by Cynthia Eden
Tears glinted in her eyes. Tears of rage. “She wasn’t an animal.”
But I am. His hand lifted and stroked over her cheek. A tear had spilled from her eye, sliding in a little twisting path over her skin. He caught that tear on his fingertip. “Be careful,” Aidan warned her. “Caring too much can be a dangerous thing.”
“Why would her killer want me? So I didn’t forget, so I—”
“I told you about vampires who are…born.”
“Right, yes. They have to die violently—otherwise, they don’t even know they are vamps and—”
“There are a few tell-tale signs.” His finger stroked over her cheek. Then down, to her lips. Such plump lips. So soft. And her teeth were white and perfect. Not as sharp as his.
Not yet.
“S-signs?” Her breath blew against his fingertip.
“Um.” His finger slid away from her delectable mouth. Down, down his hand went until his fingers were curled around her throat. He held her carefully, feeling the fast, desperate beat of her pulse beneath his touch.
“What signs? Aidan, just spill it, already.”
“The number one indicator would be…a werewolf’s persuasion doesn’t work on a born vampire.”
Her pulse sped beneath his hand. “What?”
“No matter how strong the werewolf is, a born vampire can resist the persuasion.”
He saw the understanding flare in her eyes seconds before she said, “I’m not a vampire!”
Not yet, you aren’t. Because if she was, he wouldn’t be stroking her skin so tenderly. The beast in him would be trying to rip out her throat.
Can’t happen. He dropped his hand and stepped back.
“What are the other signs?” Jane asked.
He shrugged.
“Aidan…” Her voice sharpened.
“Do you have any allergies, sweetheart?”
“Everyone has allergies.”
“Vamps can’t handle garlic. That part of the legend is true.”
She swallowed. “Garlic is nasty as hell. So I don’t like it on my pizza. That doesn’t mean I’m some kind of-of vamp-in-waiting.”
No, it didn’t.
“It means I just don’t like garlic,” Jane continued doggedly.
He took a slow breath and could almost taste her. The woman’s scent was truly delectable, and he’d come to crave it. Another dangerous sign. “I’d suggest a new career path for you,” he told her, seriously. “One that doesn’t have you running around with a gun all day and possibly dying a most violent death in the line of duty.” That would sure lessen her chances of waking up undead.
“I’m not a vampire.” She stepped forward.
He didn’t back up.
Their bodies brushed.
He wanted her mouth again.
“That’s what other werewolves will think, too,” he said because she needed to be aware of what would happen. “That you’re a vamp-in-waiting.” She’d actually hit on the exact term for her kind—or rather, what he strongly suspected her kind to be. “They’ll be threatened by you.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m going out to hunt them!”
“Vampires and werewolves are natural enemies. I told you that already. When a vamp gets around a werewolf, the instinct to attack, to kill, it’s a primal force.”
“But I’m not a vampire,” her voice had turned hushed. She tried to step around him. He just moved to the right and blocked her path. Frustration flashed across her face. “Do you want to kill me?” Jane asked him.
He laughed “Thought we covered this…”
“You want to fuck me.”
On the desk would be nice. Or against the wall. If she insisted on a bed, he could do that routine, too. As long as he had her.
“If the others see me as a threat, how come I’m still walking around?”
“Because you have my protection. They won’t challenge me.” They’d be fools to try. There was more he could tell her, more about alpha werewolves and vamps-in-waiting and the strange chemistry that could burn between them.
You want the one thing that will destroy you.
But he’d told her enough. For the moment.
Besides, maybe she wasn’t a vamp-in-waiting. Maybe she was something else. Soon enough, he’d know.
“They won’t touch me, but the vampire out there—he wants me?”
He can’t have you. “Jane—”
Her hip vibrated. Not her hip, her phone. The vibration was followed by a fast blast of rock music. “That’s my captain.” She yanked out the phone and turned away from him. “Hart. What’s happening?”
