Blood Courtesan Hooked

  Table of Contents

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  BLOOD COURTESAN: HOOKED

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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  ABOUT SELENA KITT

  SELENA KITT’S OTHER WORKS

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  A Twisted Bard's Tale

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  MOXIE

  By Selena Kitt

  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it.

  But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an X-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Never again…

  Poppy swore she’d never be with a vampire again, but she’s beginning to think there might be one exception…

  Poppy withdrew into the Alaskan wilderness to escape the immortals who wanted to drain her life, her will, her very soul... but when her long-lost sister reaches out with a desperate plea, Poppy knows she'll do anything to save her. Even accepting the help of a bold, brash, and far-too-fetching vampire stranger…

  Never again…

  Ulrich swore he’d never drink the blood of a human again, but he’s beginning to think there might be one exception…

  Ulrich is a different kind of vampire - a rogue who lurks deep in the northern caverns under the ice. There’s only one thing that can bring him out of hiding. Revenge. And perhaps the tempting scent of one inexplicably irresistible woman…

  Never say never…

  Thrown together by fate, haunted by their past, and tempted by the forbidden, they must race together in an uneasy alliance to rescue the ones they love. But what waits for them is worse than their darkest nightmares... the one thing that could change forever the balance of power between vampires and humans on Earth...

  BLOOD COURTESAN: HOOKED

  Selena Kitt

  Michelle Fox

  Did You Know?

  BABYSITTING THE BAUMGARTNERS

  Is Now a Motion Picture from Adam & Eve?

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  Starring

  Anikka Albrite

  Mick Blue

  Sara Luvv

  A.J. Applegate

  Directed by Kay Brandt

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  CHAPTER ONE

  I hadn’t heard from my sister in years, and when I finally did, it was over two continents and four-thousand miles. It wasn’t by phone or email or text or even snail mail.

  I heard Lily screaming.

  My sister’s cry came like a shockwave, passing through me with a shuddery blast of heat. I dropped my camera with a small scream of my own, then swore silently to myself—silently, because I had the sudden feeling the pack of wolves I was photographing had heard me.

  From my vantage point, I couldn’t see them without the aid of technology. Late November in the Alaskan tundra had brought the dark days with it, and even at noon, the landscape was little but shadow. As an albino, with my light-sensitive red eyes and white-blonde hair, I was happiest in the dark.

  But with no sun to light my way, to spy on the wolves, I had to rely on night vision. The wolves, on the other hand, had built-in night vision, and even though they were a relatively safe football field away—I had an amazing zoom lens—their eyesight and hearing were far keener than mine. I found my camera in the snow and quickly brushed it off.

  Although I was concerned about the wolves and their whereabouts in the dark after giving away my position—situational awareness was a life-or-death thing for an Alaskan wildlife photographer—the scream still echoing in my head shook me more.

  You’re dreaming. You’re hallucinating. You should have taken that stupid phototherapy Doc Downing wanted to write you a prescription for. So what if you felt ridiculous wearing it? Maybe you wouldn’t be hearing voices now…

  But no rationalizing could stop the shivering that had nothing to do with cold.

  I lifted my camera and peered through the viewfinder, looking for movement. The wolves were gone from where they’d been. So they had heard me. Probably went underground into their den for safety’s sake. The pups weren’t full grown yet, but they were big enough to travel. They’d been roughhousing outside the den, the alpha and his mate watching like proud parents when—

  Poppy!

  I kept ahold of my camera this time, but my heart squeezed at the desperation—the fear—in my sister’s voice. I sat, pulling my knees up against my chest, trying to control my suddenly-frantic breathing.

  Everyone said that twins had a special, “psychic” connection—especially identical ones. But we were fraternal twins, and as different as two people could possibly be. To think we were “connected” in some way was crazy. Even if we were, how come I’d never had an experience like this before? I hadn’t seen Lily since we were little, never heard a peep from her, whether inside my head or through any other medium.

  But if it wasn’t really Lily’s voice in my head, then… well, what else could it be?

  “You’re going bonkers,” I muttered, checking my camera and trying to shake off the sense of overwhelming dread. I had gloves on, so it was hard to tell, but everything felt okay. Hopefully there were no hairline cracks. I’d have to check with a flashlight when I got back to camp. “Completely off your nut. Been out in the damned cold too long.”

  Poppy, please! He’s going to kill me!

  My head snapped up. “Lily?” I whispered, looking around in the darkness—as if I’d just missed a figure walking toward me, waving their arms and screaming. That’s really what my rational mind expected to see—my sister on the Alaskan tundra, calling for help. “Is it really you? This is Poppy…”

  But there was no one. Just me and the wind–and, somewhere out there, the wolves.

