Chapter Seventeen
Annette stared down into her mirror once again. Aidan would find the other alpha, of that, she had no doubt. And Aidan was strong enough to win the battle, but…
But that isn’t how I see it ending.
Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into the mirror. No, no, no!
The images tore through her mind and she jumped to her feet. She had to get to Aidan. Had to stop him. Annette grabbed her car keys and raced outside.
And she slammed straight into the vampire who’d been waiting for her. Not that he looked like a vampire. He was tall, handsome, dressed expensively. His hair was perfectly styled, his body strong and—
And when I look at him, I know exactly what he is…because I saw him in my visions. I saw him die on a Viking ship.
“Annette Benoit,” he murmured, his voice smooth and rich and deep. He gave her a little bow. “I have to say, I’m honored to meet you.”
Annette jerked out the wooden stake that she kept in her bag, for emergencies just like this one. “I’m not so honored.” She shoved the stake against his chest.
He…didn’t stop her.
The stake cut through his skin. Blood soaked his shirt.
But she didn’t drive the stake down into his heart. He wasn’t fighting her, and that was just…wrong.
“Wrong,” Annette whispered, the word settling deep within her. Something was wrong.
“I like my heart, old and battered though it may be,” the vampire said. “So how about we just leave it where it is?” Carefully, his fingers closed around her wrist and he eased the stake out of his chest. “Thank you.”
Her temples were pounding. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. And since my witch isn’t close enough to help me figure things out…I thought you might be able to take her place.”
Annette’s eyes narrowed on him.
“Jane can’t take blood. When she tries, she just vomits it up.” His voice roughened, belying his controlled appearance. “And every moment that passes without her getting blood, well, it’s a moment that drives her closer to the edge. Soon, there won’t be any sane thought for her. She’d slip over that thin line that separates good and evil, and Jane will be lost, just like so many other vamps have lost themselves to the bloodlust.”
Annette shivered.
“Jane has to take blood. It is a simple matter of survival for her. But she has to be controlled when she does it. Taking a life when you first drink…that’s the tipping point for vampires. The darkness grows within them after that act, and there is no stopping it from consuming their souls.”
Her breath heaved out. “But Jane can’t take blood.”
“No…no, she’s starving and we have to find a way to help her.” The faint lines near his mouth tightened. “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. But Jane…something is different.”
Wrong. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Where is Jane now?”
“She’s safe. Don’t worry. I left her chained up.”
She flinched.
“She’s in an old building near the St. Louis Cemetery. She won’t hurt anyone, not as long as she stays chained up.”
St. Louis Cemetery.
Aidan was going to that cemetery. Oh, hell.
“She won’t stay chained up long,” Annette announced. “She’ll break loose.” She grabbed the vampire. “You’ve been using your witch’s magic to vanish?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then use it now. Get us to Jane, as fast as you can.” Before it was too late.
***
Quint Laurel smiled at his prey. The police captain was spread out, her blood still seeping from her wounds, as she lay before the old crypt. The blond reporter—Sarah Steele was sobbing, too terrified of him to move.
Soon, the whole world would be terrified.
“You’re going to film me,” he told the reporter. Then there would be no denying what he was. The humans would all understand. He motioned to the phone in her hands. The woman was so far gone, a freaking wreck, that she hadn’t even thought to call for help. Not that he would have let her but…still, her fear was incredibly gratifying. It was like she was his puppet on a string. Pull that string, pull it. “You’ll record every moment. Then you’ll show it on the news. You’ll show the world.”
“Please,” the news anchor whispered as heavy tracks of mascara bled down her cheeks. “Let us go. Just let us go.”
“No.” Then he turned back to the cop. The bitch who’d dared to call him a coward. He let his claws out as he closed in on her. She gave a low moan when he approached, and Quint smiled. A moan meant she was conscious. A moan meant she was about to feel all the pain he would give to her. “I think I’ll start with your face,” he decided. “Women can be so vain. Let’s take that pretty face away first.” He lifted his claws.
But…but she moved. She was bleeding heavily, but she lunged up at him and she sliced into his stomach. His blood pumped out. “What the—”
“Did you think…” she panted, “you were…the only one?” Her hand lifted and he saw claws sprouting from her fingertips. “Think…fucking…again…”
Quint stumbled back. “No.” He put his hand to his stomach. “No.” Thatch had tried to tell him some bullshit about there being other werewolves in town, when Quint had made the mistake of flashing his claws at the guy one drunk night. Thatch had heard tales…tales about wolves going into Hell’s Gate, but Quint had gone there and seen nothing.
