Bite Me

  Linsey Hall

  Contents

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  About Linsey

  Copyright

  Untitled

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  1

  Macbeth O’Connell (Mac)

  * * *

  Some days, you’re the pigeon; some days, you’re the statue.

  Today, I was the statue.

  The Haunted Hound Pub was overly packed, and I was the only one on shift. Worse, a complete moron had just dropped his beer bottle on the ground, shattering it and spraying the contents everywhere.

  As I knelt to clean the spill, I was pretty sure he’d done it on purpose.

  Those suspicions were confirmed when he ambled up to inspect my work. His friends watched from the sidelines, eyes bright with anticipation.

  I gritted my teeth and looked up at him, the wet rag clutched in my hand. “Can I help you?”

  “You sure can.” He gave me a cocky grin and pointed at his crotch. “While you’re down there, I’ve got something else that could use some attention.”

  His friends guffawed, and his eyes lit with satisfaction.

  Bastard.

  I smiled broadly and stood. “Based on your attitude, I have a feeling I’d have a real hard time finding it.”

  The smarmy smile faded from his face. “Uh…”

  “That’s what I thought. But nice to meet you, anyway. I’m Macbeth O’Connell.”

  He paled slightly, wobbling drunkenly on shaky legs. “Shit, I didn’t realize you were Mac.” He raised his hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

  I felt my smile take on a razor’s edge. I’d been tending bar at the Haunted Hound long enough to get a rep around magical London, and as usual, it came in handy.

  From behind him, his friends snickered.

  “Well, it looks like your friends set you up. If you don’t want me to break a wine cooler over your head, you’ll promise never to talk to another woman like that ever again.”

  “Of-of course!”

  “Now turn around and walk out.”

  He scurried away, and I thanked my lucky stars. I’d have delivered on my promise, but I didn’t want to clean up another mess. Anyway, it’d be a shame to waste a perfectly good wine cooler. They were highly underrated beverages.

  As the door closed behind him and his friends, I finished cleaning up the spill and returned to the bar to fill more orders. To improve my mood, I changed the music on the bar’s speakers and grinned as ’80s Bonnie Tyler blared. She might be holding out for a hero, but I had no such illusions that one was going to walk through the door.

  In all my years as combo bartender and bouncer, I’d never seen anything close to a hero walk through those doors. At least, not the kind of hero Bonnie was talking about.

  As if on command, the door to the pub opened. My gaze moved toward it out of long habit. If the person who walked in was familiar, I’d let them pass through the pub and into Guild City, London’s secret magical enclave. If they were unfamiliar and shifty-looking, I’d have to keep an eye on them.

  The Haunted Hound served as a portal between regular London and the hidden magical city that humans didn’t realize existed. I was the first line of defense for my beloved city, and I took that job seriously.

  When a regular walked in, I relaxed. At least I knew that Cleo wouldn’t cause problems. She’d have a Guinness at the end of the bar and mind her manners.

  Cleo took her favorite seat and leaned over the wooden expanse to catch my eye.

  “The usual?” I asked.

  “Yeah, thanks.” She frowned. “But first…you know how I’m hooked into the good gossip?”

  I nodded. Cleo was a hairdresser who knew everyone in town.

  “Well,” she continued, “I’ve been hearing about this super terrifying guy. Like, Devil of Darkvale scary—maybe even worse—and he’s looking for someone who sounds a lot like you.”

  “Me?” I scoffed.

  My life was pretty boring. Cool things happened to my friends, but I spent most of my time tending bar here and hanging out on the couch at home. “Nah. Not many people are as scary as the Devil of Darkvale, and there’s no reason he’d look for someone like me.”

  Cleo shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. Probably nothing.”

  “Let me get you that Guinness.” I built her beer, then filled a few more orders. The night continued as usual, with plenty of regulars passing through from London’s Covent Garden neighborhood into Guild City. I kept the music blaring on the speakers despite Cleo’s complaints. It had been a shitty night, and ‘80s power ballads were my one vice. Besides the occasional sneaky wine cooler, of course.

  An hour later, after Cleo had left, I headed over to clean a table near the door. While I was wiping it off, the bell that hung over the entryway chimed, announcing a new patron.

  “Take a seat anywhere,” I called without looking up. There weren’t many seats left, but it was also possible they were just passing through to Guild City.

  Finally finished with the table, I picked up my spray bottle and turned to go. Immediately, I slammed into a wall of a man.

  Gasping, I stumbled backward and looked up.

  Holy fates. The sight of him hit me like a sucker punch to the gut.

  Whoa.

  My heart shot into my throat, and my skin turned hot and cold at once. He towered over me, as solid and immoveable as a mountain. No, not a mountain—a glacier, powerful, icy cold, and capable of carving the world around him to fit his desires. If he desired it, you’d be dead before you realized.

