by Cynthia Eden
“I love you, Aidan,” Jane whispered.
She trusted him with her life.
He got that bullet out. Flung it across the room. Then he was putting his wrist back to her mouth. “Drink, now.” Because his blood was special. Sure, all werewolf blood was strong, downright delicious for a vamp, but…
An alpha werewolf’s blood could heal like no other.
Jane’s lips pressed to his pulse. Her little fangs slid into his skin. His eyes closed as he released a slow breath. Jane was alive. Jane was okay. Jane was safe…again. She drank from him and he bent his head, relief surging through him. His Jane. His fucking Jane.
Right then, he wanted to pull her close. To hold her against his heart and know that she was safe.
And after that…
He wanted to beat her sweet ass.
She’d told him that she was just going for a walk. A fucking walk. How had a walk turned into that blood bath?
Her tongue licked over his wrist. She pressed a soft kiss to his hand. “Thank you.” The words were soft, husky. He knew sleep pulled at her. She’d heal while she slept.
His fingers slid over her cheek, wiping away the tears. “When you wake up, we’re talking.”
Her long lashes cast a shadow over her cheek.
“You’re not doing this shit again,” Aidan growled. “You can’t risk yourself like this. I won’t allow it.” He was the alpha in the city. The one who controlled all the paranormals. And as of very, very recently…Jane was no longer human.
She was a paranormal, just like the others under his command.
Whether she liked it or not, she had to follow his orders.
And order number one for his beautiful Jane…
Don’t get hurt. Because her pain gutted him.
A sharp knock sounded at his office door. He knew only one wolf would have the balls to see him right then, only one guy would have been able to get past the guards below—Aidan’s first in command, Paris Cole.
Jane’s breathing was deep, easy. Humans thought vampires didn’t breathe—that they were cold. That their hearts didn’t beat. But that was all bullshit. Hollywood hype. Vampires breathed. Their hearts beat. They lived.
Their deaths were fleeting. They came back, stronger, far more powerful than ever.
He turned and headed for the door. Jane’s blood was still on his hands when he yanked that door open. Paris stood there, one brow raised and curiosity glinting in his golden eyes. The tall, African American wolf was dressed in a tux, and he looked as far from a beast as it was possible to get.
Then Paris inhaled and his gaze dropped to focus on the blood that coated Aidan’s hands. “What happened?”
“An ambush.” He stepped back so that his best friend could enter the office. At least, that was what it had looked like to him. Jane went for a walk and wound up nearly dead.
“Someone tried to take you on?” Paris demanded as he crossed the threshold.
“No.” Aidan shook his head. “Someone tried to take out Jane.”
Paris’s gaze immediately cut toward the couch—and a heavily sleeping Jane. Her back was still bare and bloody. “Sonofabitch.” His hands tightened into fists. “I’m assuming the fools are dead?”
“Good assumption.” Aidan nodded. “And I’ll be taking a team out to the alley because I want to personally search the scene. They had wooden bullets. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did…” But he stopped because he wasn’t going to finish that sentence.
He felt his friend’s gaze on him. Once more, Paris inhaled and then he said, voice halting, “All of the blood isn’t hers.”
No.
“You were shot,” Paris added.
He’d barely felt the pain. Now, he just shoved his claws into his gut and pulled out the two bullets. “Wood, not silver. They were for her, not me.” He’d just been in the way so the blond bastard had fired at him.
But Jane? Those two had wanted to kill her.
Paris gave a low whistle. “Okay, the way I see it…we have a few very big problems.” He paced toward the couch. Toward Jane. He put his hands on his hips as he stared down at her sleeping form. “Problem one…Jane’s secret is out. Obviously, there are people who know exactly what your girlfriend is.”
Vampire. Only Jane hadn’t been a vamp, not until a few days before. Then her human life had ended and—well, shit, they were still adjusting to the change.
His pack was adjusting.
He was adjusting.
