Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)

by Cynthia Eden

  Garrison ran his hand through his shaggy red hair. The tips of his hair seemed a bit singed. Maybe more than a bit. “I don’t remember much…The flames were everywhere. You—you were yelling at me to stay down…”

  Aidan froze a few feet from him.

  “I thought we were both dead,” Garrison whispered.

  Aidan turned his back on the other man. He didn’t want Garrison to see his fangs. Vampire fangs. “Not yet,” he said.

  But Aidan didn’t know if those words were true. Had he just healed from the fire?

  Or had he fucking died?

  And he’d come back…as something else?

  “I need Jane,” Aidan rasped. She was the one who could help him. The one who could let him know just what in the hell was happening.

  His anchor, in the fucking storm of his life.

  He. Needed. Her.

  “Vivian…she gave me your blood when we got here.” Garrison swallowed and offered a weak smile. “Good thing we keep some of that powerful alpha blood on ice, isn’t it?”

  Aidan just stared at him. It was standard procedure to keep his blood stored on the premises so that any injured wolves would have access to it. An alpha werewolf’s blood had amazing healing properties.

  If I hadn’t been an alpha, I’d be dead now.

  Garrison’s weak smile faded. “You saved my life again.”

  “Forget it.” Aidan brushed past him and started grabbing clothes from his closet. Jane should be here. The fear he felt, the terrible tightness in his chest, wouldn’t ease until he had her close again.

  “I remember…when you saved me before.”

  Aidan glanced over at the guy. Garrison was staring at the floor.

  “My parents were bleeding in front of me. No, they were already dead, and their blood soaked our wooden floor. I thought I would die then, too.” His shoulders hunched forward.

  “You didn’t die,” Aidan said.

  Garrison gave a rough nod. “Because of you. Then…and now.” His hands fisted at his sides. “I owe you more than I can ever repay, alpha.”

  “I don’t want payback.” He grabbed for his clothes.

  “One day, you might.” Garrison’s voice was soft. “And when you do, I’ll be there.”

  Aidan started jerking on his shirt. He didn’t handle emotional shit well—not with anyone but Jane. Garrison, hell, he’d always felt protective of the guy, even though the younger wolf was a pain in the ass most days.

  Isn’t that why I burned for him?

  Garrison’s steps were shuffling toward the bedroom door. “I’m so sorry,” Garrison whispered. “About Paris. He was…one of the good ones.”

  Aidan stilled.

  The bedroom door began to crack open.

  In a flash, Aidan was at that door, slamming it shut again. He’d moved even faster than he normally did and his fangs—they’re out again.

  Garrison blinked at him in confusion.

  “You talk about Paris in the past tense.”

  Garrison’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “Why?” Aidan growled. Vivian was lying to me. I could sense it…

  “Y-you should speak to V-Vivian…” Garrison had paled.

  “I’m speaking to you. Why are you sorry about Paris?”

  Garrison licked his lips.

  Aidan grabbed the guy’s shoulders and jerked him up so that they were nose to nose. “Why are you sorry?”

  “B-because I saw him being zipped into the body bag! He didn’t make it…he…he died before his ambulance ever had a chance to leave the scene.”

  Chapter Six

  Paris lunged up, his fangs snapping toward Jane’s throat.

  Behind her, Dr. Bob let out a very high pitched scream. She heard his footsteps scurrying away.

  Way to help out, Dr. Bob.

  Right before Paris could plunge his new teeth into her, Jane drove her fist right into his face—the face that had not repaired itself since the fire. Paris’s head slammed back onto the exam table with a clang, but he was only down a second before he came lunging up again.

  This time, Jane threw him against the nearest wall. He growled at the impact, shook his head, and stared at her with the feral intensity of a beast.

  Or of a starving vampire.

  “See,” Dr. Bob hissed from his hiding spot a few feet away—a spot that put him under his desk. “Vampires wake up wrong. Filled with bloodlust. All they want to do is attack and feed. They don’t care who they have to kill in order to get their fill of blood!”

