Read Online Bloodrunner Dragon (Harper's Mountains Book 1) by T. S. Joyce - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: T. S. Joyce
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a fire from where Harper had burned her last night. Her gray eyes turned cold and dead in the moment before she opened her mouth, exposing razor sharp fangs, and sank her teeth into Harper’s neck.
Harper clawed at the vampire’s wrists to try and loosen her grip and thrashed as the outer edges of her vision collapsed inward. She scrabbled and kicked against the truck behind her, and then in desperation, she socked Arabella with a balled fist over and over. It was like punching a stony cliff face. The crack of Harper’s bones was loud as pain seared up her arm.
There was chaos behind Arabella now. Fighting. Bats. Thick purple smoke. Ryder. Weston. Aaron was Changed into his grizzly bear and laying waste to everyone in his way. Not fast enough. Help me!
“Harper!” Weston screamed, his veins bulging in his neck as he fought the smoke and tried to reach her.
It wasn’t enough. Not enough time. Not fair. Frost crept through her veins as Arabella drained her. Please Dragon. Where are you?
Like an apparition, Wyatt appeared through the smoke, his eyes white as snow and promising death, his teeth bared.
Beside him, the bats solidified into a vampire, but Wyatt grabbed him by the throat before he was solid and threw him with mesmerizing force.
“Wyatt!” someone yelled. Kane?
Like a spear, a pool stick came straight for Harper’s face, but Wyatt caught it without looking, and in one smooth, blurred motion, he cracked it across his knee and rammed one jagged end into Arabella’s back.
Arabella jerked backward, and her grip around Harper’s throat loosened. Her crimson lips formed a silent screech of pain and shock as fire blazed up her body. And in an explosion of sparks, the Queen of the Asheville Coven collapsed in a pile of pungent ashes.
Harper fell forward, but Wyatt was there, holding her, telling her, “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
Harper dragged air into her crushed windpipe. The adrenaline in her system had burned off most of the alcohol, and she could see everything so clearly now. The splintered, scorched pool stick in the middle of the ashes. The bats and smoke fleeing the parking lot and blending in with the darkness beyond. Aaron’s blond grizzly pacing between a row of cars, his eyes wild and his neck torn open. Weston and Ryder, chests heaving, staring at her like she was already dead.
Kane was standing near the bar in the thinning smoke, but as she tried to thank him for helping her, he spat on the gravel and disappeared inside. A sob escaped her as she clutched to Wyatt’s sweater and sucked sweet air.
Her dragon was here now, too big, violent, wanting more death because she was scared. Because she hadn’t been able to wake up in time. Stupid tequila. Stupid. “I didn’t know,” Harper chanted over and over just for something to say. Just to hear her own voice and convince herself she was still alive.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Wyatt said in a gravelly voice. But he had eased back enough to look at her throat with an expression that said he wanted more death as recompense, too.
“Wes,” Wyatt said low. “Her hand.”
“Yeah,” Weston said, lifting her ruined fingers gingerly. It hurt so bad, like someone had shoved her arm into a fire.
His eyes were the pitch black of his raven’s when he lifted them to Harper’s. “This’ll hurt.”
“Do it,” she gritted out. Waiting and mentally preparing wouldn’t work. It would only make it worse. Shifter healing was fast. Too fast sometimes for broken pieces.
Wyatt pushed his weight against her, pinning her to the side of his dented truck. And just as she let out a scream at the pain of Weston resetting her bones, Wyatt kissed her, hard.
It wasn’t the sweet kisses from when they were kids, or the passionate ones they learned about when they were old enough for intimacy. This one was fear and anger and loss all wrapped up into one breathtaking instant. Weston was done, and tears of pain streamed out the corners
Harper clawed at the vampire’s wrists to try and loosen her grip and thrashed as the outer edges of her vision collapsed inward. She scrabbled and kicked against the truck behind her, and then in desperation, she socked Arabella with a balled fist over and over. It was like punching a stony cliff face. The crack of Harper’s bones was loud as pain seared up her arm.
There was chaos behind Arabella now. Fighting. Bats. Thick purple smoke. Ryder. Weston. Aaron was Changed into his grizzly bear and laying waste to everyone in his way. Not fast enough. Help me!
“Harper!” Weston screamed, his veins bulging in his neck as he fought the smoke and tried to reach her.
It wasn’t enough. Not enough time. Not fair. Frost crept through her veins as Arabella drained her. Please Dragon. Where are you?
Like an apparition, Wyatt appeared through the smoke, his eyes white as snow and promising death, his teeth bared.
Beside him, the bats solidified into a vampire, but Wyatt grabbed him by the throat before he was solid and threw him with mesmerizing force.
“Wyatt!” someone yelled. Kane?
Like a spear, a pool stick came straight for Harper’s face, but Wyatt caught it without looking, and in one smooth, blurred motion, he cracked it across his knee and rammed one jagged end into Arabella’s back.
Arabella jerked backward, and her grip around Harper’s throat loosened. Her crimson lips formed a silent screech of pain and shock as fire blazed up her body. And in an explosion of sparks, the Queen of the Asheville Coven collapsed in a pile of pungent ashes.
Harper fell forward, but Wyatt was there, holding her, telling her, “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
Harper dragged air into her crushed windpipe. The adrenaline in her system had burned off most of the alcohol, and she could see everything so clearly now. The splintered, scorched pool stick in the middle of the ashes. The bats and smoke fleeing the parking lot and blending in with the darkness beyond. Aaron’s blond grizzly pacing between a row of cars, his eyes wild and his neck torn open. Weston and Ryder, chests heaving, staring at her like she was already dead.
Kane was standing near the bar in the thinning smoke, but as she tried to thank him for helping her, he spat on the gravel and disappeared inside. A sob escaped her as she clutched to Wyatt’s sweater and sucked sweet air.
Her dragon was here now, too big, violent, wanting more death because she was scared. Because she hadn’t been able to wake up in time. Stupid tequila. Stupid. “I didn’t know,” Harper chanted over and over just for something to say. Just to hear her own voice and convince herself she was still alive.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Wyatt said in a gravelly voice. But he had eased back enough to look at her throat with an expression that said he wanted more death as recompense, too.
“Wes,” Wyatt said low. “Her hand.”
“Yeah,” Weston said, lifting her ruined fingers gingerly. It hurt so bad, like someone had shoved her arm into a fire.
His eyes were the pitch black of his raven’s when he lifted them to Harper’s. “This’ll hurt.”
“Do it,” she gritted out. Waiting and mentally preparing wouldn’t work. It would only make it worse. Shifter healing was fast. Too fast sometimes for broken pieces.
Wyatt pushed his weight against her, pinning her to the side of his dented truck. And just as she let out a scream at the pain of Weston resetting her bones, Wyatt kissed her, hard.
It wasn’t the sweet kisses from when they were kids, or the passionate ones they learned about when they were old enough for intimacy. This one was fear and anger and loss all wrapped up into one breathtaking instant. Weston was done, and tears of pain streamed out the corners
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