So the hell was she.
Normally, vamps and werewolves were natural enemies. When a werewolf scented a vampire, the primitive instinct to attack, to kill, took over. As an alpha werewolf, Aidan should have immediately killed Jane when she turned.
But he hadn’t.
Because she’s mine.
Jane wasn’t like other vampires. Because of him, werewolf blood had flowed in her veins before her change. So when she’d transformed, she hadn’t just woken as a vampire. She was something so much more.
And too many people were afraid of that more.
Some in New Orleans believed that Jane was too dangerous. That she was going to be the end of them all.
“Since Jane is so new to the vamp world,” Paris continued, voice thoughtful, “humans shouldn’t know what she is, not yet. Hell, I would only think one vamp in town knew what she was.”
The vampire who’d helped to end Jane’s human life. Vincent Connor. Only that bastard had made himself absent lately. Probably because he knew Aidan intended to kill him at the absolute first opportunity. Payback is coming, asshole.
Paris glanced back at him. “You think Vincent is spreading the word about her?”
Aidan’s claws were still out. “I think it’s past time for me to have a little one-on-one chat with the guy.”
Paris exhaled slowly. “Problem two…The people who know Jane’s secret? Well, the fact that she’s covered in blood means they want her dead. They know what she is, and they want to end her.”
Obviously. “Two humans were in the alley with her. Neither of them made it out alive.” That meant there were two less people hunting Jane.
“So either they’re the only two who were involved in this mess and the threat to her is already gone or…” Paris shook his head. “Or there’s a boss somewhere, hiding in the shadows. Someone who set that attack in motion.”
That was precisely what Aidan feared. “Stay with Jane.” The order came out fast and hard. There were two people in the world that Aidan trusted completely. Paris…
And Jane.
“Uh, I stay—and what do you do?” Paris asked as his brow furrowed.
“I go back to the alley. I follow any scents left behind.” Because no one else had a nose like an alpha. “And I hunt down any other fools who were in on the attack tonight.” He knew the attack went beyond the two humans who’d died that night. More was at play, he could feel it. When it came to the paranormal world, there was always more at work than what met the eye. It was a rule to live by.
He hurried back to Jane. She slept deeply, a healing sleep. His hand lifted and his bloody fingers lightly smoothed over her cheek.
“Yeah,” Paris’s voice was grim. “That brings me to problem three.”
Aidan pulled his hand away from Jane, but before he could move back, Paris had grabbed his wrist. Paris turned over Aidan’s hand, staring at the faint bite marks on his inner wrist.
“Problem three.” Paris slowly lifted his gaze to meet Aidan’s. “Problem three is that you can’t keep giving her your blood.”
Aidan yanked his hand away from Paris. “What the hell did you think I was going to do? Let Jane bleed to death?” Hell, no. Not an option for him.
“I think…I think you have to be careful.” Paris seemed to measure his words. “Every time that you give her your blood…she could become more powerful.”
Aidan tensed. “You worried she’ll grow too strong?”
“I worry that she isn’t done changing.” The faint lines n
ear Paris’s mouth tightened. “And that you aren’t, either. You’re giving her your blood, man. A werewolf wasn’t meant to feed a vamp that way.”
A werewolf wasn’t meant to feed a vamp at all. They were supposed to be natural enemies.
“We don’t know what the connection you have with her…” Paris said doggedly. “We don’t know what it will do to you. Or her.”
Because there’d never been another mated pair like him and Jane. When she’d transformed, she should have killed him.
He’d been duty bound to kill her but…
I didn’t. Neither did she. “Watch her,” he snapped out. “Make sure that she stays in this room until I get back.” He turned on his heel and stalked to the bathroom. A new sink and countertop gleamed in the spacious bathroom. He washed his hands at that sink, watching his blood and Jane’s blood disappear down the drain. Then, his hands free of blood—for the moment—he marched back into his office. “You are going to keep her here, right, Paris?” He threw out the question as he headed for the door.
