Chapter Nine
Jane rushed toward the old BDSM club, her heart racing. She was sick to her stomach and she hated the fear that iced her veins. Aidan. Get to Aidan. Get to—
The door to the building opened and she nearly slammed right into Garrison. His eyes widened as he grabbed her arms. “Jane?”
She pushed him to the side and ran inside. She saw Annette, the woman was swiping at her cheeks. Annette—crying? Oh, that is so not good. “Where’s Aidan?” Jane demanded.
Annette jerked to attention. Her hand lifted—oh, crap, her fingers were shaking—as she pointed toward the back, toward the room that housed Paris. Jane ran forward, then stopped at Annette’s side. Her hand reached out and curled over Annette’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Tears gleamed in Annette’s eyes. “What’s the use of all the power…if you can’t save the one who matters most?”
Jane sucked in a sharp breath. “Annette…”
“I looked into my mirror hundreds of times over the years. People came to me—vampires came to me. Werewolves. Humans. They were all so desperate. And do you know what most of them wanted?”
Jane shook her head.
“To save a loved one. I…” Her head lowered. “I pitied them. Swore I wouldn’t ever be like them. Because when you are willing to offer up your own life for someone else…that just means the fates will make you pay the ultimate price.”
Jane didn’t know what to say. Annette was hurting and the fault…it’s mine. I’m the one who didn’t save Paris. It’s on me. Because she didn’t know what to say in order to ease Annette’s pain, Jane just pulled the other woman close in a tight hug.
Annette stiffened in her hold. “What are you doing?”
“It’s called a hug, Annette.”
Annette stayed stiff. “You’d better not bite me…” Her words were grumbled but her body slowly relaxed. A moment later, Jane risked a look at Annette’s face, and saw that the tears had left her eyes.
For the moment.
“When did you start to love him?” Jane asked her.
Annette’s chin lifted. “Does the when matter? Do you remember the exact moment you started to love that beast of yours?”
No, she just…had.
Jane slipped back from Annette. Her beast was in danger, and they had to be prepared for Drew. But before she could go to him, Annette caught her wrist in a tight grip.
“We have to find a way to save them both,” Annette whispered.
“Trust me, that’s what I’m trying to do.”
But Annette’s gaze didn’t leave hers. “What will you trade?”
That answer was simple. For Aidan’s life? “Everything.”
Annette’s hand slipped from hers. “I was afraid you’d say that.” Her laughter was bitter. “Just like all the desperate fools who came to see me…wanting to save others…and losing themselves along the way.”
Jane shivered as she hurried toward that back room. Annette followed behind her, so quietly, and when Jane stepped inside that room…
Paris was sleeping. Empty blood bags littered the floor around him. Aidan stood over the other man, his hands clenched, his head bowed.
Jane hesitated. “Aidan…”
His shoulders tensed. “You didn’t do this, Jane.”
Yes, she had. Guilt was a weight pulling at her ankles as she crept toward him.
Aidan turned to her and the fury on his face nearly stopped her heart. “Someone gave him tainted blood, Jane. Deliberately. While Paris was helpless in an ambulance, some bastard forced him to take vampire blood.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear.
“He told me. My blood gave Paris a few moments of sanity. He remembered.” Aidan’s hand rose and she saw that his claws had broken from the tips of his fingers. “I will find the bastard who did this to Paris. He will pay.”
Because there was always a price in this world, just as Annette had said. A price for good deeds. A price for darkness. As she stared at Aidan’s face, Jane could only see darkness. A rage that went soul deep and promised the harshest vengeance. She was staring into the eyes of the man she loved, and, Jane knew without any doubt in her mind, she was also staring straight into the eyes of a killer.
***
Jane had taken the phone with her. He’d rather suspected she would. After all, Jane was so desperate to protect her lover, she’d run straight to him.
And I was able to follow.
The old building wasn’t the hiding spot he’d anticipated for Aidan Locke. But then, Aidan wasn’t really the one who was hiding.
Paris Cole was hiding. Or, rather, being hidden.
He lifted his lens up so that he could focus on that building. He wasn’t getting too close, even with the special lotion he’d used to hide his scent. Jane had run into that building, and she’d nearly knocked over a redheaded man in her haste. The redhead was familiar—he’d seen the guy a few times before.
Another werewolf. One who should have burned in the explosion he’d set, but Jane had saved his mangy hide.