No one else is like me. I’m the power. I’m special. I am everything.
“Yes.” Vivian Harris dragged her body upright. “There are more…and you…you broke our laws. Werewolf laws. Human laws.” Her eyes seemed to glow. “You will die. The alpha is coming. He will come…for me.”
“The who? The fucking what?” Quint surged toward her but she slashed him again—right across the face. He howled in pain.
Vivian laughed, the sound pain-filled and mocking. “Now…who’s the vain bitch?”
Rage nearly blinded Quint as he jumped on her.
And—
He heard another howl split the night.
***
She was so hungry. Thirsty. Pain burned through her constantly, and Jane just wanted that savagery to end.
This wasn’t living. This was hell.
Her mind was trapped in chaos. The need to feed controlled her. Her lips were swollen, raw, and—
A howl.
Jane stiffened. She’d just heard a howl. Aidan’s howl. She knew the sound of his wolf. Her nostrils flared and she caught the scent of blood in the air. Only…it wasn’t human blood.
Werewolf blood.
Jane began to salivate. She yanked at the chains that bound her. Jerked again and again. The scent of that blood grew stronger. Her need burned hotter.
Her wrist broke—the right wrist. She kept jerking against her bonds. Harder. Harder.
The chain snapped free from the wall. Her broken right wrist slipped from the manacle and she shattered the manacle that had bound her left wrist. Then Jane looked at the chains around her ankles.
I need that blood.
Snarling, she locked her fingers around those chains. She pulled and pulled and pulled—
Free. The chains broke. Jane stood there, breath heaving, fingers broken. Blood covered her ankles and her hands.
Her nostrils twitched. The werewolves are close.
And she liked the way they smelled.
Jane straightened. She was still wearing his coat. Aidan’s coat. His scent was on her. She pulled the coat closer. Zipped it up her body. The jacket fell to the top of her thighs, shielding her nakedness. Her bare toes slid across the dirty floor as she crept forward.
I’m free now.
Get the blood.
Get the werewolves.
Free.
Jane started running.
***
“Get the fuck away from her,” Aidan roared.
The young alpha froze, his body crouched over Vivian’s. Then, in the next instant, he whipped around, staring at Aidan in shock.
“You’ve got my pack member there.” Rage pumped through Aidan’s body. “You dared to hurt her?”
The soon-to-be-dead bastard laughed. “Who the hell are you?”
Aidan rushed toward him. He slammed his body into the younger wolf’s—had to be freaking Quint Laurel—and Aidan put his claws to the guy’s throat. “I’m the alpha of this town, and you’re the bastard I’m here to put down.”
But Quint was strong. He laughed up at Aidan…and began to shift beneath him.
Like that’s supposed to impress me. “Get Vivian to safety!” Aidan bellowed, knowing Paris would obey. Aidan hadn’t come to that cemetery alone. “And get the human out of here!” The blond woman just stood there, watching them, a phone in her hands as she filmed the scene. Quint had probably put her under his control, using his power to manipulate her. “Erase that fucking video!”
Paris scooped Vivian into his arms.
Garrison curled his hand around the blond woman’s shoulder. “Why don’t you give me that…?” He took the phone from her.
And Aidan…he let his own beast take control. I want to kill. I want to destroy. I want to rip this bastard apart. Because Aidan was being torn apart. Ripped apart by his own emotions. The needs that just wouldn’t stop.
Jane.
His claws burst out and his wolf took over.
***
“That was…” Annette drew in a steadying breath as the world stopped spinning around her. “Not a way I ever want to travel again.” She jerked away from the vampire. “Which building?”
He pointed straight ahead. She ran inside the old BDSM club. Maybe she’d been there a time or two before, back in the place’s heyday.
“In the back,” Vincent said, “last room on the right.”
“Jane!” Annette called. “Jane, I want to help you!”
But…when she rushed into that last room on the right, Jane wasn’t there. Bloody manacles were on the floor, but Jane was gone. Annette staggered to a stop. The vampire thudded into her back.
“Go find her,” Annette whispered. “Hurry. Find her.” Before Aidan does.
***
Jane’s bare feet pounded over the pavement. That powerful blood was in the air, calling to her. A heavy, stone fence waited just feet away—Jane ran forward and leapt right over the fence. When she landed, she crouched and looked around the cemetery. Her nostrils twitched.