  I’d never seen a man like him before, impossibly handsome and yet utterly terrifying. His face had the divine perfection of an otherworldly god—black hair, sharp cheekbones, a blade-like jaw, and full lips. But it was his eyes that captured me…such a brilliant blue that they were impossible to look away from.

  But I wished I could. He stared at me with a burning hatred that set my soul alight in the worst fashion. His predator’s grace made me feel like prey as he towered over me, his broad shoulders blocking my view of the door.

  The silence that tightened the air between us could have only lasted a second, but it felt like a millennium. Danger rolled out from him in waves, along with a sense of familiarity that tugged at my mind.

  What the hell?

  I’d never seen this guy before in my life. I’d certainly remember if I had. A person didn’t forget a man like him, especially when he looked at you like he wanted to tear your head off. His eyes traced over my face. They flickered with flame and ice, and a shiver ran down my spine.

  Then his gaze moved to my neck, and his eyes lit with heat.

  I swallowed hard, feeling my throat move. His gaze flared, and his full lips parted slightly, revealing white teeth—two of which were slightly pointed.

  Vampire.

  Oh, fates.

  “Come with me.” His voice vibrated with power, lighting up my soul and tugging at my subconscious.

  I felt the strangest desire to obey and nearly stepped forward. Then I frowned.

  Hell, no.

  “No, thanks.” I stepped back, desperate to get away. He was trying to compel me. The strongest vampires had that ability, and I shouldn’t be able to fight the compulsion. Somehow, though, I was.

  He blinked, surprise flashing in his eyes, and gave me a considering look. Without a word, he turned and took a seat along the wall.

  Feeling like a coward, I scuttled back to the bar. What the hell was my problem? Normally, I’d demand to know what his problem was. I ruled my bar with an iron fist when I was on shift, keeping it running smoothly even when shit hit the fan.

  But something about him froze my tongue in my mouth.

  Danger.

  I could all but smell it on the air around him, and I needed to keep my distance.

  I also needed to get my shit together, because freaking out was so not me.

  Behind the bar, I tried to catch up on orders as I stole glances at him. He sprawled in the chair against the wall like he owned the place, his grace and power on display for the world to see. Other patrons avoided him, shooting wary looks his way.

  But he never came over to order a drink.

  Okay, that was weird.

  I turned away to build another pint of Guinness, but every second was overlaid by the feeling of the man’s gaze burning into my back. It made my heart race and skin heat.

  I reached up to tug on the long ponytail that hung over my shoulder. It was a bad habit, a nervous tic that had made me chop all my hair off a few years ago. But I’d become sick of the short ’do and had grown it out recently. A bit of magic had helped, and it was down to my sh oulder blades, the perfect length for anxiety tugging.

  Maybe I’d have to chop it off again.

  The next hour passed without incident, except for the man who sat against the wall, his eyes riveted to me. An aura of danger vibrated around him so strongly that the tables on either side of him stayed empty all night. Some people even left the bar, their drinks half drunk and their steps hurried as they skirted around him. Every minute that passed wound me tighter and tighter.

  What the hell was he?

  He couldn’t be just a vampire. He was more than that. Something special.

  But I had no idea what else he was. It wasn’t always possible to identify other supernaturals by sight. For example, no one could tell that I was a seer with extremely mediocre powers.

  I found myself inching toward the stash of potion bombs that my friend Eve had made for me. I kept them under the bar, a magical version of the bartender’s bat. I was good with my fists, but this guy would require more than a punch if he acted on the venom in his stare.

  Finally, my shift was nearly over, and he was the only one left in the place. The Haunted Hound would stay open so that patrons could continue to pass through to Guild City, but since it was after midnight, it would likely remain quiet until morning.

  I looked at the clock, wanting Quinn to get here so that I could get the hell out and leave him to deal with the sexy probable-murderer in the corner. My shifter friend could handle it. I could, too—and normally, I’d want to—but something about this guy told me to get the hell away.

  But Quinn still hadn’t arrived by the time the last patron cleared out, leaving only me and the mysterious newcomer.

  Immediately, he stood.

  My heart leapt into my throat. As he strolled toward me with the deadly grace of a panther, I inched toward the bowl of potion bombs beneath the counter.

  “I wouldn’t.” His voice was smooth as whiskey and filled with such quiet confidence that it was clear he controlled the world around him. No one disobeyed him.

  Well, he hadn’t met me yet.

  “Wouldn’t what?” I cocked an eyebrow, going for a bravado I didn’t quite feel. If life had taught me one thing, it was that cockiness could get you a long way.

  “Reach for whatever weapon you’ve got under there.”

  “I don’t know, I’m pretty fast.” But apparently, I’d also have to be clever. Good thing I was. “Why have you been sitting in the corner like a creeper all night?”

