by Cynthia Eden
Instead, she’d been focused on making sure Aidan’s control didn’t explode.
Jane and Aidan hurried for the door but…Vivian snagged Jane’s wrist, stopping her before she could leave Hell’s Gate. Aidan strode outside, and she heard him talking to the bouncer/guard who was on duty out there. Jane had caught a glimpse of the guy when she and Aidan first arrived. Troy. Tall, muscled, a strong, fierce wolf with multi-colored eyes. She knew his job was to make sure humans received the message that Hell’s Gate was closed—closed to all but a select few for the time being.
“What’s wrong with Aidan?” Vivian asked, her voice hushed.
Jane’s shoulders tensed.
“You think I can’t see that something is going on? Jane…what is happening?”
She stared into Vivian’s eyes. She wanted to tell her but…
“Jane.”
Her head snapped toward the door. Aidan was back. He lifted his hand, offering her his palm. “We need to hunt.”
Jane pulled away from Vivian.
“Watch out for him,” Vivian whispered.
Jane’s hand curled around Aidan’s. Was the captain asking her to watch Aidan’s back? Or was she telling Jane…
Watch out for Aidan’s attack?
They walked outside and Sharon had been right, the rest of Bourbon Street was busy while Hell’s Gate was absolutely dead.
When Aidan gave an order, it was followed. The nearby guard gave her a brief nod. She inclined her head toward him.
A wild, woodsy scent teased her nose—a scent not coming from the werewolf guard Troy—and she heard the rush of footsteps coming toward her.
“Aidan!”
They turned together and she saw Garrison frantically waving at them as he ran down Bourbon Street. He shoved people out of his way, muttering apologies as he went. “Aidan, I know what happened to Paris!”
So did they. Or rather, they knew who had happened to Paris.
Then Garrison was in front of them, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed. “Annette…she gave me Paris’s blood.”
Aidan grabbed the guy and pushed him against the wall of Hell’s Gate, moving them away from the humans who were eager for their drinks and parties as they strolled down Bourbon Street.
“She wanted me to take the blood to Dr. Heider and get him to run his tests.” Garrison’s words tumbled out so fast that Jane had to strain to understand him.
“Slow down, Garrison,” she urged him. So I can figure out what’s going on.
His gaze snapped toward her. “It was you.”
Jane’s brows shot up. “What?”
“Your blood and Paris’s blood…the doc said they’re showing the same characteristics. The blood that Paris was given was yours. That’s why he changed. He had your blood in him when he died.”
She could feel Aidan’s stare on her. She looked at him and sure enough, that glittering blue gaze had locked on her. “I didn’t give it to him,” Jane said.
“I know,” he gritted out. “Roth fucking did.”
But where had Roth gotten her blood? And why had he given it to Paris?
Aidan rolled back his shoulders. “Garrison, go back to Annette and Paris. Stay there until you hear from me.”
Garrison nodded. “Right. But, um, what am I supposed to do there?”
“Keep them both alive. If anyone comes gunning for Paris, you take them the fuck out, got it?”
The bright color faded from Garrison’s cheeks. He stared at Aidan, and suddenly, the guy didn’t look so young. “I got it, alpha. I got it.”
***
He hadn’t asked the right questions. That alone told Aidan just how far gone he was. Days ago, he never would have made a mistake like that. His mind was in damn chaos, and he’d screwed up.
And I put Jane in danger. I should have eliminated the guy when I had the chance.
Aidan leapt up the steps that would take him to Roth Sly’s apartment. Jane was right in front of him, her gun was already in her hand.
He’d had Roth in his grasp, and he’d let the bastard go. I won’t be making the same mistake again.
Jane thought they were going to interrogate the guy. That Roth would get taken into police custody when they were done with him. Just because he was human, did Jane seriously think Aidan was going to let the fellow live?
He hurt Paris. He’s been stalking Jane. That fucker is going down.
They reached the landing. His nostrils twitched and the coppery scent that reached him stirred the vamp within.
Blood. A whole fucking lot of it.
