Chapter Ten
Hell’s Gate was dead silent. Aidan marched across the club and went straight to the bar. Jane paced behind him, but stopped in the middle of the cavernous room. She watched as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a short, thick glass. He downed that whiskey in one gulp and then poured more. “Aidan…” Jane began, edging a bit closer. His mood was volatile—hell, that was a serious understatement. The whole bar felt heavy and tense, a tenseness that was emanating from Aidan.
He drained the second glass and set it back on the bar with a thunk. “That didn’t help.” His gaze locked on her. His eyes were so bright. “I’m still thirsty.”
Something was different about Aidan. Darker. His features seemed harder and when he looked at her, the expression in his eyes was almost desperate.
His gaze slid over her face. Down to her throat. And that stare of his seemed to burn even more.
“I need a taste, Jane,” Aidan whispered.
“A taste?” Her own voice came out too high pitched.
He put his hands down on the bar, then leapt right over it. He stalked toward her. Stalked. Definitely the right description for his slow, steady movements. “A taste of you.”
Jane shook her head. “Captain Harris will be coming soon. She’ll—”
“Not yet, she won’t. It’s just you and it’s me.” His hand rose and his fingers curled along the column of her neck. “I need a taste.” His words were growled. And when he spoke, she saw his fangs.
Vampire fangs.
He pulled her closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest. All kinds of warnings were going off in her head as she stared up at him. Handle with extreme care. At the cemetery, she’d been aware of just how fragile his control had been. If she hadn’t been with him, Jane feared he would have killed Roth. Sure, the guy was an asshole, but did Roth deserve to have his throat ripped out for that crime?
His fingers stroked her neck. “Let me taste you, Jane.”
“Aidan…”
His head bent. His lips brushed over hers. It was a careful kiss. She hadn’t expected that care. His mood was so volatile, his darkness so close to the surface, that she’d expected a rough claiming from his mouth. Hard. Domination.
Not seduction. But he was seducing her. With his mouth and his tongue. His kiss was so careful, so tender, and Jane found herself leaning toward him. This was Aidan. Her Aidan. Fate kept trying to tear them apart, but Jane wasn’t going to let that happen. He was the one thing that had always felt right in her messed-up world.
He was the one person who made her feel right.
His mouth feathered over her jaw, then slowly moved down her neck. Jane’s head tipped back and a moan slipped from her throat. He always knew just how to touch her. Always knew exactly—
His fangs sank into her throat. There was no pain, just pleasure, a white-hot lash that had her whole body tensing. Her hands rose and curled around his broad shoulders, but she didn’t push him away. Her nails sank into his shirt as she pulled him even closer.
He was drinking her blood. He was tasting her…
And she loved it.
Her breasts tightened as need spiraled inside of her. Not some soft, gentle need. Lust. Dirty, hot lust. Her sex ached and her panties got wet. She rocked her hips against him, wanting to be closer.
His bite—it was doing something to her. She was rubbing her body against his like a freaking cat in heat, and Jane couldn’t stop herself. She wanted her clothes gone, and she wanted him to fuck her. Right then. Right there. She didn’t care where they were. She didn’t care if anyone walked straight in on them. She needed Aidan.
Her breath panted out. “Aidan!”
He locked his hands around her hips and lifted her up. He whirled and put her down on top of the bar, then he pushed between her spread legs. His cock was full, shoving hard against the front of his jeans. Her trembling fingers jerked at the button on his jeans and she pulled down the zipper. That hiss was loud in the bar, but not as loud as the frantically drumming heartbeat that echoed in her ears.
Want him. Need him.
Her own fangs were out. Her breasts were tight peaks. She wanted Aidan to lick them. Wanted him to lick her—everywhere.
Pleasure. No more pain. That was what she wanted with him. Always with him.
Her hand curled around his cock. It was thick and hot in her hand. She squeezed him and—
“Jane.” He’d pulled his mouth from her neck. He stared down at her, and she lost her breath as she stared at him. Aidan looked as if he wanted to devour her.
Staring into his eyes, she stroked him again, a long pump from the base of his cock to the head of his erection.
His jaw tightened. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Good.” She needed him inside her. She needed—
“I’m going to own you.” His voice was dark and rough as he grabbed her shirt and wrenched it up. His claws sliced through her bra and his mouth locked on one aching breast. Jane’s head tipped back as she gave a wild cry.