The redhead didn’t matter to him. He needed to see Paris. Needed to find out just what was happening to that werewolf. Had he changed? Was he a vampire now? Mindless, desperate? Or…something more?
Jane hadn’t come out. He’d wait for her. After all, that was his job. To wait and to watch. He’d been paid so well for that job. For so very long.
And Jane had never even had a fucking clue. She’d thought she left her demons far behind her when she first moved to New Orleans. She’d been wrong. All along, they’d been right with her. She’d trusted the wrong people. She was still trusting the wrong ones.
She never even saw the threats coming.
But that was the thing about family and friends. They could blind you to their faults so perfectly. Blind you, trick you.
And in the end…kill you.
***
He had to hunt. Aidan’s claws were out and his beast wanted to take over. The thinnest thread of control held him back from a full shift. What he’d learned from Paris…
Someone did this to him. Someone made Paris this way.
It fucking enraged him.
His gaze shifted to Annette. “He gorged on the blood so he should be sated for a few hours, but I…I can’t leave him alone.”
She immediately shook her head. “He won’t be alone.”
“It isn’t safe to have other werewolves around him, not yet, so I can’t send any of my pack here.” He forced his back teeth to unclench. “Are you sure you can handle him?”
She gave a light, mocking laugh. “I told you before, alpha, I know how to handle the dead.” Her own gaze gleamed with a barely leashed rage. “Go find the one who did this to him. Bring him back…to me.”
She thought to get her own vengeance? Ah, not happening. The voodoo queen would need to get in line. Once Aidan was done with the guy, if there was anything left of the bastard, Annette could have the scraps of his soul to torture.
When he turned to leave, Jane immediately stepped to his side. “I’m coming with you.”
Not a good idea. Not when his control was so close to shattering. Aidan shook his head—
“That wasn’t a question,” Jane said quickly, breathlessly. “I’m coming. That freak watcher called me a few minutes ago—he said that my brother was on your trail, Aidan. We’ve got enemies closing in, and I’m not about to let you face danger alone.”
His eyes narrowed as his gaze raked over her face. “You’re afraid I’m going to kill Drew.” Hadn’t she asked him—more than once before—to promise he wouldn’t take her brother’s life? He would do many things for Jane, but that bastard…
He’s a dead man.
Blood wasn’t always the strongest bond.
“No,” Jane snapped back at him. “I’m afraid he’ll get more silver bullets and come after you. We’re getting threats on all sides, Aidan. Know what that means?” She caught his clawed fingers with her own. Then she laced their fingers together. “It means we’re stronger together.”
That was what they’d always said. He looked down at her hand. So small and fragile and soft within his grasp.
Jane.
His Jane.
He wouldn’t lose her. Not to anything. He couldn’t. Aidan wasn’t sure if his sanity would survive without her. That thin thread of control that was holding in his mind? It was there because she was there. An anchor inside of him, a light pulling him back from the darkness that Aidan could feel threatening to swallow him whole.
“We’ll do it together,” Jane whispered.
His gaze slid to her throat. He could see her pulse racing there, could almost taste the blood beneath her skin. He’d had such a small sip from her before.
He needed more.
He would have more.
His hold tightened on her. They left that hell, and he glanced back at Paris. Annette had knelt beside him, just beyond the line of dirt that she’d cast around his body. Paris hadn’t been able to cross past that dirt, not yet. Even when he’d lunged to attack Aidan, he hadn’t gone beyond the line. Aidan had crossed it in order to get to Paris, but his friend…
He was trapped.
Caged.
Beasts hated to be caged.
Am I different because I’m an alpha? Has Paris already lost his wolf completely? It would seem so. No wonder the bloodlust was hitting Paris so hard. He had no defense against it. Aidan’s wolf was still battling, refusing to give up…
Tearing me apart in the fight.
Aidan sucked in a deep breath. He would find a way to fix of all of this. He wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t.
Aidan and Jane slipped outside. His gaze scanned the street, looking for threats. The cemetery waited nearby, and he could see the statues and the mausoleums creeping above the heavy stone wall. His nostrils flared as he pulled in the scents around him. Humans. Perfume. Wine. Cigarettes.
“He left this phone for me.” Jane pulled it from her pocket. Her shoulder brushed against his chest. “The bastard had another surveillance camera set up, only this time it was in front of the Hathway Psychiatric Facility. He’d been watching my brother. When he called, he said that Drew was going to strike soon. That I had to get to you.”