  His brilliant blue eyes flicked over me, but I read no offense there—probably because he seemed to think I was a bug he could crush under his shoe. Disdain was written all over his face.

  It raised my hackles, making me want to punch him in the nose and tug anxiously at my hair, all at the same time. Instead, I demanded, “Why did you spend the entire night staring at me?”

  He stepped up to the bar, close enough that his magic slammed into me. It took everything I had not to gasp and move backward.

  I’d never felt anyone as powerful as he was.

  Every magical being was identifiable by the taste, sound, smell, feel, or look of our magic. Stronger supernaturals had signatures that corresponded to all five of the senses, which sure as hell wasn’t me.

  But this guy…

  Yeah, he had all five. He’d been keeping them hidden before, but his magic now crashed over me as a wave, carrying with it the roaring sound of the ocean on a rocky shore and the whip of cold wind. The taste of the finest whiskey rolled over my tongue, and when I inhaled, I got the scent of the most divine spices. All good signatures, until I got to the sound—the screams of the damned. They made my skin chill and my heart race.

  But the worst part was his aura, black as night and shot through with streaks of red that reminded me of blood. Only the most powerful supernaturals had auras, and I’d never seen one like his.

  Hell, I’d never felt one that was such a combination of good and evil.

  “Well?” I demanded, barely managing to keep my voice from shaking. “What do you want with me?”

  “You would attempt to play stupid?” he asked. “You are many things, MacKenna Carraday, but stupid is not one of them. Evil, yes. Devious, certainly. But not stupid.”

  “I’m not MacKenna Carraday, pal.”

  “Oh, you most certainly are.” He leaned on the bar, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a devilish smirk. “I’d recognize you anywhere.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. It’s just a case of mistaken identity. I’m Macbeth O’Connell. Mac to my friends, which you aren’t.”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  “Oh, bite me. ”

  “I’d be delighted.” One side of his top lip pulled up into the first smile I’d seen on him, revealing a fang.

  Vampires didn’t tend to bite without permission, but it was clear that this one was used to taking what he wanted, when he wanted it, and to hell with the consequences.

  I swallowed hard and resisted the urge to run.

  “Well, MacKenna? What do you have to say for your actions?”

  “Not mine, pal. I look like a lot of people.” Long blonde hair that I’d recently grown out, brown eyes, medium height. Pretty enough if I tried, with a sense of style that ran toward lumberjack. Occasionally, I went all out with something nice, but my jeans and flannel shirt over a tank top were more common. “Seriously, you have the wrong woman.”

  He leaned back and looked me up and down. “You’re hiding your signature, but it’s got the scent of a misty morning by the river. I would know that scent anywhere.”

  Shock flashed through me. “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’re MacKenna Carraday, and you put me in the ground five years ago.”

  Shit, in the ground? “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Liar. You buried me alive five years ago today, leaving me to rot in a tomb made of stone.”

  A laugh escaped me, but it died as soon as I saw how serious he was. My skin chilled.

  Holy fates, he believed this. Like, really believed it.

  “I didn’t do that. Five years ago, I lived in Newcastle and worked at the Broad Reach Pub. I certainly wasn’t wherever you came from, burying you alive.”

  “You can lie all you want, but it happened. And I’m here to return the favor.”

  “Return the favor?” Fear rocketed through me, so fierce that it took my breath.

  He stepped closer, menace in every hint of movement.

  I wasn’t the woman he thought I was, but it was clear as day that he believed otherwise. And he had the power to act on it.

  This bastard was going to kill me.

  He was close enough that I could reach him, and I needed the element of surprise with someone as powerful as him. Quick as a snake, I lashed out and grabbed his upper arm.

  His reflexes were too fast, though. Before I could disorient him with my magic, he’d grabbed me by the collar and hauled me toward the bar. The expanse of wood separated us, but we were so close that I could see the silver flecks in his irises.

  “You dare to attack me?” he murmured, sending a shiver of heat down my spine. “Not wise.”

  “Never been known for my wisdom.” I gripped his shoulder and fed a blast of my magic into him. His gaze went fuzzy as my power temporarily disoriented him, and I yanked myself away, dropping back behind the bar.

  The maneuver took a lot of my magic, but it was enough to buy me the few seconds I needed to grab one of the potion bombs beneath the counter. I hurled it at him, savagely satisfied as it crashed against his chest in a splash of blue and green.

  Stunner bomb. A powerful one.

  Shock flashed on his face before he collapsed backward, unconscious.

  “Didn’t expect that, did you?” I dusted off my hands. My ability to disorient with a touch was a rare one, and it came in damned handy sometimes.

  “Thank you, Eve,” I muttered. It’d been a long time since I’d had to use her stash, but thank fates for it.

 

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