In me. I need him in me—
“Just as you own me,” Aidan rasped against her. Then his hand was at the snap of her jeans. He moved fast—that wonderful paranormal speed—and she was suddenly naked on the bar top. He pulled her closer, and he smiled at her.
But…
That smile was more beast than man.
His fingers pushed between her legs. “Wet for me.”
She was dying for him right now. His bite had sent her body into an overdrive of yearning. She was about to start clawing at him if he didn’t thrust inside of her. The ache was constant. She needed him to fill her. She needed him to fuck her into oblivion.
The desire wasn’t normal. In some distant part of her mind, she knew that. Too intense. Too fast. Too consuming. But—
Screw normal.
Aidan yanked her to the edge of the bar. It was cold and hard beneath her and Jane squirmed—but her movements stopped when he bent over her and he…
He licked her. Kissed her. Stroked her sex and just fed that mad need that was about to rip her apart. Her hands slapped down on the bar as her body trembled.
“Fucking delicious,” Aidan whispered. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes. “Fucking mine.”
And he was hers. Soul deep. Good and bad. Always…hers.
He positioned his cock at the entrance to her body, and he sank deep. A hard thrust that stole her breath and was exactly what she wanted. In the next instant, he’d pulled her right off the bar. He held her easily in his arms, so damn easily, and her legs locked around him. She rose on him, sank down, again and again, going wild with the feel of him inside of her. His mouth pressed to her throat once again. His fangs sank into her and as he tasted her, she felt his cock swell even more inside of her.
It was too much—his bite, the deep thrust of his cock into her—Jane’s orgasm hit, driving her over the edge and she screamed his name. It wasn’t some blast of pleasure, it consumed her. Shaking her, trembling through her whole body. She squeezed her eyes shut, she fought to get a breath, and the pleasure lashed against her.
Her sex squeezed him, hard and tight, and she felt him erupt inside of her. The hot splash of his release that just fueled her own climax. His grip hardened on her, he kept drinking from her, and Jane was utterly lost—taken.
His completely in that moment, just as he was hers.
She tried to get her heartbeat to slow. Tried to get her breath to ease. But…
I still want him. I want more. The need—that dark, twisting need that he’d awakened in her—wasn’t gone. He licked her throat and then his head lifted. Jane forced her lashes to rise as she stared up at him.
He was still hard inside of her. He’d come, but, like her…
He wants more.
He gazed down at her, not speaking. Jane licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry. Just how much screaming and moaning had she been doing?
He slowly lowered her to the floor and pulled out of her. She gasped at that withdrawal, hating it because…
I wasn’t done.
“Don’t worry, baby,” His voice was a rough rasp that just made her ache more. “I’m not done.”
She couldn’t look away from his gaze. I can see his darkness. I can feel it all around me.
But…Jane wasn’t scared.
“Turn around,” Aidan ordered.
She turned around, moving to face the bar. A mirror was behind that bar, reflecting her image back to Jane. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes gleamed, and her hair was tousled around her head. She could see her breasts, the pink tips were thrusting forward, still aroused. Still desperate for more.
“Put your hands on the bar.”
Her hands flattened on the bar.
“The vamp in me had you his way.” His voice was so rough. So deep.
The vamp in me…He’d just admitted what he was. She should say something. Do something—
“Now…” He caught her hair in his hand and pulled it to the side, baring the curve of her right shoulder. He pressed a kiss there and she felt the hot caress of his breath on her skin. “Now it’s the wolf’s turn.”
Her breath hitched. She felt his cock against her ass.
“Lean forward more,” he told her.
She leaned forward. His hand slid around her body and his fingers stroked her breast. She arched into his touch, wanting so much more.
“Spread your legs.”
She did.
“Wider.”
She loved the dark rumble of his voice. Her gaze was on the mirror. On him, on them, as he leaned over her.
His hand slid down her body, moving to her sex.
“So ready, soft and slick.” His breath feathered over her once more. “Do you know…what it means when a werewolf marks his lover right…” He kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met. “Here?”
Jane shook her head. She couldn’t look away from their reflection in that glass. He’d bit her there before. Had that been a marking?