“Oh, right,” Paris drawled. “Because it’s easy to keep a super vamp in place. I mean…the woman is just prophesized to be the end. No big deal. I’ve definitely got this covered.”
Aidan glanced back at him and Aidan just stared at his best friend for a moment. Stared, glared, same thing.
Paris swallowed. And straightened. “Right, alpha.” He gave a quick little smart-ass salute. “She won’t leave the room.”
Good. Because when Aidan got back, he and Jane were going to fucking clear the air. She didn’t get to risk herself over and over. She didn’t get to run into danger.
She was his.
And if something happened to her…
I will go insane.
Hell, maybe he already was insane. Plenty of his pack members suspected he was. After all, what sane werewolf would mate with a vampire?
I would. I’d do anything for Jane.
That was the problem.
But he was also the paranormal boss in the city, and it was time that Jane started paying attention to the rules in place. His rules.
Chapter Two
The alley was clean. It had looked like a blood bath just an hour before but now the place was practically spotless.
Aidan’s nostrils twitched.
Bleach. Someone had even used damn bleach at the scene. He stared down at the ground. A body should have been there, close to the trash bin. The blond bastard that he’d killed with his claws. But the guy was gone. So was his partner.
A low whistle came from behind him. Aidan didn’t move at the sound. He waited as Garrison, one of his younger pack members, approached. Garrison’s arm brushed against Aidan’s as he studied the scene. “Somebody sure moved fast, alpha,” Garrison mused.
Somebody sure as hell had.
And the bleach was overpowering—nearly wiping out all the other scents.
“At least we don’t have to clean up the bodies, though,” Garrison added, his voice sounding a bit brighter. “That’s something, right?”
Aidan turned his head and focused on the redheaded wolf. Garrison was still young—Aidan reminded himself of that fact for about the hundredth time. He’s young. He’ll learn. He’s only an asshole some days. “The bodies would have told me something.” But now—
He stiffened. He’d just caught sight of a faint green light from the corner of his eye. A light that should not have been in that alley. His head tilted up, then to the left. There. Small, dark—a video camera. The faint green light was glowing from the bottom corner of the camera.
Someone is watching.
His eyes narrowed on that camera. Someone had been watching while Jane was attacked? While she lay on the ground, fighting for her life? And now…someone was still watching as he came to find answers.
“Uh, alpha…” Garrison began nervously.
Aidan leapt up into the air—far higher than any basketball player could ever dream. His claws drove into the camera and he wrenched it down.
No more green light. No more watching.
The wolves who’d come with him to that alley were dead silent.
A video camera…one that had recorded a vampire and a werewolf that night. “Trace it,” Aidan ordered. When it came to tech, his pack knew their shit. “Find out where the feed was going. Find out who the hell put this camera up there. Find out…” His voice dropped to a growl. “Who was watching.”
Who was watching while Jane nearly died.
***
The dream came again. Dream, nightmare, memory—to Jane, there was no difference.
She was tied down, secured on the top of an old table. In the basement of her house. When she turned her head, Jane could see her mom. Her mother was tossed on the floor, her limbs all twisted and a big pool of red underneath her body. Her dad…he was there, too. Another quick turn of her head showed Jane her dad’s form. The only father she’d ever known, not by blood, but by love. He’d loved her so much, all the way until the very end.
His eyes were still open, but she didn’t think he saw her, not anymore.
“There, there…no need for tears, little one. It’s all for you.” That voice was back. The voice she hated. Mean and cold and cruel and she wouldn’t look at him. She just wouldn’t.
“We waited a long time for you. You’d better not disappoint.”
She looked back at her dad. This was her house. Her mom’s house. Her dad’s house. They were supposed to be safe there. Why aren’t we safe?
“You can scream if you want,” that cold voice told her.
