Bitten by Treachery (Hadley Werewolves) by Shawntelle Madison Page B

raised. She managed to dodge him and slit the side of his throat. Right at the jugular. A second attacker was far more nimble than the first. A woman, one who had to be no older than Charly, tackled her from the right. They rolled across the lawn with two more werewolves coming for her. Death’s perfume filled Charly nose, a harsh odor of putrid flesh and coppery blood. The woman grasped Charly by the shoulder and extended her teeth to bite her throat.
    “Damn it!” Charly ignored the spark of shearing pain and plunged the blade into her attacker’s gut. The weapon slid into the flesh between the ribs without yielding. She stabbed again and again. The bleeding woman on top of her shrank back and then collapsed a few feet away.
    Another crazed wolf, this time a thin man, took the abandoned woman’s place on top of her. His claws rained scratches along her sides. They came quick, faster than the pricks from bloodletting needles. Damn, those bastards were fast! With her right arm tucked under his chin, she managed to keep his hissing mouth from her head. His eyes darted back and forth, looking at her and then collapsing into madness.
    “C’mon, bitch!” he taunted.
    “C’mon then!” she screeched back. She jerked to the right, bringing her blade down hard into his chest. She came up quickly, but she was only one woman against many. Another werewolf with fur lining his face and hands bit into her leg while another found her thigh. What little strength Charlene had faded with the blood that flowed from her neck. The temptation to use a defensive spell was strong, but she held tight to what she must do. What she had to do: shed enough blood for the final spell.
    “Get off her.” The sharp command from her mother ended the melee. The infected werewolves slinked back, their eyes still hungry and mouths opened wide.
    Charly’s mother leaned in to peer at her face. The woman who had touched her gently as a child wiped away a trail of blood from her cheek. The gesture broke Charly’s heart even more. “I’m giving you a chance to make a choice right now, Charlene,” she murmured. “You can stand with me when I return to the coven. You won’t be a witch anymore, but you can serve them without question, like I do. If you’re my daughter, you will stand with the coven.”
    Charly opened her mouth. A bit of blood at the back of her throat made it difficult to speak. Her feet went numb. Then her legs. Her body fought to heal itself, but she’d spilled too much blood. She could go back—as a servant to the crow coven and live her life protecting everyone from the blood demons, but that wouldn’t fix the wrongs committed here in Hadley.
    Somebody had to end the madness—and now she felt she had enough of her essence to do it. While her mother glowered down at her, Charly used her ring finger to draw three glyphs into her palm. She’d never used them in this combination before.
    “That’s where you and I…differ.” Charly slapped her blood-splattered palm on her mother’s chest.
    One final spell.
    Charly had bled more than enough. There shouldn’t have been hardly any magic left, but with a final drop of blood, what had been bound was now unbound.
    “No more,” Charly whispered. Black spots danced in front of her eyes. She had to hold on just a little longer to finish what she started—one more small detail for her mother.
    The crazed wolves around the house collapsed where they stood. Those who weren’t too far gone might survive. Her mother staggered backwards as if hit and then fell to her knees.
    Charly sucked in a breath, but her lungs wouldn’t fill all the way for some reason. Each inhale was wetter than the next and then she couldn’t feel her fingertips anymore. Cold settled over her, yet she didn’t shiver.
    Wistfully, she managed to murmured. “If you weren’t my mother, I would’ve given you to the Hadley werewolves. Since you are, I’ve taken away what you value the most: Your memory of