from him and tugged it over her head. Once it covered her, a yank on the towel pulled the damp cotton away from her body. “What should I do with this?” She waggled the wet towel.

“You can drop it in the laundry room.”

“Which is where?” she asked.

“This way.” Without any warning, he bent and forced her onto a wide shoulder before standing again.

Stung with shock, it took her a moment of dangling down his back before she yelled, “Put me down. What do you think you’re doing?” Her shock at his actions explained her racing heart, but what she didn’t understand was her eagle’s lack of reaction. Where was the outrage? The anger?

A male should show his dominance.

Before she could digest that foreign concept, Constantine explained his illogic. “I am carrying you so your feet don’t get muddy. And before you freak out some more, I might add I am doing the same thing with Princess.”

“And this is the only way you thought to carry me?” she managed to say, not without a lot of incredulity.

“I only have one hand, lady. What else did you expect?”

“You could have put your dog down and carried me in both your arms.”

A snort shook his frame. “Yeah, no. I’m not about to have my hands full and my dog vulnerable to whatever is in the sky.”

As if to add weight to his argument, another screech pierced the night, closer this time. Aria couldn’t help but shiver. While he might imagine the normal variety of hunter, she knew better. They needed to get out of the open.

She held her tongue, lest he change his mind about letting her use the phone. Another part of her, though, wondered at her blind trust of this behemoth.

This close, she could truly scent his skin. She’d spent enough time around shifters lately to realize he was a reptile of some kind. Kind being the key word.

“What are you?” she blurted out.

He didn’t hesitate. “A snake. Python to be exact.”

“I’ve never seen a snake shifter before.”

“That’s on account we’re pretty rare. I got the gene from my dad. And you’re one to talk about rare, seeing as how eagle shifters are just about extinct last I heard.”

“How do you know what I am? I didn’t realize snakes had such a good sense of smell.” She answered her own question immediately. “Cynthia.” Was there anything her best friend hadn’t divulged?

Mental note to self: buy duct tape for her blabber- mouthed bestie.

“Were both your parents eagles?” he asked. A valid question since the same types of breeds had an easier time procreating.

“I don’t know. I never knew them.” Orphaned at a young age, Aria didn’t just have no memories of her parents. She didn’t have pictures or even names either. She knew nothing at all about who and what she was.

Coming into her shifter heritage as a teen had proved terrifying. The first burst of pain when she’d morphed for the first time sent her into a blind panic. It was a wonder she’d survived, given she crashed out of her bedroom window and tumbled to the ground, breaking an arm. She got in trouble for that, her foster parents not taking kindly to what they thought was a runaway attempt.

In a sense, they were right. She wanted to run…away from herself. For a few years, she thought herself a freak, a monster, until she met Thea.

Actually, I crashed into her.
She’d slammed Thea into a tree and exclaimed, “You smell different. You’re like me. Except more doggyish.”

Not the most auspicious of intros, and yet, from that moment, they became the best of friends.

It helped Aria to realize she wasn’t alone. Thea was just like her, well, not exactly like, given Thea morphed into a wolf, but her friend knew about shifting. With her guidance and the lessons learned from Thea’s parents, Aria came to understand what she was. She’d just never discovered who she was.

As they entered the house, another cry pierced the night, closer this time. Constantine shut the back door, shielding her from the eyes of the hunter. Or was that hunters? Merrill and his gang had more than one type of creature at their disposal. Would he dare unleash them all, though, in the hopes they’d bring her in—dead or alive?

Constantine crouched down, but if she thought he meant to put her down, she was mistaken. Only the dog got that privilege.

It seemed Princess didn’t like her loss of status.

Yip
.

“Sorry, Princess. Daddy’s got to get Aria warm before she falls apart from shivering.”

“I w-won’t break.” It might have sounded more convincing if she’d managed to say it without chattering teeth.

“No, but you might get sick. We need to get you warm.”

How about you just wrap me in those big arms of yours?
He certainly felt awfully warm for a man who was supposedly cold-blooded.

She almost giggled. Then she frowned. What was wrong with her? Aria didn’t cuddle. Nor did she want a man to hold her or warm her.

Dizziness assailed her as Constantine flipped her off his shoulder to cradle her in his arms.
Now who’s the princess?
She bit her tongue before she could taunt the dog out loud.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Bed with the big hunk?

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she mumbled, barely managing coherence her shaking got so severe.

“Would you stop it already with assuming I’m going to molest you? I have no interest in you. Other than making sure you don’t get sick and die on me.”

“I don’t get sick.” She truly didn’t. Shifters had an amazing ability to heal from things.

“You might not get sick from normal things, but you spent quite a bit of time, from the looks of you, in the bayou. There are things out there that will make even the toughest of us ill. Swamp fever isn’t something to scoff at.”

“I don’t have a fever. I’m cold.” So cold, right down to the marrow of her thin bones.

“Give me a second and we’ll work on that.” He dropped her onto a bed with a mattress so hard she didn’t make a dent.

“I need a blanket.” Forget the phone. Right now, she just wanted to get this numbness out of her limbs.

He yanked a cover over her, a thick one. Still, she trembled.

“I’m cold,” she complained in a plaintive voice she didn’t recognize.

“I should call a doctor.”

At the mention, her eyes opened wide and she uttered a frantic, “No. Don’t call anyone. No one can know I’m here.”

“What’s going on, Aria? Who are you running from?”

“The monsters.” She giggled.

“What monsters? What are you talking about?”

“Can’t say. It’s a secret. Shhh.” She muttered the words as her eyes closed. “So cold.” The shivering wouldn’t stop to the point her bones ached.

A heavy sigh filled the silence before the mattress beside her dipped.

In a flash, she popped open her eyes and regarded Constantine, who lay facing her.

“What are you doing?”

“Warming you up. Roll over.”

“But—”

“Must you constantly argue? Roll over so I can warm you and leave.”

The tough side she’d cultivated as a veneer against the world wanted to protest his help, even if she needed it. She ignored that voice and obeyed Constantine’s deep, rumbled command instead. She tilted onto her side facing away from him.

An arm came around her and yanked her close, tucking her against the massive length of him. The intimacy of the position had her sucking in a breath. Tucked so tightly against him, she could feel the hardness of his frame, but even better, the heat.

He radiated delicious warmth. A soft sigh exhaled from her as her shivering body soaked it in.

A large hand splayed across her belly, spreading warmth of a different kind through her. Her bottom wiggled, inching closer to him. As she felt a certain distinctive hardness, she froze.

“Um, what happened to my not being your type?” she asked as the evidence of a massive erection pressed against her backside.

“You’re still not my type, but I am a normal man and you are a woman. Not much I can do to change that. But don’t worry. I’m not planning to do anything about it. I am tired, so if you don’t mind, can you stop arguing for one minute and go to sleep?”

Not argue? But it was what she did best.

Except, in this instance, she didn’t really want to talk him into moving away. In that moment, Aria enjoyed a warmth and peace—
I feel safe—
she’d never enjoyed.

Exhausted from her escape, and safe within the cocoon of his body, Aria fell into a restless slumber.

BOOK: Python's Embrace (Bitten Point Book 3)
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