Bitten 2 Read Free

change, urging it to flow over me even as it seared a burning path along my synapses. The usual pleasure of shifting barely had a chance to chase away the pain before I stood panting on four paws. Bowing my head I waited as the last few tremors rippled through my body, my nose picking up the hundreds of scents I couldn’t detect when I walked on two legs. I could smell the almost citrus tang of pine and the clean scent of the snow, and, further out, the tantalizing smell of dozens of warm bodied creatures snuffling their way through the undergrowth.
    Powerful legs launched me off the back step in a soaring leap, my feet touching down on the snow for a moment before I was flying again. The ground raced beneath me as I cut a familiar path through the trees, barely feeling the low hanging branches thumping against my flanks. Time lost all meaning in the rush of cold air through my fur, and the powdery snow beneath my paws. The wolf felt the sting of rejection as keenly as I did, but out here she had no need for such human emotions. Out here in the wilds, nothing mattered except the wide expanse of blue sky overhead and the never-ending wilderness.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    HOUSED IN A former Catholic church, Asylum was one of Denver’s hottest spots for those looking for a walk on the dark side. A strip club staffed almost entirely by vampires, as cliché as it was, drew patrons with a deep desire for something dangerous. Within its once hallowed walls, you could get a lap dance from a beautiful woman who had been witness to the horrors of the Black Death or a handsome young man who had slain Nazis on the beaches of Normandy.
    With a cover charge of a hundred bucks, you’d think the place would be begging for business, but once darkness fell the line was sure to stretch halfway around the block on any given night of the week. As much as the more conservative inhabitants of the city lambasted its existence, there was no denying that it was a veritable cash cow, and that was just how its proprietor, Alexei Cordova, liked it.
    It was still early enough when I arrived that the line at the door was only three deep, but it also meant that the Humans for Humanity whackos were still brave enough to form a picket line along the sidewalk. Religious zealots who thought that if you weren’t pure human you were just a moment away from spontaneously combusting in the flames of hell, they were one of the largest—and loudest—anti-supe groups in the country. I’d had a couple run-ins with their members and felt my hackles rise instantly at the sight of their intolerant bullshit. Tonight, a dozen people marched back and forth along the curb shouting their hate-filled diatribe at anyone within range.
    I’m all for freedom of speech and understand that those rights extend to everyone, including nut jobs like the Humans for Humanity crowd. I get that they’re just as entitled to their vile beliefs as anyone else, but having experienced the actions inspired by those opinions firsthand, I’d lost what little tolerance I had for the anti-supes group. While they never publicly encouraged their members to engage in violent protests, there was little punishment meted out to those who got “a little carried away.”
    As far as I was concerned, people could believe whatever they wanted, including that I should burn in hell simply for not being a vanilla human. Once they threatened me and mine, however, all bets were off.
    Approaching the throng of protesters, I hunched my shoulders up around my ears as much to protect them against the cold as to help me muscle my way through the crowd. What I didn’t anticipate was one of the younger members of the group breaking away from his buddies to block my path.
    I’m so not in the mood for this crap.
    Ignoring the man-child, I stepped around him only to find my way barred again when he sidestepped in front of me. Wisps of sandy blonde hair escaped from beneath his blue