by Cynthia Eden
“No,” Jane murmured as she approached the newcomer. “He’s not.” Her gaze swept over the woman. The blonde wore thick, gold bangle bracelets around her wrists. “You’re Vincent’s witch.”
The woman took a step back. “Is that what I am?”
She was so not in the mood for games. “Lena,” Jane snapped out. “Vincent told me your name.”
“What else did he tell you?” Now Lena seemed vaguely curious.
“That you were strong.” Jane took another step toward her. “That you were the reason the guy can pretty much vanish in an instant, a little trick that I don’t know of any other vamp performing.”
“Umm…” Lena smoothed back her hair, even though it was already perfectly in place. “He does owe that trick to me.”
Jane moved to walk around her, but Lena side-stepped, blocking her path. Jane’s brows shot up. Oh, sister, you do not want to be doing that.
“You shouldn’t go after him right now.” Lena’s voice had dropped. “He’s…he seemed rather dangerous, and I do believe he told you to get the ‘fuck away’ from him.”
“Aidan needs me.”
“I think the guy needs a whole lot right now,” Lena muttered.
Jane’s eyes narrowed on her. “Why didn’t you stop him from fleeing?”
“Because the guy is strong—too strong for me to hold for long.” But Lena actually seemed…happy…about that fact. “Didn’t anticipate that power. Bet Vincent didn’t, either.”
Jane moved to the left.
The witch moved, too.
“Seriously, get the hell out of my way, now,” Jane ordered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” Sadness flashed on Lena’s pretty face. “But we aren’t always given options. If you follow Aidan tonight, you will lose him.”
“What? Did you look into a scrying mirror and see that?”
“A scrying mirror?” Lena shook her head. “Never used one. I don’t see the future, just the present, and I can see that right now…that man is fighting for his sanity. No,” she rolled back her shoulders. “I think he’s fighting for his soul.”
And Jane was just standing in an alley, talking shit with a witch she’d just met. “All the more reason for me to get to him.”
“If he hurts you, he’s lost, and he knows it.” Lena’s gaze swept over Jane’s face. “Go to him now, and he’ll cross a line that will send him straight to hell.”
Okay, enough of this crap. “Move…or I’ll move you.” She wasn’t afraid of a witch’s power.
Lena stared at her a moment longer. “The end, Jane. Do you see? It’s all been leading to this moment. For so many centuries, everything has been building up to this.”
“To this?” A dark, smelly alley? The lady wasn’t moving so Jane just grabbed her—and moved her. “This moment is me choosing to follow Aidan. Me choosing Aidan. I know he’s suffering, I can see it—”
“The darkness is swallowing him. His two halves…wolf and vampire…they were fighting for supremacy within him. Didn’t you see that?” Lena demanded.
Jane marched to the edge of the alley. Lena rushed behind her.
“The wolf took over when he left!” Lena’s voice was breathless. “The beast doesn’t reason. It just reacts. I know, I’ve seen more than my fair share of alpha werewolves during my time on this earth. But right now, Aidan Locke is like an alpha on serious steroids. Even his mate can’t calm the beast in him.”
Jane had Aidan’s scent, and she knew she could find him, no matter where he’d gone. She looked back at the witch. “Want to bet?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned to the left, locked on Aidan, and she ran after the man who mattered most to her.
When he’d had her against that wall, it had been as if she were staring into the eyes of a stranger. There had been no tenderness, no love in his blue gaze. Only rage. Bloodlust. He’d looked at her as if she were his prey…
And she’d been afraid. Of him. Of what was happening to them both.
There were so many people on the streets. How the hell had they missed a giant black wolf rushing past them? Were the people on Bourbon that drunk already?
Jane’s pace quickened as she tried to catch up to him, but even though his scent drifted in the air back to her, Jane couldn’t see Aidan.
Maybe no one could see him…maybe he’s moving too damn fast for human eyes to notice him. That would explain why the humans weren’t screaming in the streets.
An alpha on steroids. That was how the witch had described him.
Oh, shit, but this was going to be one hell of a night. Jane ran forward and she tried not to think about the brother that a vampire had taken away, the brother who wanted her dead.
***
“Why…are you with me?” Paris’s voice was a weak rasp.
Annette shrugged. “Someone has to keep you safe.”
He laughed. “I’m not…the one in danger.” His golden gaze dipped to the line of dirt around him, then back up to her face. “You are. Isn’t that why…you have me caged?”
He was making more sense when he talked now. Seeming a bit…saner. That was good. He’d drained more bags of blood and his bloodlust appeared sated, for the moment. She could talk to him again. Talk to Paris.
“I have you caged,” her voice was nearly as soft as his, “because if you come for my throat, I’ll have to stop you. Kill you. And I don’t want to do that.”
His lips twisted in a mocking smile, one that flashed his fangs. “Because my life matters to you?”
She wasn’t in the mood for mockery. “Yes.” A simple, true answer. “You do matter.”
He tensed. “Why didn’t you tell me that…” His words were growled. “When I was still alive?”
She held his gaze. She’d always thought he had such beautiful eyes. “Because I was waiting on you to make the first move.” Waiting on him, while she fell for him. Paris Cole. The true blue werewolf. The most loyal of the pack. The man of courage and honor.
