He wanted her to promise him everything. That Jane would recover fully. That Jane would have a long, happy life. That Jane would live to be ninety-eight and surrounded by a giant family that loved her and needed her and—
“Drew…”
Jane’s soft whisper cut right through him. He spun to face the bed. Jane’s eyes were still closed, but she’d definitely spoken that one word.
“Drew…” Again, her brother’s name came from her. So soft. So desperate. “H-help…me…”
Aidan locked his gaze on Paris. “Find the brother. Bring him to me.” Because anything Jane wanted, he would get for her.
Annette started chanting. Bob was working with his surgical instruments. Jane was bleeding and Aidan…he did something he hadn’t done before in his entire life.
He prayed.
Survive the night.
***
Police Captain Vivian Harris stared at the body. Another human, slashed and tortured and left to die in a New Orleans cemetery.
This was bad. So freaking bad.
“Cover the body,” she ordered a nearby cop, a young guy in uniform. What was his name? Something Mitchell. Michael? Mason? Jane had worked with the guy before, had spoken pretty highly of him…
So maybe they could count on him right now. “I want the scene secured. No reporters get in here, got me? Not a single one is to photograph the body. I’ll get the ME out here immediately, and I don’t want this crime scene contaminated. We have a killer to stop, and we will stop him.”
The young cop’s gaze was on the dead man. “What…what kind of knife do you think the killer used?”
She didn’t think the killer had used a knife.
Vivian recognized claw marks when she saw them. After all, she had her own set of claws that sprang out when the time was right.
A wolf, hiding in plain sight among the humans. It was the way most of her kind lived.
“Not normal stab wounds,” the young cop continued. “They’re more slashes, spaced out just the same and—”
“No reporters,” Vivian interrupted him, her voice clipped. “If I see a shot of this scene on tomorrow’s news, I will hold you personally responsible.”
He snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now I’m going to call Detective Hart.” Again. “She’ll be lead on this case, and I want her ass down here.” She’d been trying to call Jane all during the ride to the cemetery. Where the hell was the woman? Vivian paced away from the scene, yanking out her phone. She waited impatiently for the call to connect and then…
Music. Hard rock. The music reached her ears, a sound that others at the scene didn’t seem to notice.
Because they aren’t werewolves. Sure, she wasn’t an alpha. Vivian couldn’t do a full-on shift like Aidan, but her senses were enhanced, and there was no fight she hadn’t ever won. Superior strength was always a plus.
But that music…
Vivian slowly followed the sound. It was her favorite band. She loved rock, the harder, the better. And Jane knew that. For her birthday, Jane had given Vivian tickets to that band’s latest concert. The band had made a pit-stop in New Orleans, and, though she hadn’t let on, Vivian had been touched by the gift. Jane actually paid attention to people. To what mattered to them.
Vivian rounded another crypt. Her steps were faster now. She still had her phone to her left ear. It kept ringing.
And the music kept playing.
A quick twist around another crypt and—
The phone was on the ground. Its screen was smashed to hell and back.
Vivian ended her call. The music instantly stopped playing, and, there on the screen, beneath all of the spider-web like cracks, she saw…
Missed Call. Vivian Harris.
The scent of blood was strong around her. Vivian sucked in a deep breath, then she made another phone call. Only this time, she called her alpha.
The phone rang once. Twice…
The call was answered and a gruff voice said, “He can’t talk now.”
She immediately bristled. “Put Aidan Locke on the phone, now. This is Police Captain Vivian Harris, and I have to speak with him about Detective Mary Jane Hart—”
“This is Paris, Viv.” The voice had softened. “And he’s with Jane now. That’s why he can’t talk.”
Her nostrils flared as she pulled in that heavy scent of blood. “How bad is it?”
“She’ll make it.” Though he didn’t sound so sure. “She has to make it.”
Chapter Ten
Jane’s eyes flew open. She stared up at the ceiling—a really tall, cathedral ceiling—and she tried to figure out just what the hell had happened to her.
Then her hand flew to her stomach. She—
“Don’t,” Aidan said, his voice a rough rumble. His fingers tangled with hers. “Don’t touch the bandage, not yet.”
Her gaze snapped toward him. He sat in a chair that had been pulled right next to the bed. Dark shadows lined his eyes and deep lines bracketed his mouth.
“You look like hell,” she told him.
But he smiled at her. A smile of such warmth and straight-up joy that Jane had to blink away tears.
“You look like heaven,” he said. “My own angel.”
She was as far from an angel as it was possible to get.
His fingers smoothed over the back of her hand. “I thought I told you to stop scaring me.”
She did vaguely remember him saying something like that. “How bad was it?”
“Bad enough that I had a doctor and a voodoo queen working on you at the same time.” He paused. “And I had to give you my blood.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that.” But chill bumps rose on her arms. It had tasted good.
No. Jane gave another hard shake of her head. That was just some—some weird dream. Some craziness brought on by the trauma. She hadn’t taken his blood and thought that it was good…had she?
“Probably a good thing. Doubt you’d want to remember your good buddy Dr. Bob stitching you up.”
Yeah, she didn’t want to remember that. She glanced around the room. “We’re at the mansion.”
“I wanted you in the safest place possible. This was it.”
She pushed up, slowly, until she was sitting in the bed. She was wearing one of his shirts—a giant white button-up that swallowed her.
“Dr. Bob will want to come in soon and see you. He’s been checking on you every hour.” Aidan rose, as if he were about to head to the door and get the doctor.
But she tightened her grip on his hand. “What happened to Travis?”
A muscle flexed in Aidan’s jaw. “He…didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Jane.”