When he heard Jane’s sharply indrawn breath, he knew she’d caught the scent, too. They both ran for the apartment door on that second floor—the historic building only had two floors, and the bottom floor was a closed down book store. Aidan beat her to the apartment door and he kicked it in, making the wood splinter. He rushed inside, his claws out, his fangs ready to bite—and then he found his prey.
Roth Sly lay on the floor, a growing pool of blood beneath him. Jane rushed to Roth’s side, slipping a bit in the blood. She put her hand to his neck—jeez, the bastard’s throat had been cut nearly from ear to ear and the blood was pumping out of him fast.
“He’s still alive!” Jane cried. She slapped her hands over his neck, trying to stop that wild flow of blood.
That scent…So much fucking blood.
Every muscle in Aidan’s body tensed.
“He needs an ambulance!” Jane yelled. “Aidan, we have to get help!”
Help wasn’t going to arrive in time for that guy. Aidan saw the truth clear as freaking day. Why didn’t Jane see it, too?
“Who did this to you?” Jane leaned over Roth. “Look at me, tell me—”
But Roth was trying to frantically turn his head away from Jane, struggling weakly with his last bit of strength. Because I told the bastard to not so much as look at her again. Aidan surged forward even as he tried to stamp down the bloodlust that was rising within him. Like a damn buffet in here. So much blood.
His heart drummed in his chest. He bent next to Jane, right in that blood, and put his hands on top of hers. “Who did this?”
Roth’s lips parted. He was trying to speak, but no words were coming out. Had his attacker severed his vocal cords?
Shit, shit.
Roth began to jerk beneath his hold. “He isn’t going to make it, Jane,” Aidan snarled. The human was going to die, any moment, unless…
Unless Aidan gave him blood. Alpha blood might just give the guy the strength to hold on a bit longer, but…
I don’t know what my blood will do to him. Werewolf and vamp blood…straight to a human? Just what kind of monster would he make then?
“No, Aidan,” Jane said as if reading his mind. “It’s too risky. We don’t know—”
A guttural cry broke through Jane’s words. That cry didn’t come from Roth—the guy was barely breathing. Instead, that choked cry of fury came from the man who’d just lunged through the broken doorway, a man with dark hair and eyes too much like Jane’s.
Drew Hart had joined their little party. The bastard lifted his hand and Aidan saw the glint of the knife he held. “Found you,” Drew shouted as he stared at Aidan. “Now I end you.” He charged across the room, barreling straight for Aidan with that knife gripped tightly in his hand. Aidan was willing to bet the weapon was made of silver.
Jane leapt to her feet. “Drew, stop!” She ran at him.
Oh, the hell, no. Aidan had played this scene once before. It hadn’t ended well, and he would not be repeating that nightmare. He grabbed Jane’s arm and yanked her behind him even as Drew sliced down with the knife.
The knife slammed straight into Aidan’s heart. And it burned. Smoke rose from Aidan’s chest. Right, knew it was fucking silver.
Drew laughed. “I…just had to wait for my moment…when you were distracted…got you, got…”
“Aidan?” Jane’s voice was broken.
He looked down at the knife in his chest. �
�Silver.”
“Right, you bastard!” Drew yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. “It’s—”
Aidan yanked out the knife. More smoke drifted up from the blade. “Stung,” he allowed. “But it sure as shit didn’t end me.”
Drew’s eyes widened in horror. “What? How? No! You’re a werewolf! You told me—but I knew before, long before I set foot in this town—I was prepared for you! I was—”
Aidan lunged forward and he shoved that knife right against Drew’s throat.
Jane’s brother stopped talking. He barely seemed to breathe. The blade was pressed to Drew’s skin. It would be so easy to slice that skin right open.
“I’m not just a werewolf any longer.” Aidan bared his fangs. “So silver to the heart won’t stop me.” He considered the matter for a moment. “I’m not sure anything can stop me.”
Drew paled.
“But I know how to stop you,” Aidan said. And he was going to enjoy this. “I’m going to cut off your head. Cleave it straight from your body, and then you won’t ever hurt me or what’s mine again.”
