Read Online Three Days To Dead by Kelly Meding - Free Book Online

beneath the bridge, echoing long after its source had stopped. A hulking shape bounded into the center of the road on all fours, one hundred feet from our position. It came to a graceful stop and arched its back, slowly standing upright, its back legs curved and grotesque. They wobbled with the effort, but the creature maintained its balance. Thin, black fur covered its legs and torso, but its chest of roped muscle was bare, smooth, shiny, and white-skinned. Its similarly colored arms were just as well muscled, withlong claws on its front paws and deep elbow joints perfect for running on four feet. A long, black-tipped nose jutted out above a too-wide mouth. Shimmering yellow eyes blazed with fury and the sheer love of the hunt. Pointed ears turned toward us, listening, covered with the same black hair that extended across its head and down its neck.
    It opened its mouth, baring double rows of razor teeth and pointed canines. I watched the monster flex its jaw, a steel trap ready for the kill. My stomach knotted. I’d never seen anything like it, let alone fought one, and it truly was a hellhound from my nightmares. I saw the earmarks of at least two species in it. It had to be Wyatt’s rumored hybrid.
    In my periphery, Wyatt’s left hand crept across his waist toward the shoulder holster. The hound’s eyes shifted to Wyatt, and it snarled. The hair along its neck bristled.
    “Don’t,” I said, barely moving my lips. If the thing had vampire reflexes to go with its teeth, it could be on him and tearing his throat out before Wyatt could pull the trigger. “When I say so, get in the car.”
    “Evy—”
    “Argue, and he eats you for lunch.”
    “Fine, but I can’t resurrect you twice.”
    “You won’t have to.”
    The butterfly knife would take too long to retrieve and open. The hound shifted its eyes back to me. It drew a lazy tongue across its fangs. The creature’s intense gaze sent a worm of fear down my spine. Adrenaline surged. Every sense felt sharper, keener. It growled again. I tensed and rose up on the balls of my feet.
    “Now!”
    Wyatt pivoted and raced for the car. I bolted three steps to the right, using my body as a barrier between him and the hound, and dropped down into a one-kneed crouch. My fingers found the serrated knife’s handle, wrapped around it, and pulled.
    Falling back to four legs, the hound moved, in a blur of fur and teeth and stink as I raised my left arm in a vain attempt to shield myself. The creature bit and held tight, rending skin and muscle to the bone. Blood spurted into my eyes, coloring the world crimson. An agonized scream died in my throat as the horrific wound went instantly numb. I lunged forward with my right hand and buried the serrated knife in the hound’s soft belly. I pulled upward, slicing its abdomen like a fisherman gutting his catch.
    Gunshots popped. One, two, three, four in a row. The hound screamed, inhuman and guttural. Thick, swampy blood poured down my arms, into my mouth. It tasted like ash. The teeth released my arm. Bladelike claws swiped across my exposed thigh as the hound fell, shredding skin. Its sheer bulk toppled me. I hit the pavement on my back, buried beneath blood and fur and muscle.
    My thigh and arm shrieked, the hound’s blood like acid on the open wounds.
    “Evy?” Wyatt shouted.
    “It’s dead,” I said, screaming to be heard beneath my prison. “Get this fucking thing off me!”
    A lot of tugging from him and pushing from me levered the hound’s corpse—already decaying—enough for me to slide out. I crabbed backward, getting clear of it. No amount of sputtering or deep breathing woulddislodge the nauseating stench of its blood from my nose. Head to toe, I was covered in a slimy mixture of my own blood and its, painting me red and black.
    I spat into the road, desperate to keep from upchucking all over the street. Wyatt squatted in front of me, eyes wide. He wasn’t hurt—small favors.
    He lifted my left arm up by the