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

of an abandoned alarm clock was the only sound in the home.
    As Trenton crept toward the bedroom, his first inclination was to call out someone’s name, but he didn’t know if one of them was here. He reached the closed bedroom door and found it locked. His hand pressed against the cool wood, a solid door made from oak. Scratch marks lacerated the doorframe and polished brass knob.
    A soft voice snapped, “You go ahead and try to come through that door, and I’ll show your ass what kind of bullets mama got in her gun.”
    Trenton couldn’t resist a chuckle. Emma snorted from behind Charly.
    Trenton knocked for good measure in a tap-ta-tap beat. “It’s Officer Spencer, Mrs. Wendell. We’re here to escort you to safety.”
    “Safe out there, my ass. How do I know you ain’t one of them?” she asked. He faintly heard the click of her gun’s safety.
    “‘Cause I’d be ripping the door off the hinges if I was, ma’am. It’s as safe as it can be for now. We’re taking any stragglers to the school bus to get them out of town.”
    “All right … I guess.” The door slowly opened. Trenton pulled it the rest of the way. Damn, that sucker was heavy. She’d been smart to hide in this room. The only window, a circular one, was barely large enough to fit a smaller child through.
    “How did you get this shut?” Trenton joked.
    “When you have those crazy bastards coming for you, you’d be surprised how strong you get.” The top of Mrs. Wendell scarcely reached Trenton’s shoulder, but she had enough spunk for them all. She grabbed her purse and shotgun. “Let’s go, kiddies.”
    “Where’s your son?”
    The elderly woman shook her head. “He ... bought me time to get to the room. I can only hope he ran away in time.”
    “I’m sorry,” Charly mumbled.
    “It’s not your fault, girl. You didn’t bring those bastards back to us.”
    Emma flashed a dark look to Trenton, but he remained silent. This wasn’t the time.
    “I’m going to take Mrs. Wendell to the bus,” Emma said. “You check the Fields’ house. We’ll meet up at the bus stop.”
    Trenton nodded. He hoped the evacuations would go well. As they ran toward the Fields’ house on the other side of town, he spotted a few people from the list running toward the schoolyard. By the time they got to the Fields’ ranch house, the sun had begun to set. Eight hours ago he’d bought a coffee from the shop and now they feared for their lives. The black memories from the last attack touched his senses and he tried to push them away. He had a job to do: serve and protect.
      Unlike the Wendell home, the Fields’ house appeared locked down. All the windows and doors were shut tight. Trenton checked the front door and found it secure. He knocked a few times, but no one answered. Some instinct told him not to go. Even if it was deathly quiet, someone had to be close.
    “Maybe they left already?” Charly asked.
    “I don’t know. Something is off.”
    “I have a way to check.” Charly turned away from him and then used her nails to rake into her wrist. Droplets of blood formed along the tracks.  
    “What are you doing?” he snapped.
    “The magic here is scant,” she whispered. She scratched her other wrist.
    “Stop it!” He grabbed her elbow. “I don’t like this.”
    “I’m doing what must be done. I can help you find them.”
    His grip tightened. She wrenched her hand away and took the knife from his belt instead. Before he could stop her, she hurt herself again. A sharp cut to her palm brought fresh blood. Then he caught the scent he hadn’t noticed before—an additional peppermint-like layer hidden under the coppery smell.
    Charly raised her palm to reveal a growing smear. “This is me. What you see and smell is the real me.”
    She spoke with downturned eyes and took another step back before drawing something he couldn’t see into her hand. Then she exhaled into the blood pooling in her palm. The darkening liquid pulsed and