  And yet, there came an answering voice in my head. Yes! Yes, Poppy, it’s me! Oh, thank God, listen, I need you to come. I’m—

  That’s when I heard a low growl somewhe
re to my left, close—too close. It was a sound that made goose flesh prickle my arms and my whole body tingle. Sound receded—including Lily, if it had really been her at all—and I was suddenly very aware that I was completely alone out here. Thankfully, I wasn’t only armed with a camera. I had my .308 Weatherby—and it was big enough to kill a polar bear.

  I’d never killed any living thing with it. But I realized that today, I just might have to.

  Damnit, Lily, you always got me into trouble…

  If it hadn’t been for the distraction, I would have noticed the wolf’s approach. And I knew it wasn’t alone. Wolves in packs hunted in packs. The alpha and his mate had probably heard me, caught my scent and had come to check out the threat to their den.

  I was in real trouble.

  I put my camera down and felt beside me for the cold steel of my rifle. It was the only thing that might get me out of this—and I wasn’t sure it could do the job. Yes, it could bring down a polar bear. A single polar bear. But four or five adult wolves at close range? I wasn’t Annie Oakley, by any stretch of the imagination. I would probably have time to shoot one wolf before the rest of them were on me.

  My hands trembled as I slowly rolled to my side, taking the rifle with me. Squinting in the darkness, I saw the night-flash of two eyes.

  Four.

  Six.

  Eight.

  And I knew there was at least one wolf behind me, the one that had growled.

  That’s not right. There are only four adults in the den. They wouldn’t bring the pups out. Where did the other wolf come fr—

  The attack came so fast, I wouldn’t have had time to even get one shot off. The full weight of a wolf’s body, giant paws stabbing my gut, was like being hit by a train. I couldn’t even scream. In the darkness, I could only see the flash of its eyes, but I could feel the heat of its breath on my face, and I did the only thing I could think of—I reached up to push against the wolf’s chest and rolled. It was like trying to roll a boulder off me, but somehow, I managed to unbalance the animal and tip it into the snow.

  Five wolves. I was surrounded by five wolves in the middle of the Alaskan tundra, and there was no way out of this I could see. But my survival instinct was strong, and I clutched my gun and kept rolling. I knew I was headed in the direction of the wolf who’d given that scary, low growl, but at least it was away from the four others.

  I was on my belly when the wolf I’d tipped off attacked me again. This time it was no exploratory pounce. He was out for blood, teeth ripping at my parka, looking to sink into my flesh. His jaw snapped onto my shoulder and I screamed, the sound small and pathetic across empty miles of land. I was so far from town, so very far. The local sheriff knew where I was, but right now that was no comfort except that they’d know where to find my body.

  I struggled to crawl in the snow, grasping blindly for my useless rifle, and then I remembered the knife in my boot. My fingers closed on the hilt just as the wolf turned, his teeth closing around my thigh.

  Some part of me was out there, watching this all unfold in a dream-like haze. I’d seen wolves take down prey enough to know what was happening. The alpha would pin and paralyze me—and the rest of the wolves would move in to tear at my brachial and femoral arteries with such precision, you’d think they’d taken an anatomy class.

  It was over.

  I had seconds, not minutes, before I was going to die, and the only thing I could think of was Lily, my sister—her voice in my head a distant memory. I couldn’t “feel” her anymore, like I had before. Whatever connection had been there—if it had been there—had been broken.

  But I called out to her anyway. Not out loud, because I couldn’t breathe with the two-hundred-pound wolf on my back, and I couldn’t see anymore, either. Even in my head, my voice felt far away, distant, as if my “self”—everything I’d ever associated with “me”—was slowly slipping away.

  Lily, I love you. I’m sorry. It should have been me.

  Then the weight of the wolves became unbearable, but there was no pain. Just an impossible weight, paws digging into my back and thighs. I could feel jaws clamping down around my body, teeth worrying the thick parka that shielded me from the cold, and there was nothing I could do to save myself.

  Then, suddenly, I could breathe again. The snarl and growl of the pack moved off me and, with great effort, I rolled onto my side, my breath coming in big, whooping gasps. As soon as I could see more than the black stars dotting my vision, I tried to get to my feet.

  It wasn’t an easy task. I stumbled, head spinning, as something hot ran down my leg. The wolf’s teeth had punctured my skin, even through my thick gear, and I was bleeding inside my heavy suit. I hadn’t felt pain at the time, but I did now. I couldn’t stay upright—the world was spinning too fast, tilting on its axis, spilling me onto my hands and knees in the snow.