  Jane made sure to keep her body between Paris and the hiding ME. “Knowing that he was going to wake up as a vamp would really have helped us out here,” she threw at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one who checks the dead bodies for things like this?”

  “I didn’t know! I didn’t realize you’d bitten him!”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Well, somebody did,” Dr. Bob yelled right back.

  Paris lunged toward her, teeth snapping.

  Those snapping teeth caught her shoulder. “Ow!” Jane screamed. She elbowed him, and then, for good measure, she head-butted him. “Paris, I’m not on your menu!”

  “He has to be put down!” Dr. Bob called. “Stop playing with him. Just end this!”

  Playing? Playing! “It’s Paris,” she snarled. “I’m not ending anything.” But she could sure use some help. “Get me something to knock him out with! Don’t you have some kind of drugs here?” Sure, the main ME building had burned the night she’d woken up as a vampire and they were in “temporary” quarters—another building that was a block away from the original medical examiner’s office. But the place looked pretty well stocked to her.

  So give me something to knock out Paris!

  Paris charged at her again. She dodged his attack, barely. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Jane said. She felt guilty enough for breaking the guy’s neck. After all, that broken neck must have come courtesy of her second-story toss. “You’re Aidan’s best friend—”

  His fangs snapped at her.

  “But you are not making a meal of me!” She kicked him in the stomach, then grabbed the exam table he’d been on. Her vamp strength was in full effect as she lifted that table up into the air. “Stay away from me, Paris!”

  He wasn’t speaking. His eyes were wild. Saliva dripped from his teeth. He wasn’t the Paris she’d known. He was—

  Attacking.

  She tightened her hold on the table, preparing to swing it at him like a bat.

  And—

  Bam. Bam. Bam.

  The bullets blasted into Paris, one after the other. They sank into his chest and he blinked, seemingly confused as blood began to ooze from his new wounds. Then he staggered, falling to his knees.

  “About time you helped out,” Jane snapped to Dr. Bob as she swung her gaze toward the shooter. Only…Dr. Bob wasn’t the one who’d fired.

  Someone else had slipped into the temporary lab during the chaos. A woman with smooth chocolate skin, long, dark hair, and a light brown gaze that was locked on Paris as he bled out on the floor. Tears glimmered in that gaze even as magic seemed to pulse in the air around the woman.

  Annette Benoit. Voodoo queen extraordinaire.

  Jane lowered the table. Paris’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he’d slumped against the floor. “You have…really good timing,” Jane said.

  “I saw the fire in my mirror.”

  Goosebumps rose on Jane’s arms. Yes, okay, she was a vampire. She knew all about the paranormal, but the fact that Annette could look into a black scrying mirror and see things—past, present, future—that still unnerved her.

  “When I scried tonight, I saw him die,” Annette said. She inched closer to Paris. A tear slid down her cheek. “I just came to tell him goodbye. I-I didn’t know he’d rise.”

  Jane took the gun from Annette’s hand and checked the weapon. Silver bullets. Silver, not wood.

  “A woman needs protection.” Annette barely glanced her
way. “I always carry that gun with me…well, I do ever since my last werewolf lover tried to kill me.” The words were said as an aside. Her focus was on Paris. There was so much pain on her face.

  “He’s not dead,” Dr. Bob announced.

  Jane saw him finally crawl out from beneath his desk. She glared at the doctor. “We know he’s not dead. He’s undead, that’s the problem. A problem you weren’t helping with.”

  “What? What was I supposed to do?” He pointed to his chest. “Human.” He pointed at her. “Super vamp. I knew you could handle a few bites from him.” Dr. Bob brushed off his white lab coat. “But he’s not finished yet, so we need to take his head and end—”

  “No!” Jane yelled.

  “No!” Annette whispered.

  Dr. Bob blinked. “But…he’s a vampire.”

  “So am I,” Jane reminded him, like he needed the reminder. “And you didn’t take my head.”

  Dr. Bob rubbed his face and looked vaguely guilty. “If you’d come to drain me dry, despite our friendship, I sure would have tried.” His hand fell. “Have you forgotten, Jane? They don’t all rise like you. They come back as mindless beasts, driven to attack. To kill. To drain anyone close to them. You were different because you were—”

  “A born vampire.” Annette cut into his words.