“Aidan…” Jane’s voice. Still lost. Still…stunned. “Aidan, I—”
He didn’t look back at her. He didn’t hear Roth’s wheezes any longer and he knew the bastard was gone. His gaze slid to the left. To the photos on the wall. Photos of his Jane, though some of the images had been ripped down. “What did you do?” Aidan asked Drew. “Kill the bastard and then just lie in wait for us?”
Roth had been the bait. And Drew—
“Mary Jane!” Drew cried out. “He’s a fucking beast! Stop him! He’s going to kill me!”
Jane’s fingers curled around Aidan’s shoulders.
“I’m your family!” Drew’s voice was breaking. “I just…I wanted to help you! I was protecting you! Always!”
“No, you dumbass. You were the one killing her.” Aidan let the knife’s blade cut into Drew’s skin and blood began to trickle down Drew’s throat. “You killed her and you killed Paris.”
Drew shook his head and that rough movement just made the knife slice deeper. “Paris? Like, Paris, France?”
“Like my friend Paris.” The scent of the blood was getting to him. Bloodlust and rage were combining within him. Why slice his throat? I can drain the bastard dry. I can make him beg for death. I can rip his world apart with one bite.
“I don’t know any Paris!” Drew yelled.
“You were working with Roth, weren’t you?” Aidan snapped his teeth together. “And what…Paris was just in the fucking way? A distraction that you needed to make?”
Drew kicked him and raked his fingers over Aidan’s face, drawing blood.
Aidan dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor.
Drew blinked, looked at the knife, then back at Aidan. “You—”
Aidan lifted his claws. “I don’t need the knife.” He would take the man’s head all too easily without that weapon. His claws drove right for Drew’s throat.
“No!” Jane threw her body into Aidan’s, shoving him away so that his claws just raked over Drew, slicing deep into his jaw and neck.
Drew screamed in agony.
Jane and Aidan hit the floor. He roared as he pushed her to the side and leapt to his feet. My prey. My fucking prey.
“Aidan, stop.” Jane had jumped to her feet, too. She stood in his path. Drew was running for the door and Jane was shielding that bastard. “Aidan…”
“He dies.”
That she would dare to stand there and protect Drew Hart…after all he’d done. Jane’s life. Her blood on the ground. And the fucker just went for my heart.
The control he’d tried so hard to hold ripped away in that moment. The fire of his shift swept through him only…
Aidan didn’t shift, not completely. His muscles seemed to double in size. His claws grew longer, darker, harder, and his fangs sharpened even more in his mouth. He let out a guttural roar.
Jane stepped back. “Aidan?”
Nothing stops me.
“Aidan, stop!” Jane grabbed his arm. “Something is wrong. You’re not—”
He yanked her close. His fangs went for her neck.
“Aidan?” Now her voice was soft, scared.
Apples and lavender wrapped around him. Jane. My Jane. And his fangs were raking at her throat. He was about to savage her.
My Jane.
He tore from her and rushed for the door.
His prey was already on the stairs. Did Drew think he was going to get away? To have the chance to run again and attack Aidan once more? To try and take out Jane?
No. It ends. The end is here.
Aidan was Drew’s fucking end.
He grabbed the banister.
Drew was on the ground floor. He’d grabbed the knife, tricky bastard. Like that was going to do him any good.
Aidan leapt over that banister and shot straight down. His feet touched the floor even as Drew yanked open the building’s main door.
“Aidan!” Jane’s desperate shout followed him. “Aidan, wait!”
He wasn’t going to wait. He was going to rip Drew Hart apart. Aidan’s shirt was stained with blood—his blood—but the wound had already healed. He could feel the tightness of the skin. He’d never healed that quickly. Never had such strength pulsing through his body.
I can do anything. No one will stop me.
He chased Drew outside. There were other humans on the street, but they were far away.
“Help me!” Drew screamed.
The fool was begging for help? After what he’d done?
“Help—”
Aidan grabbed the bastard and hauled him into the alley, then he slammed Drew against the stinking wall there. “No one’s going to help you,” Aidan told him. “You’re going to fucking die right here.”