When her shoulders stiffened, he knew the news wasn’t good.
“Where?” A beat of silence. “On my way. Yes, yes, I can be there in fifteen minutes. I understand.” She hung up the phone and whirled for the door.
Once more, he blocked her path.
Her hands flew up and pushed against his chest. “Stop doing that!”
“You need me.”
“No, what I need is for you to get out of my way. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”
He held her stare. He’d easily overheard her conversation with her captain.
Hart. What’s happening?
Detective, we’ve got another one. Another damn blood-covered female victim on the streets.
Where?
Right behind the St. Louis Cathedral.
On my way.
I need you there fast, understand?
Now she was ready to rush off on her own. Ready to find another body. But if this victim truly had been killed just like Melanie… “You know I need to see her, too,” Aidan said flatly.
Because he’d be the one who had to stop her, if this victim woke up, too.
He thought Jane would argue. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, but after a moment, she gave a grim nod. “Fine, but you don’t get in my way.”
What? Did she think he was some kind of amateur? “I’m the one who saved that sweet ass of yours earlier today. Don’t worry about me getting in the way.”
Her eyes narrowed. He thought about kissing her again. Instead, he backed away, unlocked the door, and got ready to hunt.
No vamps are going to turn this city into a bloodbath. Not on my watch.
***
“That was easy enough,” Virginia Malone said with a quick smile as she tossed the phone to her lover.
“Baby, you are a true chameleon.”
Her cheeks tinted. She actually was a chameleon, in a really weird way. She couldn’t change her face or her body, but she could change her voice, a talent she’d discovered when she’d been an eight year-old-girl living in a foster home and pretty much hating life. She’d been trying to imitate her foster mother’s furious yells and suddenly, Virginia hadn’t been speaking with some squeaky kid’s voice.
She’d been using a deep, smoker’s voice, one rich and husky, and her foster mother had stared at her as if she were some kind of demon.
The woman had actually even gone to a priest and tried to get an exorcism done on her.
I wasn’t the demon, crazy bitch. Virginia still wasn’t sure exactly what she was, but she’d teamed up with Johnny when she’d finally run away from her last foster home—she’d been fifteen then—and she hadn’t looked back.
Johnny pocketed the phone she’d tossed his way, a phone that he’d swiped from some captain at the PD. It took balls to pull off a move like that, and her Johnny, he’d never shied away from those types of snatch and grabs. She actually thought he liked stealing from cops, that he got an extra rush from those jobs.
“She’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” Virginia said, rubbing her arms. It was dark behind the cathedral, and being there, it kept reminding her of that stupid would-be exorcism. Her foster mom had held her down on the bed, and the priest had poured holy water all over her.
Had he even been a real priest? Did real priests nearly drown little girls who were screaming and begging to be let
go?
Her gaze slid to the back of the cathedral. At night, with the lights shining on the back of the Jesus statue, a big, intense shadow covered the back of the cathedral. That shadow was in the pose of Jesus, reaching out his hands. And it was…
Intense.
Scary?
Yeah, the whole place was scary.
“If she’s coming, then we just have to be ready for her,” Johnny said with a nod.
Right. Ready. She was supposed to get on the ground and play the victim, and Johnny was going to wait in the shadows. When the detective got close enough to Virginia…I’ll tase the bitch. Then Johnny will grab her.
“Do you ever wonder…” Johnny’s voice was mild. “Just what you are?”
She laughed at that question, but Virginia could hear the nervousness in her own voice. “I’m a woman, John. You of all people should—”
“I’m talking about the way you can change your voice. There’s a reason I just called you a chameleon.”
She was growing more nervous by the moment. “What are you talking about?”
“The guy who hired us—he knew what you could do. Said your chameleon talent would come in handy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Made me wonder…does he know what you are?”
She wanted him to stop saying that. She was a woman, nothing more, nothing less.