  Dr. Bob nodded. “Paris isn’t a born vamp. He was a werewolf. He shouldn’t even be a vamp.”

  No, he shouldn’t be. “Get his blood,” Jane ordered the doc. “Start running your tests. See what it looks like. If it’s…like a normal vamp’s or if it’s something more.”

  But Dr. Bob didn’t move. He stared at her, at Annette, and sympathy flashed on his face. “Do you know what job Paris had just weeks before?”

  Jane shook her head.

  “He and Aidan would eliminate the vampires that rose in my lab. They’d end them. Take their heads, stake their hearts. A bloody, terrible job that they did because they knew they were giving those poor turned bastards peace. I’ve seen vampires rise, again and again. They’re mindless. They’re monsters. They just want blood and they’d drain the young, the old, anyone who came close to them.” He gave a sad shrug of his shoulders. “When Paris opened his eyes, when he came at you, Jane, he had that same wild look in his gaze. We have the chance to end this all, right now. We can give him peace.”

  She looked back at Paris. His blood dripped onto the floor, pooling beneath him. “Peace can wait a bit.” Because I am not ready to give up on him. I can’t. She turned her head to look at Annette. “You got some magic you can do to hold the guy in check until we find out more?”

  Annette’s hand went to the bag at her side. She reached her fingers in and pulled out a small doll. “I’m pretty good at controlling the dead.” No emotion was in her voice.

  Okay, the lady was just scary when she said stuff like that. “He’s undead,” Jane clarified.

  “I’ll be able to control him.” Annette began to sprinkle what looked like dirt around Paris’s body. “For a time.”

  Well, that was something.

  “He’s not going to…stay here, is he?” Dr. Bob asked nervously. He looked around his makeshift office. “I mean, yeah, it’s the middle of the night now, that’s why no one came running when shots were fired. But people will be here tomorrow. I can’t have some vamp sprawled out in my exam room—”

  “I’ll move him by dawn,” Jane promised. She’d find a place to contain him. There had to be a place nearby…Vivian would know of a place.

  Aidan would know.

  Oh, God. I have to tell Aidan. But…

  “Do the blood tests.” Jane nodded briskly. “He shouldn’t have changed. Find out what the hell happened.”

  “I will,” Dr. Bob promised. “But you need to talk to someone who understands vamps one hell of a lot more than we do.”

  Yes, she did. The problem was that vamps weren’t exactly cooperative. Not friendly at all. Not…

  “You know who to contact,” Annette said. She bent and dipped her little doll—not a doll really, more a figure that seemed to be made from sticks—into Paris’s blood. “The vamp who brought you over.” She looked up at Jane, her lips twisting. “Vincent Connor. The vamp that Aidan hates most is the one you need now.” Annette’s eyes had taken on a hazy, distant look. One that was creepy. She usually looked that way when she was peering into her black mirror.

  Jane cleared her throat. Her shoulder throbbed where Paris had taken a chunk out of her. “Vincent Connor cut out of town. The guy said he’d guide me, then he split.” Talk about deserting her in her time of need. “Not like he’s going to help me—”

  Annette rose. Her fingers brushed over Paris’s hair. “Who told you he left?”

  “Uh, Aidan and—”

  “Every paranormal in the city knows that Aidan told him to stay the hell away from you…or else Vincent was going to lose his head.”

  Jane’s lips parted.

  “Well, I guess every paranormal but you knew,” Annette added.

  Great.

  Annette inclined her head as she continued, “Vincent has been giving you some…space. But he hasn’t left town. He’s still here. He’s been waiting on you.”

  Waiting on you. Goosebumps rose on Jane’s arms. “How do you know that?”

  Annette’s fingers slid down Paris’s ravaged face. “He told me.”

  “You know where he is?”

  “I know how to reach him.”

  “Then do it. Get him here.” They needed his help. Aidan could be pissed. He’d get over it if Vincent could help Paris.