“And you came running.” His words were rough and the hair on the nape of his neck rose. His gaze scanned the street. He looked back toward the cemetery and…
Light. Glinting.
Aidan didn’t say another word. He just took off running. He went straight for that cemetery wall. Jane yelled after him.
Aidan leapt over the wall. His knees didn’t buckle when he touched down on the other side. He rushed ahead, catching sight of a man’s dark hair.
“Aidan!” Jane yelled.
He glanced back just as she cleared the wall. That was his Jane. Strong. He turned back to face his prey—the fool wasn’t getting away.
The light glinted. He was watching us. Peering over the wall. Staring at us through—
Aidan grabbed the bastard.
And the device the man had been holding—a big, black camera—fell to the ground, shattering.
“What the fucking hell!” the man screamed. He turned on Aidan, swinging his fist. Aidan took the blow even as he caught sight of the dark lines of tattoos on the man’s wrist and forearm. Aidan laughed at the weak impact of that hit, and then his claws flew toward the fool who had thought to—
Jane jumped between him and his prey. “Aidan, stop!”
A sea of red was before his eyes. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted the bastard to bleed.
And I’ll drink his blood. I’ll drink him down. He’ll beg and bleed and—
“Aidan?” Jane stared at him, worry flashing in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Aidan drove his claws into the nearby mausoleum. Chunks of stone flew into the air around him. Rage was choking him, and he knew the way he felt was wrong. He tried to breathe, to get past the rage.
“Jane!” It was his prey talking—the guy was reaching for Jane, staring at her with familiarity. And Jane was—Jane was shielding the guy. Some human who was covered with tattoos, with piercings running up the side of his left ear, and who…
I know him, too. Fuck. He’d seen this guy before, back at Jane’s old apartment. When a paranormal fire had swept through the building, this asshole had been there. Jane had gotten Roth to safety and then, when an ambush happened on the streets and bullets started flying, Roth had run for cover. And this asshole just left Jane to protect herself.
“Roth!” Jane looked back at the guy. “What in the hell is going on?”
Roth, Roth Sly. The name clicked for Aidan. Fucking bastard. He hadn’t seen Roth since the night he’d gotten Jane away from her old apartment. He hadn’t even given a second thought to the jerk since that time.
Obviously, my mistake.
“I don’t know what’s happening!” Roth yelled back. “I was minding my own damn business and this guy flew at me!”
Aidan tried to shove down his rage, for the moment. Think. Focus.
“I was taking some pictures—you know how fucking important my art is to me, Jane,” Roth said, his words tumbling out. “Then this freak just came hurtling over the wall and attacked me.”
“It’s okay, Roth.” Jane’s voice was flat. “Everything is under control.” She stared hard at Aidan. “Isn’t it?”
His hands slowly slid from the stone. “For the moment.” Maybe. Barely. He glared at the guy. “Roth. I remember you.”
“Oh, shit,” Roth whispered. “Why do I feel like you mean that in a bad way?”
Because I do. I fucking do.
“You lived on the bottom floor of Jane’s building,” Aidan’s voice was a rough rumble. He couldn’t manage more than that. “The night I met you, your sorry ass hid behind a street sign when bullets started flying. You left Jane out in the open, vulnerable. You saved your own hide.”
Roth’s eyes bulged. “She is a cop, man! She knows how to take care of herself!” Roth was nearly as tall as Aidan and the guy was muscled, but in a match of strength, Aidan knew the fool wouldn’t even come close to his level. “I didn’t want to die! So, hell, yeah, I ran and hid! That’s what sane people do!” His gaze fell to the shattered camera. “Look what the hell you did…” He grabbed for the camera.
Aidan grabbed the bastard, snagging his wrist. The guy had a black raven tattoo that covered his inner wrist, and a snake was poised to bite that bird…its prey. “Do you like attacking those who are weaker than you?”
“Aidan!” Jane snapped. “He wasn’t attacking. You did that.”
“You were watching her.” He knew it with utter certainty. “You were out here, taking pictures of Jane.” He’d seen the glint of light that reflected off the guy’s lens. Jane was being followed, watched, and this SOB had just randomly appeared? He wasn’t about to buy that coincidence. No way.