“I mean, you never knew your parents, right? What if they were different, too? What if they had your power?”
Changing her voice was hardly a power. “They dumped me, so it doesn’t matter what they had,” she threw back. But even as she said those words, Virginia was aware of an ache in her heart. That ache had always been there.
“I’m just saying…vamps are real. We’re working for one, aren’t we? And werewolves are strolling around like they’re freaking bad asses. Other things have to be out there, too. What if you’re one of those other things?”
She crouched on the ground. “Showtime is coming. We need to get ready.” She was just supposed to sprawl there, with the Taser hidden under her side. Seemed easy enough. Hesitating before she stretched out, Virginia asked, “What if she brings the wolf with her?” The whole point had been to make a grab for the detective when the big guy wasn’t around.
“That’s why we’ve got back-up, too.”
Wait, what? She hadn’t been told about any back-up.
Then she heard it—the soft pad of approaching footsteps. A man was coming from the shadows—big and strong and menacing.
For an instant, Virginia almost forgot to breathe. Their employer. The vampire. Johnny had called him? She wished he’d told her. Because the guy coming toward her…he made her nervous. Her stomach knotted more with every step that he took.
Automatically, she reached for her gun but she didn’t have it. Johnny did. Johnny had given her the Taser, and that was the only weapon she had.
Like the Taser will do any good on him.
“She’s coming?” Their employer asked.
Virginia forced a nod.
“Good, but…if she’s looking for a dead body…” The vampire’s voice was deep and dark and oddly sexy. “Don’t you think we should give her one?”
It took an instant for his words to sink in. One long, terrible instant. And then she tried to use the Taser. Virginia yanked up her arm as the vampire charged her and she fired at him.
But he was too fast and that Taser, when it hit him, it didn’t even make him hesitate. He grabbed her, locked his hand around her neck, and yanked her toward him. Virginia tried to scream…Johnny! Johnny, help me! Only no sound came from her. His hold was too tight.
“Johnny asked for a bonus payment,” the vamp revealed. “Seems he wants you to live forever…”
“Baby, it’s going to be okay.” Johnny’s voice was high and nervous.
“Since you’re bringing me such a special gift, I agreed.” The vampire’s breath was hot on her cheek. Vampires weren’t cold, despite the stories that she’d heard. They were hot. Too hot. As if they’d just stepped out of hell.
Her gaze frantically tried to find Johnny. He had to stop the vamp. This—this couldn’t happen.
“It’s going to be okay,” Johnny said again, but his words sounded hollow, uncertain.
Johnny wasn’t usually uncertain. He was cocky, assured. He was the one—the only one who’d ever cared about her. He was—
Fangs tore into her throat. The bite hurt so much, and she could feel her blood spurting out. The vampire was gulping and laughing as she fought him.
Johnny didn’t help her.
“Relax, Ginny.”
Johnny was the only one who called her Ginny.
“You’ll live forever, baby. You’ll change, then you’ll change me and we’ll both have eternity…and a fat load of cash to keep us riding high.”
She clawed out with her nails. But the vampire wasn’t letting her go. Johnny wasn’t helping her. Her neck was wet, her shirt was wet and she was—
Sprawled, on the ground. Her body was twitching, and she couldn’t stop those wild trembles. She couldn’t lift her hands or roll her body over. She could only stare above her. He was there, grinning down at her. Their employer. The vampire who’d just fed on her. “Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?”
Yes, yes it did.
She tried to speak again but only managed a weak moan.
“This will make it all better.” He shoved his wrist to her mouth. She attempted to turn away, but he just held her locked in a grip that threatened to shatter her jaw.
Then…there was nothing. The vampire backed away. She kept staring straight up. She didn’t hear Johnny anymore. Didn’t hear his lies about how everything was going to be okay.
She was staring at the back of the cathedral, and she could see the Jesus shadow back there. The arms were reaching up to the sky.
And death—death was reaching for her.