“Biting here means the werewolf has his mate. It’s a claiming. A marking. One that goes far beneath the skin and straight to the soul.”
Jane swallowed. His cock pushed against her. His fingers slid over her clit, stroking her arousal to a fever pitch once again.
“You already have my soul, Jane.” He pressed a kiss to her skin even as his fingers kept stroking, harder now, and Jane rose onto her tip-toes with a gasp. Another climax was building, so close. So—
“You have my soul, my heart, and every fucking bit of darkness in me.” He nipped her. Not a vampire bite. Different. Rougher. A flash of quick pain caught her off-guard. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at his reflection.
His head lifted and he stared at her in the mirror. A smile—slightly cruel and wolfish—curled his lips. “Can you handle me? All of me?”
Before she could answer, his hand slid away from her clit. She was left on the edge of her orgasm, every muscle in her body tight and quivering. “Aidan!”
He lifted up her hips and he drove his cock into her sex, plunged balls deep. Her hands fisted over the bar top. “Can you?” Aidan demanded, voice nearly that of a stranger. Too rough.
She kept staring into the mirror. Staring at him. “I can…” Her breath panted. “I can handle everything you’ve got.”
He smiled.
Then he bit her. No, marked her. Because this bite was different. His teeth clamped over the curve of her shoulder as he withdrew, then thrust deep. He took her frantically, driving fast over and over, and Jane wasn’t on the edge of her orgasm any longer. The climax slammed into her, rolling through her whole body and she shuddered again and again.
Her sex contracted around his cock, but he didn’t come, didn’t slow, didn’t stop. If anything, his thrusts became harder. He was growling behind her, rough, animalistic sounds. And when his hands slapped down on the bar near hers—when he caged her there with his body—she saw his claws.
The beast was out. And he was claiming his mate.
Only fair. I’m claiming him, too.
Her hands grabbed his. Locked with his. And Jane was stunned to see claws burst from the tips of her fingers. “Aidan!”
He slammed into her, lifting her up with the force of his thrusts. Her orgasm kept sweeping through her, and every thrust just had the pleasure surging hotter. Her body was so sensitive now, so completely tuned to his.
They were moving together, a rhythm that was too wild and fast but somehow seemed utterly perfect. She wanted that moment to last forever, for the pleasure to never end, but Aidan plunged into her once more, a thrust that took her completely off her feet, and then he roared her name as he came.
This climax hit her harder, sharper, and Jane gasped as her body fell forward. Her head sagged and her drumming heartbeat echoed around her.
She licked her lips, swallowed twice, and finally managed to say, “Aidan?”
He nuzzled her neck.
She stared at their hands. Her claws were gone, his weren’t.
“I love you, Jane.” His voice was still rough, slightly ragged at the edges. But it was definitely the voice of a man, not a beast. “Whatever happens, whatever comes…remember that.”
She lifted their entwined fingers to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love you.” She didn’t like those “whatever happens” sort of talks. They usually meant bad things were coming.
Something so bad that it would tear them apart. Her eyes squeezed shut, as if she could hide from the truth, for just a moment. “Nothing bad is going to happen.” The words slipped from her, almost like a child, trying to fight the dark.
A low laugh rumbled from him. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t you see? I am the bad thing.”
Ice brushed across her heart.
***
Annette sat on the old, dusty floor. Paris was just a few feet away from her, sleeping now, but still chained. Bags of blood—Aidan’s blood—were in the ice chest at her side.
“Uh, Ms. Benoit?” Garrison shifted nervously from foot to foot. “What else can I do to help?”
She glanced at him. “You didn’t attack Paris when you arrived. I figure that’s more than enough help.” And he’d brought the blood back. A definite good deed that she would see he was rewarded for completing. The redheaded wolf had just found his way to her good side, though most folks swore she didn’t actually have a good side.
She did. It was just well hidden most days.
“I don’t…I don’t want to attack him.”
His words made her head jerk toward him. Garrison rubbed his throat. “His scent…it’s been changing since I got here. He doesn’t smell like other vamps anymore.”
That was good, wasn’t it? A sign that Aidan’s alpha blood might be helping Paris? “What does he smell like?” Because she had no clue. All she could smell right then was the scents of blood and mildew.