The man who’d stolen a voodoo queen’s heart without even really trying.
“Too…late for a first move now.” His gaze fell from hers and his hands fisted in his lap. When they’d hauled him out of the ME’s lab and transported him to that old club, Aidan had made sure the guy was given fresh clothes—jeans and a t-shirt. He looked almost…normal. “The last thing you want is to be tied to whatever the fuck I am.”
“No, the last thing I want…” She waited for his gaze to rise and meet hers once more. “The last thing I want is to be in this world without you.”
Surprise flashed on his face.
“I’ve waited a long time for you, Paris. You’d better be worth the wait.”
And his eyes seemed to lighten. Some of the terrible tension left his face. He wasn’t a blood-crazed monster. He was…Paris. Her Paris. Coming back to her. Fighting his way back and she thought they’d have a chance together, she thought—
Footsteps raced behind her. She grabbed her gun and jumped to her feet. But when she turned around, she saw that the guy who’d been racing toward her was just Garrison. He ran toward her, but his gaze flew around the room, searching for threats.
“Garrison! What’s happened?”
Tension rolled off the guy. “Aidan sent me.” His eyes were still searching every corner of the room. “I’m here to protect you two.”
She laughed.
He glared at her.
“Garrison, trust me, I can protect Paris just fine.” She didn’t need the junior-wolf taking over the job.
“Alpha’s orders.” Garrison threw back his shoulders and suddenly didn’t look quite so young or reckless. “Paris is my friend, and I will protect him. No one is going to get to him on my watch.”
A chill slid over her. “Who’s coming to get him?”
But Garrison just locked his jaw. Did that mean he didn’t know? Or he wasn’t telling her?
“What did you find out about the blood?”
“His blood is the same as Jane’s. Doc said the cells had transformed the same way. He thinks…he thinks the blood Paris was given belonged to Jane.”
“Someone is making new monsters.” The gravel-rough words came from Paris.
Her gaze slid toward him. He lifted his hand, showing the claws that had sprouted from his fingertips. The claws of a werewolf, even though he had the fangs of a vamp. “And I guess I was one of their experiments.”
She’d never needed her scrying mirror more. Annette felt as if she were walking blind. Who was the enemy? Where was the threat coming from?
And what was going to happen next?
Chapter Fourteen
“I need a doctor!”
The scream came from the front of building, jarring Annette. She had been trying to scry in the chunks of glass she had left, but she’d seen nothing. Paris had been silent and watchful behind her and Garrison…
He’d been a guard dog. She wasn’t even sure how long the guy had been pacing the perimeter around her and the frantic scream had her crashing back to reality.
At that scream, Garrison lunged out of the back room. She rose, about to follow.
“Don’t.” Paris’s rough voice. “Stay with me.”
She looked back at him. He still seemed sane, so maybe the blood he’d taken had turned the tide for him. Perhaps it was her imagination, but he just appeared better to her. She hoped it wasn’t just wishful thinking.
“I’m bleeding!” The plaintive voice cried out. “Take me to a hospital! Take—”
She grabbed her gun and made sure it was hidden behind the loose skirt of her dress. Then she took up a position in the middle of that room. Anyone coming through that door would have to go through her before getting to Paris.
A few moments later, she also saw their guests.
“I’m back,” Vincent Connor said, flashing her a tired smile as he sauntered into the back room. “And I’ve brought friends.”
He had his hands clamped on the shoulders of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, a man who seemed familiar to Annette though she’d never met him in person before, she was sure of it. Deep gashes covered his neck and jaw, obvious signs of a wolf attack.
Just which wolf had the guy pissed off? And why was he there?
Garrison was glaring at the injured human, but not attacking. Not yet, anyway.
And there was a woman in the little group, too. A woman with pale, blonde hair and bright green eyes. Heavy gold bracelets—bands?—curled around her wrists.
“Just what friends are these?” Annette murmured. She made sure to keep her position in the middle of the room, and Garrison hurried to her side.
“This…” Vincent’s hold tightened on the bleeding human. She was surprised he hadn’t decided to take a bite with all that tempting blood flowing. “This is Drew Hart. The human who has been fucking everything up for us.”
“Vampire bastard!” Drew cried out. “You let me the fuck go, right now, you—”
“Lena…” Vincent sighed out the name. “Make him stop talking.”
The blonde waved her hand toward Drew. Instantly, his lips clamped together and he stopped speaking.
“Thank you.” Vincent didn’t look the blonde’s way. His gaze was on Annette. “How’s our wolf? Still rabid?” Then he made a show of glancing around her.
She bristled. “No, he’s—”
“Not freaking rabid,” Paris muttered from behind her.
Surprise flashed on Vincent’s face. “He speaks…and with sense, too.”
Lena inched forward.
“Where’s Aidan?” Annette demanded. Her hand tightened on her weapon.
Vincent glanced over at Lena.
Sadness flickered on her face. “When I saw him last, the darkness had taken him over. He’d lost the battle and was running wild into the night.”