It was all the warning she got. Pain came then. So hot. Burning, branding. She screamed and screamed but it didn’t stop. And she could smell something—something funny. Something—
It’s me. I’m burning.
Her voice broke and her cries stopped.
“Good girl.”
She didn’t want to be good. Not if he liked that.
“I’ll be back soon.” He stroked back her hair, and his green eyes gleamed down at her. “We’ll take a little break. Let you get a bit of strength back so that we can finish things up.” His blond hair was swept away from his face. A face that seemed so normal.
It isn’t. He’s not normal. He’s evil. Monster. Monster. Monster!
Vampire.
There were no tears on her cheeks. She’d stopped crying after…Daddy.
The green-eyed man—monster—shut the door on the way out. Her home. He had taken over as if he owned the place. They had. In the middle of the night, monsters had come for her. Her mom had told her that monsters weren’t real. That she should never be afraid of them.
Her mom had been wrong.
She heard faint squeaks. The softest of rustles. Her eyes had closed. When had they closed? She should look around and see what was happening.
But she was afraid and she didn’t think she wanted to see anything else.
Her right side kept hurting. Throbbing. She could still smell that terrible scent in the air. I think that’s me.
“Mary Jane…” A soft voice called. Her brother Drew’s voice. “Mary Jane…are you okay?”
Don’t be here. Don’t. Run away.
“Y-you didn’t tell them I was here.”
Now she did cry. One long tear slid down her cheek.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna get you out.”
She shook her head and kept her eyes closed. But she felt him pulling on the ropes that held her ankles down. There was a faint sawing motion. It sounded so loud to her ears. She was afraid he would hear. “Stop.” The barest of whispers.
But the rope gave way. Her legs were free and her feet hurt because it felt like needles were shoved into them. She bit her lower lip as hard as she could, trying to hold back her cries. Now wasn’t the time to scream. She knew that.
Her eyes opened.
Her dad’s sightless eyes stared back at her.
No, look away. Look away!
Then the rope was gone from her wrists. Sawed away
. He’d cut her wrists with the knife he had, but she didn’t care about that small pain. Then he was pulling her, pushing her toward the window. Such a small window. They were in the basement. And that window was up high.
“I’ll go through first,” he said. He shimmied up and vanished.
I don’t want to leave mom and dad. But…they were already gone. They’d left her. They weren’t suffering anymore. No one could ever make them suffer again.
“Mary Jane!” Drew reached down for her. His hand was small, barely bigger than hers. Dirty. Bloody. “Come with me, Mary Jane!”
Had he been hiding during everything? Hiding and waiting? He’d seen everything, too, just as she had. She looked up into his eyes—eyes that were the exact shade of her own. He’d been crying. He never cried.
Her gaze darted back to his hand just as she heard the basement door opening—the faintest of clicks from the top of the stairs. The monster was coming for her again.
She grabbed for the dirty little hand, and he pulled her up, yanking with all of his strength. Her body slid through the narrow opening of the window. Her shoulders. Her chest. Her stomach. Her—
The monster grabbed her feet.
”No!” she screamed. And then she held that dirty little hand even tighter. “Drew, help me!”
***
The nightmare-slash-dream-slash-walk-into-hell faded. Jane cracked open one eye. She wasn’t in the old basement any longer. Her face was shoved into a familiar leather couch—Aidan’s couch. She moved just a bit and saw the floor of his office and—
Legs. Legs in fancy black pants.
“Rise and shine, Jane,” an amused voice murmured. A voice that did not belong to Aidan.
Her head lifted and she stared at Paris. He smiled at her.
And she realized she was naked from the waist up. Good thing she’d only lifted her head. Jane took stock of her body, checking for aches and pains, but she actually felt good. No, better than good. Strong. Powerful.
She flexed her back but didn’t feel the pull from her wounds.
“Already healed,” Paris told her, rather helpfully. “It was quite amazing to watch, really. Your skin just starting closing about an hour ago. Like it was stitching itself up.”