“I was taking pictures of the street! Of the light coming over the buildings. Of the dead.” Roth’s breath heaved out as he straightened his shoulders. “I’m an artist. This shit is what I do!”
Aidan didn’t believe him.
Jane had bent to pick up the guy’s broken camera.
“Jane, look, he’s your boyfriend, right?” Roth said, his voice a bit frantic. “I mean, I remember when he came out of the fire at our old building. Calm him down, okay? Whatever weird-ass rage he’s on, calm him down.”
Jane slid closer to Aidan. She put her hand on his shoulder. For an instant, he did feel calm and then…
“Aidan, compel him to tell the truth,” Jane said.
Surprise flashed through him. Jane hated it when he manipulated humans. She—
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Jane continued quietly. “So ask Roth why he was here.”
Hell, yes. Aidan smiled at his prey.
Roth blinked and the guy started to sweat. “Compel me? What’s that shit supposed to mean? Is this some weird threesome thing? Because I’m flattered but I am not down—”
“Dumbass, I never share Jane.” Aidan slammed him against an old crypt. “Compelling means you tell me exactly what I want to hear…because you don’t have a choice.” He could feel power pouring through his body. “What were you doing in this cemetery?”
Roth’s face went slack. His eyes seemed to glaze over.
“What were you doing?” Aidan snarled.
“Taking pictures…for my exhibit. Life and Death, the thin line between…”
“Shitty title,” Aidan muttered.
“Aidan,” Jane said, a warning note in her voice.
He kept his tight hold on the human. “Why were you taking pictures of Jane?”
“Because Jane’s beautiful.” The answer rolled from him. “I saw her coming from that building and I had to take her photo, to add to my collection.”
That answer had Aidan’s wolf howling. Aidan took a slow breath. Then another. “What collection?”
Roth smiled. “I like beauty. I collect it when I can.”
Behind him, Jane swore. “I do not like where this is going.”
Humans could hide so much with their easy words and quick lies, but when Aidan had them under his compulsion, they had to reveal the secrets they kept deep inside.
“How do you collect beauty?” Aidan demanded.
Roth laughed. “With my art. I take pictures. I paint. I own the beauty. It becomes mine.”
Aidan thought about just slicing the guy’s throat open right then and there. “This dick is a serial killer in training,” he told Jane.
“Maybe, but I don’t think he’s the guy who’s been testing me.”
No, maybe he was just a freak who seemed to be stalking Jane…and other women. Aidan cocked his head as he studied the other man. “Have you taken pictures of Jane before?”
Roth smiled. “Lots of them.” That smile dimmed. “But most burned in the fire. So this was a good chance to get new ones.”
A growl rumbled in Aidan’s throat. “I really want to kill you right now.”
Jane’s fingers curled around his shoulder. “But you won’t. You’ll let him go, and I’ll call the PD and give them a tip to watch this guy before he turns into even more of a perv.” He felt the bite of her nails in his skin. “He…hasn’t already hurt anyone, has he?”
Aidan stared into Roth’s eyes. “Have you hurt a woman before?”
“No woman. I told you…” Again, that smile flashed. “I like beauty. I capture it.”
“You won’t capture anything else of Jane’s, do you understand?” He forced as much power as he could into that command. “You won’t even fucking look her way again, got me? You’ll stay away from her. Because if you don’t, I’ll give you a real up-close experience for that thin line between life and death bullshit exhibit of yours.”
Roth paled. “I…won’t look her way.”
“You won’t fucking stalk any woman, got it?” This slimy bastard was pissing him off.
Roth nodded.
“Send him away,” Jane whispered. “He’s not the one we want, and I don’t like us just being out in the open like this.”
Because neither of them had exactly experienced the best of times in that particular cemetery.
“Get out of here,” Aidan ordered. “And as soon as you clear the cemetery gates, you just keep walking, asshole. You won’t recall much about our little chat, but you will remember to stay the fuck away from Jane.”
Roth nodded. He reached for the broken camera. Aidan laughed. “Tough luck. You don’t get that back, either. Now get out of here.”
Roth stumbled away. He looked back, once, at Aidan, but his gaze didn’t so much as dart Jane’s way.
Aidan kept his gaze on the bastard until the man was out of the cemetery. Then he turned and stared at Jane.
His Jane.
“I lived in New Orleans for over a year with that asshole as my downstairs neighbor,” Jane said, shaking her head. Her dark hair slid over her shoulders. “He was weird, yes, but I never thought…” Her gaze trekked toward the cemetery’s heavy wall. “What happens when you can’t trust anyone anymore?”
