Page 43 of The Wolf and his Witch

Aunt Marjory raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Or you die?”

Scarface chuckled. “Madam,it iz we…’ow you Americans say…who ’old all ze cards, no?”

A blur of black fur burst from the shadows of the forest, hurtled toward the porch and slammed into Scarface. It knocked him to the ground. Annabelle jumped back. Another wolf? Her heart lurched into her throat. Gabriel? No, it couldn’t be. The wolf snarled and snapped at Scarface, huge canines finding purchase. Scarface bellowed, and the shotgun went off. Birds screeched and took flight. Annabelle slapped her hand over her mouth, smothering a scream. Then wolf and man went rolling across the clearing, a confusing mass of growling fur and grunting man.

The door banged open again, and two more men appeared on the porch. Too late. The witches were already filling the air with the chanting of spells and the electric charge of magic. In mere moments, the coven had the men bound and on the ground. Where was Dutton?

Annabelle stumbled forward. Down the hill, the wolf and Scarface fought on. The wolf lunged for Scarface’s throat. The Frenchman threw up his arm, blocking the blow, but the wolf latched on, digging his teeth in and shaking his head. Scarface screamed.

Hackles raised and ready to pounce, should Scarface get the upper hand, was the wolf Annabelle pegged as Stefanie. In front, the witches were pounding up the steps of the cabin. Annabelle had to warn Aunt Marjory. Dutton could be lying in wait. Or he could have already fled like the coward he was.

A muscled arm caught her about the throat and reefed her back against a hard chest. A glint of silver flashed near her face, and then the steely point jabbed ever so slightly into her neck. Annabelle stilled.

“Well, well, well. Look what I’ve found. Where do you think you’re going, Annabee?”

Dutton. Her mind raced.

“You think you’re so clever escaping through the chimney. But I still have your blood. And now I have you. Let’s take a little walk in the forest, shall we? Just you and me. And you won’t make a sound, or I will spell your mouth shut.”

He reallywasan idiot. Did he think Stefanie couldn’t track her? Maybe he’d called in backup. He could’ve, should’ve, used magic on her while she was unaware of his presence. But he was so confident he had the upper hand. That he could stop her from reciting any spell. That magic was her only means of defense. Or that a knife at her throat would stop her from fighting any way she could. Did he think, with all the turmoil in their coven, and the prospect she might soon be taking a trip to Medieval Europe, she’d not started taking defense classes?

“I don’t think so, Dutton. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Before the certainty in her voice gave her away, Annabelle grabbed hold of his forearm and cocked her right hip and shoulder up. She ducked beneath his arm, controlling his forearm and the knife, wrenching it down away from her face as her instructor had taught her. She slipped out from beneath him, but kept her body close, and with all the strength she could muster with her injured shoulder, she plunged the knife into his side. It all happened so fast, Dutton didn’t seem to realize she’d stabbedhim.With his own knife. That would teach him to underestimate her.

Dutton struggled, trying to use his height advantage and his gym body to regain the upper hand.

Annabelle growled and plunged the knife in again. “That’s for Gabriel.”

This time Dutton gasped and doubled over.

Annabelle slipped her hand down to his wrist and twisted, as she’d practiced in class. Dutton loosened his grip. The knife was now in her hands. She stepped back. With a bellow, Dutton lunged. Annabelle high-kicked him in the face and then hermom, her stepdad and Isobella were there, chanting a spell. Dutton dropped like a stone.

Chapter Twenty

The knife slipped from Annabelle’s nerveless fingers. A tremor, starting at her bloody hand, worked its way through her body and all the way down to her toes. Her poor shoulder throbbed worse than ever.

Her mom rushed over and enfolded her in a hug. “Annabelle. Thank the Lord you’re okay.”

Her stepdad followed, then Isobella, Annabelle’s shoulder protesting.

“If it wasn’t for that wolf shifter of yours,” said her mother, “we might never have found you.”

Herwolf shifter? Annabelle pulled away from her family. “Gabriel?”

“Yes.”

Her mom pointed at the big black wolf standing over the body of Scarface. Red stained the wolf’s muzzle, and Scarface’s throat was bloody and torn.

Annabelle took a step towards the wolf.Gabriel?He was even bigger than Stefanie. His furry head turned her way, his dark eyes boring into her. A strong musky scent, tinged with something familiar, hung heavy in the air. She could almost taste it. Taste him.

The wolf’s fur rippled, bones popped, and fur receded. His big body contorted as paws turned to hands and feet, and his snout shrunk into a human nose. Then he was upright and standing before her.

“Gabriel. Dutton told me… I thought you were…” A sob tore from her throat, and she stumbled toward him. She halted as she got a clear look at him. “Oh, my God. Look at you.”

Dark purple bruises covered his body from his left shoulder, across his chest and down past his hip. From the crash? Tears filled her eyes and her hand hovered over one of the larger ones.

He took hold of her hand. “I’m okay,bebe.I’m healing.” Then he enfolded her in his arms. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave you, and I meant it.”

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