Garrison inched a bit closer. Did he know that she had a gun loaded with silver bullets in her bag? If he was lying to her and the guy was about to go for Paris’s throat, she would be stopping him.
No one was going to take Paris away.
The force of her attachment to Paris was…frightening.
“He smells…like Paris.”
Her brows rose.
“The scent of the wolf is there,” Garrison mumbled, frowning. “Woodsy, wild. There’s another scent clinging to him, now, too, though.” He inhaled deeply. “Apples.” He shook his head. “Jane always smells like apples. And lavender.”
Annette stiffened. Jane always smells like apples. She shoved her hand into her bag and brought up her knife.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Garrison stammered. “And what the hell all do you have in that bag?”
Everything I need. Paris was out cold, so she grabbed his wrist and sliced him.
“Stop!” Garrison shot toward her. He caught her hand and pulled her away from Paris. “Don’t you hurt him!”
She wasn’t going to hurt him, not anymore. “I got what I needed.”
“For him to bleed?” Garrison’s cheeks were nearly as red as his hair.
“Yes,” Annette said simply. Then she handed him the knife. “Take this to the ME, Dr. Bob Heider. Make him run his tests on the blood. Tell him I know he ran a test when Paris first woke, but he needs to examine this sample.” Because if Paris’s scent was changing, then maybe other things were, too. She thought quickly, then said, “Get him to compare this blood to Jane’s.” Because she knew he kept samples of Jane’s blood on hand.
Jane’s blood.
Aidan’s blood.
Carefully, Garrison took the knife from her. “Shouldn’t I like…bag this or something?”
Annette rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a crime show, wolf. I don’t have freaking plastic bags on me.” They weren’t included in the everything she had contained in her oversized purse. The purse was for her weapons and her magic. She generally left science to others. “Just be careful with the knife. Move as fast as you can and get that blood to Dr. Heider.”
Garrison nodded and made his way to the door, moving with slow, mincing steps.
Her breath huffed out. “You can go a bit faster than that!” Her gaze stayed locked on him until he left the back room and then…
Awareness slowly edged up her spine. Her gaze slid back to Paris. A very awake Paris.
Oh, damn. Annette glanced at the floor. The line of dirt still circled him. Good. She would just make absolutely sure not to pass that line again. When I sliced his hand, I passed it. Foolish mistake. But she’d had to know…
His nostrils flared and his gaze slowly slipped over her face. When his lips parted, she caught sight of his fangs.
“Don’t even think about it,” Annette whispered. “I’m not on your menu.”
But he smiled at her. “Love, you are the menu.” Then he leapt to his feet and charged right at her. The chain that fed into the top of the wall broke—the stupid chain that had been manacling both his wrists—as he lunged to attack. So much for the new chain Vincent had brought to use.
In the face of Paris’s attack, Annette didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t back away. She waited.
Paris slammed into the invisible force field created by the dirt of the dead and by her power. He howled. The sound was very, very wolf-like. So his beast is still there. Good to know. She’d been afraid that his wolf was dead.
Not so.
“What…is…happening?” Paris yelled. He shoved his hand against a wall that was there—one he couldn’t see.
“You’re being restrained,” Annette told him simply. “Until you’re more…yourself.”
He snarled.
She picked up a bag of blood and tossed it to him. The blood sailed right over the line of dirt. “Drink up,” Annette urged him. “Because I need my Paris back.”
Greedily, he grabbed the bag. He tore into it with those razor sharp teeth and started to guzzle the blood. He guzzled and guzzled and… “Don’t watch me,” Paris whispered.
She stiffened.
His gaze held hers. “It…shames me.”
That was her Paris talking. He was coming back. Bit by bit. “You don’t need to be ashamed with me.” She reached for another bag and tossed it toward him.
He caught it. Still stared at her.
“It’s going to be okay,” Annette whispered to him.
But Paris gave a sad shake of his head. “No…now I’ll never be good…enough for you.”
Her heart hurt. “You are good enough. Monster or man, it doesn’t matter to me.” It had never mattered. “But next time, don’t be so slow making your move, got it? You want something, you want someone, you act.” Because life was too fragile. Too quick. And even her magic couldn’t stop all the bad things in the world. “Paris…” Annette sighed his name. “I won’t let you go.” That was her shame. That she needed him so much, that she’d come to care for him so much, that she would make any deal, use any dark trick, to keep him with her. I won’t lose you to death.