  “I’ll call him,” Annette said softly.

  “Yeah, yeah, you do that.” Jane started to pace. Then she looked down at herself…her clothes were singed. Bloody and…

  I look like the walking freaking undead.

  But wasn’t that exactly what she was? What Paris had somehow turned into?

  “Run the blood tests,” Jane ordered Dr. Bob once more. “And let’s see what Vincent has to say.”

  ***

  An hour later, Jane was pacing in the corridor just outside of Dr. Bob’s lab. This building was definitely not as nice as the place they’d been in before. But, since his previous lab and the building that housed it had been destroyed, she knew the city hadn’t exactly been plush with other options. So Dr. Bob had gotten bounced to the little building on the corner, a building that smelled of mildew and fresh paint. Smaller, tighter, but it was still a place for the dead to go.

  Only some aren’t staying dead.

  What had happened with Paris? She hadn’t bit him. She definitely hadn’t given him her blood. So how in the hell had he become a vamp?

  Jane shook her head and kept pacing. Vincent needed to hurry his ass up and get there. She’d borrowed the scrubs that Dr. Bob’s assistant had left in her locker and taken a quick shower to wash the blood away from her body. They’d secured Paris to an exam table, strapping him down as tightly as possible. He hadn’t stirred, not yet.

  But she was afraid that he would, soon.

  Where in the hell is the vampire? She hadn’t seen Vincent Connor in days. And she’d been glad. The guy scared her. Mostly because…

  He broke my neck.

  And…

  He’s like me. Vincent was born, not made into a vampire. And he’s old. Like Viking-freaking old. With age…came power? If the two of them had to tangle, Jane was very much afraid that Vincent would kick her ass. And she knew that Aidan pretty much hated the bastard so she’d hoped to keep those two away from each other.

  The last thing she wanted was for Aidan to fight the vampire.

  She heard the click of a door opening. Jane spun around. Footsteps were approaching her as someone stalked down that long, lonely hallway. Her nostrils flared, her body tensed and—

  Aidan’s familiar scent seemed to wrap around her.

  Tears burned Jane’s eyes and she stopped guarding that lab room door. She ran down the hallway—and straight into Aidan’s arms. H
er body slammed into his, but he didn’t so much as stagger. His arms—warm and strong—wrapped around her, holding her tightly as he lifted her up against him.

  His mouth met hers. No gentle, tentative kiss. Desperate, wild, frantic.

  Aidan.

  Alive. Safe.

  Aidan.

  Her arms were locked so fiercely around him. She never wanted to let him go. Never wanted to feel the terrible wrenching terror that came from knowing…

  I can lose him.

  To flames. To fire.

  To…

  She pulled back.

  To the pain I’m about to cause him.

  Her feet slowly slipped back to touch floor. Jane stared up at Aidan. So handsome. There were no marks on his face. Not even a single blister. He’d healed completely.

  Amazingly.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

  His bright stare seemed to pierce right to her soul. “Never do it again.”

  “What?”

  He leaned down and kissed her once more. A hot, open-mouthed kiss. “Never run into a fire for me again. I’m not worth it.”

  “You are to me,” she immediately said. “Aidan, you’re—”

  “I’m not worth your life.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with him. She also wasn’t about to make him a promise she wouldn’t keep. So Jane just asked, “What if I’d been in that building?”

  His face hardened. “You were because of me.”

  “Aidan—”

  “I was the bait this time, Jane. Don’t you see that? The bomb was set, the place was rigged. He knew I’d be the one to track him. He set all of that for me. And you came rushing in to save me.”

  He. Who the hell was this he? “I’d do it again.” And she wouldn’t apologize. Wouldn’t pretend that she’d ever rethink the situation. “Just as I know you’d do it for me.” The tie between them cut both ways.

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I love you so fucking much, Jane.”

  Her heart melted a bit. It was still new for her, to hear him say those words. And, sure, okay, they didn’t come out all romantic and gentle from Aidan. Aidan wasn’t romantic and gentle. But she knew he meant exactly what he’d just said—Aidan loved her.