He wanted to tell Jane that she could trust him. That she could always count on him, but the words wouldn’t come. Because he couldn’t be sure they were true. Not with the changes going on inside of him.
The rage was still there, he hadn’t stopped it. Rage that blasted through his very veins. He stared at Jane. That bastard had been taking her picture. What else had he been doing? Living in the same building, he would’ve had so much access to Jane. “I should’ve fucking killed him.”
Jane shook her head. “No, then you’d be—”
“Baby, I am the monster.” And right then, part of him gloried in that fact. He caught her hand, pulled her close. “And I wish I’d ripped out his throat.” For daring to stare at Jane, to lust for her—oh, yeah, the bastard had fucking lusted. Aidan had smelled that scent in the air. The fool had wanted Jane.
He’ll never have her. No one else will. Jane will always be mine.
The darkness stretched more inside of him, threatening to swallow the man he’d been. Threatening to take his sanity.
“For a minute there,” Jane said, her voice husky. “I thought you were going for his throat.”
If she hadn’t been there, he would have. Aidan didn’t speak as they left that cemetery. Back on the street, his gaze swept the area once more. More humans were out, filling the sidewalks. No one seemed to be paying him and Jane any attention.
But appearances were so often deceptive.
Aidan pulled out his phone. He called Vivian, even as his gaze kept searching for threats. The police captain answered on the second ring.
“What’s happening?” Vivian’s voice was tight. “Aidan, I’ve been trying to reach you—”
“Paris isn’t dead.”
“What?”
“I need you to find out who was working on him at the scene of the fire. Any EMTs, anyone who was near him—you fucking bring those people to me, got it?”
“Aidan, how did he survive? There was no pulse.” Her voice was shaking. “I checked! I swear, I did. I would never let a pack member—”
“Bring them to me, Vivian.” She’d always been a loyal member of his pack. He knew he could count on her. “I’ll be at Hell’s Gate.” And he would get his answers.
“It’s going to take some time.” He heard her quick, indrawn breath carry over the phone line. “But I’ll get anyone I can find, I swear it.”
Aidan ended the call, then he curled his hand around Jane’s. His claws were gone, but his beast was about to break free. Time to get off that street. Time to get back to his lair.
And time to claim what was his.
***
Roth Sly stumbled down the road, blinking blearily. He glanced at his hands. They felt…empty. As if he should be holding something. Doing something. He stopped at the street corner, just staring as others hurried across the crosswalk.
Why the hell was he on that street?
He touched his head. His temples were throbbing like a bitch.
Someone bumped into him from behind. He realized he was just standing there, holding up the damn line. Muttering an apology, he turned to the man who’d nudged him. “Sorry…I just…” Roth gave a rough laugh. “I must have pulled one hell of an all-nighter.” A hangover, that’s what he had. That’s why he felt weird and couldn’t remember exactly what the hell he’d been doing. He’d had blackouts before, usually after he drank himself into a sweet oblivion. But…he hadn’t drank like that in a very, very long time. Not since he’d started his last job.
The man who’d bumped him smiled. “No problem. We’ve all been there.” It was a friendly smile. Easy going. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner. Some caffeine might help you out, and they’ve got great beignets there.”
“Right. Yeah, thanks, man.” Roth turned away, rubbing a hand over his jaw and feeling the faint sting of a five o’clock shadow. He hurried around the corner, and, sure enough, down the way just a little bit, there was a coffee shop waiting. It was about thirty feet away. His left hand shoved into his pocket. Did he have any money on him?
Footsteps tapped behind him. He looked back, and that guy was there. The friendly dude from the crosswalk. Roth blinked. Was the fellow following him?
No, no, he was just being paranoid. That happened after he drank too much, too. Another unwanted side effect.
Roth pushed open the door of the coffee shop. The bell above his head jingled. He spotted an empty booth in the far back and he bee-lined for it. He sat down on the broken seat cushion, exhaling in relief.
And then, two seconds later, that same damn guy slid into the booth with him. “What the hell…?” Roth began.
The man shoved a thick, brown envelope across the table. “Where’s Jane?”
Jane.
Roth started to sweat.
“I know you were following her today,” the guy continued. He leaned forward. “I paid you to follow Jane. So where the fuck is she now?”