What? No, no way. He—
“Aidan had two beasts inside of him, a werewolf and a vampire.” Lena’s voice was so soft that Annette had to strain in order to hear her. “That’s not the way things were meant to be.”
Paris is carrying two beasts.
“They ripped apart his sanity. Only bloodlust and rage are left in him now.” Lena shook her head. “I tried to warn Mary Jane Hart, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
Drew frantically shook his head. Blood dripped from his wounds.
Vincent’s teeth snapped together.
“Mary Jane went after him.” Lena’s shoulders fell. “But I’m afraid that when she finds Aidan, he won’t be the man she needs. He may not even be a man at all.”
Paris was dead silent behind Annette and tension seemed to be rolling off Garrison.
“I tried to tell Jane.” Vincent shoved Drew down onto his knees before him. “She wasn’t meant to be with Aidan. The consequences of their mating would be disastrous. Now, she’ll see for herself just what I meant.”
Annette backed away from him. Her gaze fell to her broken scrying mirror. Those precious chunks…
And for just a moment, she saw something. A quick flash.
Of Hell.
***
Hell’s Gate. Jane followed Aidan’s scent back to the club on Bourbon Street. His haven. The place where it had all started for them.
She’d met Aidan just outside of Hell’s Gate while working her first case as a homicide detective. A woman’s dead body had been dumped near the club. Of course, that particular victim hadn’t stayed dead, not for long. And Jane’s world had quickly spun out of control.
Slowly, she approached the entrance to Hell’s Gate. The guard stood as she neared. “Ms. Jane…” Troy looked over his shoulder at the closed door. “You shouldn’t…I don’t think you should go in tonight. Something isn’t right.”
Troy had claw marks on his stomach. She’d smelled his blood from a block away. Jane swallowed. “Aidan did that to you?”
He nodded.
Shit. “When I go inside, lock the door behind me. Then go back to the werewolf compound and get that wound treated, okay?”
But he didn’t move. Troy’s eyes—one blue and one green—stayed locked on her. “It isn’t safe for you.”
“I can handle him.” She sounded way more confident than she felt. “But everyone else needs to stay away for now.” Until she had her Aidan back. And she would get him back. There was no alternative for her. Whatever she had to do in that place, she’d do it. Jane wasn’t about to lose him. They’d already been through too much together. She wouldn’t give him up now. “Lock the door behind me,” so they wouldn’t get any unexpected visitors, “then go,” Jane ordered.
He hesitated but, after a moment, Troy stepped out of her way. Jane’s hand curled around the door handle and she opened it slowly, the hinges creaking. She stepped into the club, and it was dark inside, a cavernous darkness.
It was a good thing she could see so well in the dark.
She advanced a few feet and the door swung shut behind her. The locks turned, a loud, distinct click of the tumblers. She listened a moment and heard Troy’s footsteps fading away. Now…now she was alone with her beast.
Jane knew Aidan was there. She hadn’t spotted him, not yet, but Jane could feel him. Watching her. The hungry stare of a predator.
Was he a wolf?
Or a man?
Both?
She rubbed her hands on her jeans. She still had blood on her—Roth’s blood. She wanted to go back to his place, to search for clues, to get his damn body taken care of but…
Aidan came first.
He mattered. Because Jane was very afraid that Aidan was slipping away from her.
She walked into the middle of the club. Her gaze swept over the ground floor of Hell’s Gate. “Aidan?”
A low growl had the hair on her nape rising. Her gaze shot upward, toward the second level of the club, and she saw his hulking form.
He wasn’t a wolf, not any longer.
Her breath expelled in a relieved rush and a wide smile curved her lips. “Aidan, yo
u’re okay!”
He began walking down the stairs, a slow, steady glide. His eyes glowed a bright blue in the darkness.
He was…bigger. The guy had always been muscled, but this was different. His arms were bigger, his shoulders far wider, his height even a few inches taller.
An alpha on steroids.
Jane licked her lips. “You’re okay,” she said again but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself of that fact.
He didn’t speak. Jane retreated a step, then stopped herself. She forced her shoulders to straighten as she waited for Aidan to come to her.
They’d made love in this same place just a little while before. Aidan had said that he loved her, and she knew he’d meant those words. He loved her.
She loved him.
They were going to get through this madness.
Some way.
She could practically feel the threat in the air around her. It was instinctive, the way a hunted animal could sense the predator closing in.
Aidan was before her and the hard, dangerous expression on his face clearly said Jane was his prey.
He lifted his hand and his dark claws came toward her face.
***
“The alpha won’t hurt Jane.” Garrison was adamant. “He loves her.”
Annette bent to get a better view of her broken mirror chunks. She could see fire and hell. Blood and death and…
Jane.
“He won’t kill her,” Vincent agreed. “Because I don’t think he can. Beast, man, or vamp…he still thinks of Jane as his. But when the chips are down…” He exhaled slowly. “I’m afraid Jane won’t have an option. She’ll have to stop him before he turns on innocents.”
Annette stared into her glass. “The end.” That was what the burn mark on Jane’s right side symbolized. She looked up at Vincent.
“Yes,” he said. “Jane will be his end.”
Drew was straining in Vincent’s hold. Straining and still bleeding.