The long slashes he’d made on Drew’s jaw and neck dripped blood.
Blood. So much blood.
“She’ll hate you!” Drew yelled. “You do this…you will lose Jane!”
The fool dared to talk to him about Jane? When Drew had been the one to set this nightmare in motion? Aidan’s fangs flew toward Drew’s throat.
“Stop.” A soft voice. Feminine.
And Aidan found himself freezing. Not because he wanted to stop. Not because he wanted to spare the SOB before him. But because magic held his body immobile.
“He’s strong,” that same feminine voice said, a bit breathless now. “I can’t hold him for long so if you want his prey to live, you’d better do something now.”
Aidan wanted to look toward that voice, but it was as if his whole body had locked down. His wolf—the beast that hadn’t shifted fully before—was clawing at his insides, desperate to get out. To attack this new threat.
Footsteps rushed toward him and Drew was yanked out of his grasp. Drew was yelling and screaming and—
“Quiet.” Not a woman’s voice, not this time. A man’s voice—deeper and familiar.
Using every bit of his strength, Aidan managed to slowly turn his head—a few precious inches—and he saw Vincent Connor with his hands clamped around Drew’s shoulders.
“I’m saving your ass,” Vincent snapped at the screaming man. “So cut out the damn noise before I decide to bite you.”
And Jane was right behind him, staring with horror at the scene.
Staring with horror at me.
“I’ll take him back to my building,” Vincent said.
The old damn BDSM club.
“Don’t worry, Jane. I’ll keep him alive until you come.” Vincent nodded toward Aidan. “Try to calm down your beast. If that’s even possible.” Disgust beat in his voice. Then, in a flash, he was gone.
And he’d taken Drew with him.
Aidan erupted. “No!” He howled his fury into the night.
“Can’t hold him any longer.” It was the other woman’s voice again. Sounding even weaker. “Never felt power…like his.”
And the magical force that had held Aidan in check broke. He lunged for
ward but Jane grabbed his arms. She put herself right in his path, between him…and the woman with long, pale blonde hair. Blonde hair and green eyes that glittered in the darkness.
“Aidan, calm down.”
There was blood on Jane. Roth’s blood. The scent just drove him wilder. No control. No restraint. The darkness is taking over.
“We have to talk, Aidan,” Jane said quickly. “We have to figure things out. We have to—”
“Get. The. Fuck. Away.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Get the fuck away.” His words were guttural. He could barely force them out. The blood scent was driving him crazy. Get away before I hurt you. Because he was afraid he’d crossed a line, there was no going back. He was being swallowed by the darkness. Consumed. And…
I like it.
“Aidan, let me help—”
He grabbed her and shoved Jane against the wall of that alley. That filthy, disgusting wall. His fangs snapped down to her throat and hovered there. He wanted to bite her. He wanted her blood, but if he tasted her right then…
Will I stop?
His head slowly lifted. He stared into Jane’s eyes and saw her fear. He could smell her fear.
Jane should never fear me. I should be the one who protects her, always. But something was wrong.
He was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. And then he jerked away from her. He raced toward the entrance of the alley, feeling the shift hit him. The beast hadn’t come out before—the vampire within him had dominated up in that apartment—but the wolf was emerging right then, and nothing could stop it. Fur burst along his skin. His bones snapped. He howled at the pain because it was an agony far deeper than he’d felt with a shift before. And when he left that alley…
Aidan wasn’t a man any longer.
Chapter Thirteen
What in the hell just happened? Jane pushed away from the alley’s wall, aware that her knees were shaking. Aidan had been going for her throat—and not in the sexy, lover-like way he’d done back at his club.
He’d been out for blood. Hers.
“I’m guessing he isn’t always like that.” The feminine voice drifted to her, a little weak.
Jane looked at the woman who stood a few feet away. The blonde who’d just appeared with Vincent. The lady was taller than Jane, probably around five foot ten. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, with small, black boots on her feet. She looked utterly normal right then, but Jane knew the woman was packed with magical power. After all, Jane had seen what the blonde did to Aidan.