To the left. Go. Left. Jane bounded forward, darting around crypts and then—then she came face to face with her prey.
Paris held Vivian in his arms. Vivian was bleeding. So much blood. So much sweet blood.
Jane’s teeth snapped together.
“Oh, hell, no,” Garrison muttered from behind Paris. “Tell me she’s not all vamped up.”
Jane wanted to talk to them. To tell them all to run but…
There’s so much blood. And it smells incredible.
She crept toward her prey. Paris had gone statue-still. “Jane,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I don’t think you can.
Her hand reached for Vivian. She licked her lips.
“Jane…” Vivian’s weak voice. “Jane…h-help me…”
She doesn’t know what I am.
Vivian thought Jane was still just her friend.
I’m about to feed on my friend. No, no, no.
“Get…her away…” Jane rasped, then she turned and fled even deeper into the heart of that cemetery. This is the city of the dead. This is where I belong. I can’t attack. I can’t drink. I should be dead.
Dead.
She ran faster, aware that she was crying, her chest shuddering. She pounded on her chest, wanting to stop the terrible pain that she felt, wanting it all to end. As she should have ended when her brother shot her.
She darted around another crypt.
Howls penetrated the chaos of her thoughts. Terrible, frenzied howls.
Jane saw two beasts. One was a big, black wolf…with blue eyes that were forever burned into her memory.
The other beast…it was smaller, a white wolf with pale green eyes. As she stared at it, the white wolf slowly turned toward her. It sniffed the air, as if confused, and then its eyes lit with a killing fury.
Aidan always said…a werewolf has a primal instinct to kill a vampire.
That wolf coming toward her…it was going to kill her.
He’s the other alpha. She was having moments of sanity—desperate moments pushing through that wild, driving bloodlust that twisted her mind. The other alpha will kill me…that way, Aidan doesn’t have to do the dark deed. He won’t have my death on his conscience. He won’t carry that guilt forever.
She stretched her hands out at her sides. The white wolf was bounding toward her. Its heavy jaws were hanging open, and saliva dripped from his razor sharp teeth. This was the beast she’d been hunting. This was the beast who would kill her.
She could welcome her end. Her death would stop Aidan’s pain. It would stop her own pain.
Jane started to close her eyes.
But…
Screw this. I’m not ready. The wolf leapt for her and Jane caught him around the neck. Her strength surprised her. She held that wolf easily. She lifted him up—
And Jane drove her fangs past his fur and into his neck. The wolf let out a terrible cry—a scream of pain, a howl of fury—and he thrashed in her hold, but Jane held him fast. And she drank.
His blood is hot and rich. I like it.
And she wasn’t vomiting it up. His blood was flowing over her tongue and she just wanted to keep taking. Taking and taking and taking until nothing is left.
Jane shoved the wolf away from her, throwing him into the stone wall of a nearby crypt. “But I’m…not…a…killer.” Her breath heaved out. Each word was a struggle but she did it. She spoke. She fought the bloodlust. She won. “You’re…under…arrest…”
The white wolf leapt back to his feet. He shook his head. His blood had darkened his white coat. He pushed back onto his hind legs and hurtled into the air, coming right at her.
Because obviously, you want some more, huh, bastard?
But Aidan collided with him. The two wolves hit in a tangle of limbs. They rolled, clawing and biting and fighting with a savagery that she’d never witnessed before. They were strong. They were powerful. They were—
Aidan sank his teeth into the other wolf’s throat, right in the same spot she’d attacked. Only Aidan hadn’t gone for some little bite.
Jane sucked in a sharp breath as she stared at the scene before her.
Aidan ripped out the other wolf’s throat.
The heavy, coppery scent of blood flooded her nose again. And this time…I can smell death. It’s coming. Jane watched as the black wolf backed away from his prey. The white wolf slowly shifted, his fur melting away from his body. Soon a man was on the ground where the wolf had been. A man struggling to take a breath. Wheezing on the ground.
I was like that. So desperate to live.
Jane took a step toward him.
The black wolf spun to confront her, snarling.
Jane lifted her hands. “Easy.”
The black wolf stalked toward her—no, Aidan stalked toward her. Jane didn’t retreat. She locked her knees and stood before him.
Behind him, Quint Laurel wasn’t struggling to breathe any longer. He was sprawled on the ground, his body spread before a crypt, slashed and broken, just as he’d left his victims.
“Jane, get away from him!”