Chapter Seven
When Jane arrived at the Saint Louis Cathedral, she expected to see the flash of police lights. She thought uniformed officers would be waiting. That police tape would be up.
But…there was nothing.
Aidan crept behind her as she advanced. The cathedral wasn’t open for visitors, not then. Jackson Square was closed down for the night. The area was dark and quiet—almost tomb-like. This isn’t right. Her hand reached for her gun as she began to slip down Pirate’s Alley, the narrow street that slid along the side of the cathedral. If you could even call it a street. More like an old pathway left over from days long gone. One tied to myth and legend. Ghost stories.
But she wasn’t looking for ghosts that night.
She was looking for her victim.
And the whole set up was making her nervous.
“I smell blood.” Aidan’s voice was a bare whisper in her ear. She shivered. She didn’t smell blood but if the werewolf said he did…
“A lot of it,” Aidan added.
Hell. She couldn’t keep inching along when someone was up there, hurt. Why weren’t other cops out there?
Her grip on the gun tightened as Jane made her way to the back of the cathedral and then—then she saw the body. A woman. Curled on the ground¸ with a heavy pool of darkness beneath her. Not darkness, blood. That’s blood.
The woman was alone. No cops. No Good Samaritan who’d supposedly called in the attack. Nothing.
And she was— “I think she’s still alive!” Jane said. Because she’d seen the faintest movement of that woman’s chest. At that sign, Jane leapt forward even as Aidan called out sharply behind her. She didn’t stop, though. She ran fast toward the fallen woman and when she got closer—
Her neck. Oh, God.
The woman was choking on blood. Her lips were moving as she tried to speak, and her eyes were wide open. Those eyes immediately locked on Jane when she crouched next to the woman.
“It’s going to be all right,” Jane told her. Oh, jeez, that was such a lie. The woman was bleeding out right in front of her. Jane put down her gun
and pressed her fingers over the gaping wound that was the woman’s throat. You were supposed to apply pressure in situations like this one, right? Supposed to apply pressure and try to stop the blood flow.
Why isn’t an ambulance here? Why isn’t someone else here?
“Aidan!” Jane yelled. She didn’t see him. The werewolf had been right behind her, but he wasn’t there now. “Aidan, I need you! Call an ambulance!”
He didn’t answer. Shit. She kept one hand on the woman’s throat. The woman—that choking sound the lady made was horrifying. The victim was struggling so desperately to live. Fumbling, Jane pulled out her phone and dialed for an ambulance. The phone clicked and the operator picked up. “I need an ambulance,” Jane began. “I’m Detective Jane Hart, badge number three-three-two-eight—”
Something hit her. Not something, someone. Hard and fast. The phone flew from her hand and shattered on the pavement and Jane slammed into the pavement a second after it. She rolled, spinning, and found herself staring down the barrel of her own gun.
“Hello, Detective Hart,” said the asshole holding her gun. A stocky, shaggy-haired guy who had just made the top of her enemy list. “I was waiting for you.”
His fingers began to tighten around the trigger.
***
Aidan’s claws had burst from his fingertips. His teeth had sharpened, and every instinct he possessed was screaming one thing.
Kill. Destroy.
A vampire was close by, and Aidan’s beast had sensed the bastard. He could smell the male, could catch the scent of blood and death that clung to him. Aidan knew exactly why the leech had come out that night—
You want Jane.
Too fucking bad. Because Aidan had decided he wanted her, too.
So while Jane rushed to help the victim, Aidan turned to follow the vampire’s scent. Every step he took had him sliding away from the cathedral. Away from Jane. And toward the vampire. And every step…it made the man he was lose more control. The beast was reacting too strongly to the vamp. The beast knew its job, knew its instincts.
A vamp was close.
Kill or be killed.
Aidan was the law in that city. He was supposed to be in control, always. And vamps weren’t supposed to be turning this city into a fucking blood bath.