No matter what it took.
***
Garrison rushed into the ME’s new lab, and when the doc saw him—
Dr. Heider jumped to his feet and put his hands into the air. “Don’t hurt me!”
Garrison frowned at the guy, but then he realized Heider was staring at the bloody knife he gripped in his hand. Humans. “The voodoo queen told me to bring you this.” He dropped the knife onto the doc’s desk. “It’s got Paris’s blood on it, and she wanted you to test it.”
Heider inched closer to the knife. “Test it? I ran exams on Paris’s blood earlier. The results were clear…the guy’s a vamp.”
Garrison’s jaw hardened. “Run new tests. Using this sample.”
“It’s probably contaminated to hell and back.” Heider sniffed. “I mean, you were just running around town with the sample…”
Garrison growled. He might not be an alpha, but he was still a wolf. “Run the tests.”
“Right, tests.” Heider nodded. “But it’s not like the results will change. Not like someone can go back from being a vamp.” Hider pulled on a pair of gloves.
“Annette also said…” Garrison cleared his throat. “She wants you to compare the results to Jane’s blood.”
Heider hesitated. “Got to say, at this point, I’m surprised Paris actually still has a head. I would’ve thought the guy would be well on his way to the afterlife by now.”
Garrison growled once more. “Careful, doc. That’s my pack member you’re talking about. But, yeah, he’s still got his head.” And Garrison wanted the guy to keep it. He liked Paris. Paris was his friend, and Garrison didn’t have enough of those.
Heider’s gloved fingers gingerly picked up the knife. “A vampire killed your family,” he said as he turned away from Garrison. “Shouldn’t you hate them all?”
“I do hate the vamp who took my parents.” Rage would always twist in him when he thought of that bastard. “But that guy is nothing but ash now. He can’t hurt anyone.”
Heider was taking some samples from the knife.
“I don’t hate all vamps.” The words just seemed to slip from Garrison. “I don’t hate Jane.” He couldn’t hate her. As for Paris…“Like I told you, Paris is pack.”
Heider was silent as he ran his tests. Garrison just stood there, shifting a bit from foot to foot and glancing at the body bag to his left. Why the hell would anyone want to work with the dead all day?
“You haven’t felt the urge to attack Paris?” Heider’s voice drifted to him.
Garrison rubbed the back of his neck. “At…at first, I could feel my beast and he wasn’t happy but…but the more blood that Paris took, the better it got.”
Heider glanced up from his microscope. “Blood?”
“Yeah, he’s been drinking the bagged blood that Aidan had. I think the alpha’s blood is really helping him,” Garrison added. “He looks better and he…seems saner.”
“Alpha blood.” Heider peered back through the lens of his microscope.
“It can cure anything,” Garrison murmured.
But Heider stiffened. “No, it can’t cure anything.” He looked over at Garrison. “Where is Jane now?”
“With Aidan.”
“Of course, she is. Because Jane doesn’t see the danger with him. She thinks she can trust him…” Heider made a long hmmmp sound. “Will she still be trusting him when he tries to rip out her throat?”
“That’s not going to happen!” Garrison glared at the guy. “Aidan loves her.” He’d seen the way his alpha looked at Jane.
“Love and obsession can often be confused, especially by someone like Aidan.”
The doc was pissing him off. Garrison’s hands fisted and he took a menacing step toward Heider.
“Easy, wolf,” Heider spoke quickly. “I’m not the enemy.”
“Then who the hell is?” Garrison demanded. “I need to know. We all need to know exactly who we’re facing.” So they could take the bastard out. He advanced on the doc. “What do you see in his blood? Can you figure out which vamp it was that changed him?”
He saw the doc’s Adam’s apple bob. “Yes, I think I’ve figured that part out.”
Garrison waited.
The doc didn’t say more. He did pull out more slides and put them under his microscope.
“Uh, want to clue me in? Who’s the enemy?” Who did Garrison need to kill? Because he was more than ready to fight in order to protect his friends.
Dr. Bob took off his glasses and set them—very carefully—on the table. “Jane.” His voice was soft, and his expression had turned ashen. “It’s…Jane.” He stared at Garrison in growing alarm. “I think she’ll be the end of you all.”