  Snarls and yelps of pain came from nearby. Something was different about the wolves—they were fighting in earnest—and as I squinted at their moving shapes in the darkness, it finally clicked.

  The wolf that had growled beside me wasn’t part of this pack. It was a lone wolf and his growl hadn’t been for me, but aimed at the pack of four who had been hunting me. It had been a challenge—maybe a warning—and now they were fighting over the prey.

  Me. They were fighting over me.

  I had to get the hell out of there.

  For a moment, I actually considered grabbing my camera and the rest of my equipment, but the epic wolf battle going on near it changed my mind. My rifle was lost somewhere in the snow under the wolves’ feet. I decided that all those things, however expensive, were replaceable.

  I was not.

  As much as I wanted to bolt across the snow, I crawled away on my hands and knees, still too woozy and nauseous to trust myself upright. My first foray into standing hadn’t gone too well—I definitely wasn’t ready for running–and creeping away while they were all distracted seemed like the best way to stay unseen.

  I glanced back in the twilight, frowning at the flash of eyes and the writhe of fur. The lone wolf that had growled beside me seemed to be winning, as far as I could tell. The other wolves were easier to see, their fur silver or gray, but the giant black wolf was like a shadow that swallowed them all.

  I’d been following and watching these wolves for weeks, photographing their pack interactions and getting to know the individuals from afar, and despite the fact they’d attacked me, part of me felt bad they were being hurt on my account. It wasn’t natural that one lone, large wolf could take down an entire pack, but from the howls of pain I was hearing, that’s exactly what seemed to be happening.

  That’s when the black wolf looked back at me and snarled, as if telling me he hadn’t forgotten I was there. That once he won the fight, he was coming for me.

  That gaze, and the threat of my own imminent death, finally propelled me to my feet. Limping through the deep snow, I moved as quickly as I could away from the sounds of fighting, knowing that to the victors–or victor–would go the spoils.

  Namely, me.

  The natives said a lone wolf wouldn’t attack a human—although a pack might, if it felt threatened. I knew that firsthand now—I’d been the idiot who’d alerted them to my presence. I was miles from Barrow—which had recently been rename the native Utqiaġvik, although it hadn’t quite caught on yet—and had hiked out here and set up camp so I could watch the wolves.

  But now I was injured.

  And being hunted.

  When I’d stumbled far enough away that I couldn’t hear them anymore, I stopped, sitting back on my heels and catching my breath. I still felt dizzy and lightheaded, and my leg was sticky. Blood. How much, though? I had a long way to go back to town. It would be just my luck to bleed out before I reached the town line.

  I sat in the snow, pulling one of my gloves off with my teeth and wincing at the bone-chilling cold. I inspected my snow pants, seeing the puncture marks. Blood was already staining the fabric. Sharp
damned teeth, I thought bitterly, feeling the wet, stickiness on my thigh. I could smell it, sharp and tangy, like sucking pennies, something Lily and I had done as kids.

  I supposed it wasn’t strange I’d turned to Lily in that moment before possible death. The memory of her French-braiding my hair at night, her fingers small and skilled, her touch tender and gentle, came back with a painful twinge. Would I have thought of her at all if I hadn’t heard her in my head? She was the last person in my life who had really loved me.

  A howl split the air, jarring me back to the present. Get your ass moving, I told myself, sniffing and blinking away the water from my eyes before it froze on my cheeks. Or you’re not going to have one to move.

  I reached into my pocket, my fingers already numb from cold, and found several of the cloths I used to clean my camera lens. I folded them into a thick rectangle and slid them down my snow pants, pressing hard against the wound on the inside of my thigh. If he’d bitten any harder, he could have pierced my femoral artery. But considering I was still alive—if a little dizzy—I knew he hadn’t.

  Something caught my eye and I lifted my head to see four shadows moving in the distance—the wolf pack slinking back to the den. That meant the big, black wolf had either been killed—or had won.

  The latter thought made me shiver—never mind the cold. I left the cloth on my thigh and yanked my glove back on. It didn’t matter how much I was bleeding now if I ended up dead. Struggling to stand—keeping warm out here meant a whole lot of layers, making it tough to move—I made it to my feet, my gaze searching the flat, frozen landscape for cover, but nothing grew here except lichen.

  There was no way I could outrun a wolf. I had to pray that he’d lost the fight with the pack—which seemed reasonable, given it had been four on one. My breath streamed in front of me as I trudged through the snow, trying to ignore the ache of the pain.