Her head jerked to the right. She saw Vincent running toward her. Annette was right behind him. Jane blinked. How had those two gotten together? “I kept the blood down,” she whispered. She should be revolted. She was but…
But I’m in control now. I can think semi-clearly. And I don’t want to hurt Aidan.
So she didn’t run…running would have just made his hunting instincts even stronger. If she ran, he’d attack. He was moving toward her so slowly. His head was low to the ground, his body tense.
“Aidan.” Jane said his name with longing. “Aidan, I’m so sorry.”
He stilled.
“I didn’t want it to be this way. I wanted to stay with you, always.” She couldn’t look away from his eyes. A man’s eyes in the face of a beast. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Do you want to hurt me? Are you thinking about ripping out my throat, just as you did to Quint Laurel?
“Jane.” Annette called her name sharply. “Jane, are you in control?”
She nodded.
“How is she in control?” Annette demanded. “Vincent, what is happening?”
“She fed.” He’d stopped a few feet away. Aidan’s head swung between Jane and Vincent. “But you didn’t kill, did you, Jane?” Vincent sounded proud. “You pulled back. You didn’t let the darkness out.”
She felt full of darkness right then. Darkness and pain and…power. It pulsed just beneath her skin.
“Her eyes glow like a wolf’s,” Annette said. “How is that possible?”
A low growl shook Aidan’s body. His focus was now completely on Vincent. Uh, oh. “He’s going to kill you,” Jane said softly. “You need to take Annette and you need to get out of here.”
“I won’t leave you,” Vincent yelled back. “I can take you both away from here. He won’t hurt you—”
“I don’t want to leave him.” That truth went straight to her soul. “I always just wanted…to be with Aidan.” And she would be with him, until the end. “I’m sorry,” she said to Aidan once more. They both knew how this story would end.
Monsters didn’t get happy endings, no matter what they wanted to pretend. It just wasn’t in the cards for them. “Go,” Jane said to Vincent and Annette. The mark on her side—that stupid burn she’d carried for so long—seemed to ache.
Vincent looped his arms around Annette. They vanished. And Aidan…he turned his glowing eyes back on Jane. She sagged to her knees. A tired smile curved her lips. Aidan crept closer to her. She lifted her arms. “Can I see you as a man? Just once more?”
The wolf stilled.
“While I enjoy your beast,” Jane murmured, “it’s the man I love. I want to see him again. Can I see him again? Please? Just once more?”
And…the wolf lowered its head. The beast’s body shuddered. He gave a pain-filled, desperate cry, one that chilled her already cold skin. The fur slid away from him, seemed to melt. Strong, muscled flesh appeared. Claws vanished and Aidan’s hands were pressed to the ground. She saw his wonderful, thick hair. And when he tilted back his head to look at her…a trembling smile curved Jane’s lips. “Hello, Aidan.”
He rose, not speaking.
Probably because he was trying not to kill her and battling his primal instincts took all of his energy.
“I have control right now,” Jane said. “I-I don’t know how long it will last, but…but I feel in control. Do you?”
He still didn’t speak, but he did take a step toward her.
“I remember trying to breathe at Tulane. Gasping. Vincent…” She remembered his hand on her throat. Jane swallowed. “One minute, I was on that campus, then suddenly, I was in that alley outside of the ME’s building. Smoke was all around. You were there. I-I bit you, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He was back in the body of a man, but his voice was definitely still beast-like.
He reached out to her. Jane didn’t flinch. She didn’t try to run. She just…knelt there. Waiting. She’d had a choice to make.
Now he had to make a choice, too. Kill me. Or love me.
“You…still smell like you’re mine,” Aidan rasped.
She wouldn’t cry. “And you still look like you’re mine. My werewolf. My Aidan.” She rose to her feet and stood on her toes. When he didn’t attack, Jane pressed her lips to his. “I wish we’d had forever.”
“I do, too.” He pulled her against him and held her tight.
She heard the rustle of footsteps behind her. Too late.
Aidan…he was distracting me. He was—
“I’m sorry, my Jane.”
She tried to yank out of his arms, but he held her too tightly. She caught a fast glimpse of Paris. He had something in his hand. Something—
He injected her.
“Told you that would come in handy,” Paris muttered.
Jane’s veins began to feel cold. Her knees buckled, but Aidan scooped her into his arms.
“I love you, Jane,” Aidan said. And it was the man talking, not the beast.
The man killed me?
Her lashes slipped closed. At least there was no pain this time. If she was dying again…
At least there is no pain.