Dammit.
“You did make it. You survived.” He swallowed. “And I’ll take that miracle.”
“How close was it? How close did I come to waking as a vampire?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Oh, crap. She must have come very, very close.
He leaned over the bed, over her. Aidan’s gaze held hers. His eyes were so very blue. “I love you, Mary Jane.” The words were deep and strong and they made her feel warm inside. “Know this…I will fight anything, anyone in order to keep you alive and with me. I don’t want to lose you.”
She had to blink away tears and then she thought—why stop them. Jane realized just how close she’d come to losing everything. She jerked him closer, locking her arms around him, and Jane held Aidan as tightly as she could—so tightly that she never wanted to let him go. “I love you,” she whispered.
Her words were so true. This hard, stark, primitive connection between them—it was just the beginning. Physically, she was completely attuned to him. But emotionally, he got to her. Had, from the very first. He could frustrate her, amuse her, charm her…thrill her. Love. That’s what I feel for him. For a while, she’d thought that she’d never fall in love with anyone. Her job had consumed her. She’d only let a few fri
ends close. Jane’s life had been about protecting herself from the pain of the past. From any future pain that would come.
But…that hadn’t really been living.
She eased her hold on Aidan. He pulled back, staring down at her.
Jane kissed him. She poured all of her emotions into that kiss. He’d given her his own blood so that she could live. He’d fought for them both when she was on the verge of passing—of becoming something else.
Aidan. Her Aidan. Always.
A knock sounded at the door. “Aidan?” That slightly pompous voice—ah, she would recognize it anywhere. “I need to check on Jane.” The door swung open and Dr. Bob stood there, glowering. “What the hell? She has been fighting death all night. Don’t jump the woman now!”
“I wanted him to jump me,” Jane said. She offered Aidan a weak smile. “That was all me.”
He didn’t smile back. If possible, his expression became even grimmer. “I would do anything for you. You know that, don’t you, Jane?”
She did.
He kissed her again. “I can’t lose you.”
“I need to check my patient,” Dr. Bob said, huffing indignantly. “I’d better make sure your jumping didn’t pop any of her stitches.”
Aidan growled, but he backed away from the bed. He shot a fast glare at Dr. Bob. “Watch the tone, asshole. Her friend or not, you don’t fuck with the alpha.”
Dr. Bob licked his lips. “I-I—”
“I’m grateful to you for saving Jane, so you get a pass this time. But don’t pull that shit again.” Then Aidan’s gaze swung back to Jane and softened. “I’ll see you again real soon, sweetheart. I just need to take care of one thing, and I’ll be back with you.”
She didn’t want him to leave. Crazy but…she was feeling vulnerable and scared. Claws to the stomach could do that to a woman. But she kept her weak smile in place and nodded.
A few moments later, the door closed with a soft click as Aidan left the room.
“Jane.” Dr. Bob didn’t sound so pompous any longer. His shoulders had sagged as he stared at her. “Jane, I thought you were dying in front of me.”
Her breath heaved out. “That bad?” Because she felt pretty darn good right then, all things considered.
“That bad.” He gave a brisk nod and hurried to the bed. “I saw the claw marks and I…I thought Aidan had attacked you.”
“That wouldn’t happen.” Her words came out instantly.
“I know how strong he is. The alpha, just like the cocky SOB just said. He’s stronger than every other wolf in this town, and I know the kind of damage he could do to you if he lost his control.”
“Aidan doesn’t lose his control. And he wouldn’t hurt me.”
Dr. Bob chewed on his lower lip. “You absolutely sure about that?”
As long as I’m not a vampire, yes. But if I change…all bets are off. Her chin lifted. “I’m sure.” If she changed, then she wouldn’t be the same person. And Aidan would need to protect the world from her.
Vampires became wild, bloodlust driven monsters. They attacked their families, their friends. The old. The young. Everyone.
Dr. Bob cleared his throat. “You look remarkably well.” A pause. “I was scared last night.”
Now he was surprising her.
“I…like you, Detective Hart. You don’t put up with my bullshit. You don’t pull your punches. And you do your job because you actually care about people.”
Her eyes widened. This was more emotional than Dr. Bob had ever been with her before.
“I would appreciate it,” he continued gruffly, “if you would not get yourself killed. I don’t have many friends as it is, and I would like to keep the few that I enjoy.”
“I’ll do my best,” she told him. “On the whole, not getting myself killed part.”
He nodded. His expression lightened a little.
“And I’m glad you’re my friend,” she added. His cheeks flushed a light pink. “Even though you can be a serious asshole most days.”
A ghost of a smile lifted his lips.
“I guess I like asshole medical examiners,” Jane mused.
“Damn straight.” He exhaled heavily. “Now, I’m going to need to take off that shirt and look at your wound. Just—you know, hold your shit together because this is all just medical. Purely professional. Don’t go freaking and calling in the big bad wolf on me just because I see you without your clothes.”
She rolled her eyes and started unbuttoning the shirt from the bottom. “Bob, I know you’re gay. I saw your boyfriend sneaking out after your lunch date one day. Rob the cradle much?”
He made one of his hmmmph sounds. His smile stretched a little more. And she knew all was well again.
She stopped unbuttoning the shirt just below her breasts and held the material there. Then she eased back down on the bed until she was lying flat. It was odd. She would have expected the wound to be pulling with her movements, at least aching, but it wasn’t.
Though it had started to itch in the last few moments.
Dr. Bob put on his gloves, then he began to carefully pull back her bandages. She kept her gaze on the ceiling as he worked. If she looked up there, if she let her thoughts focus elsewhere, she wouldn’t think about the damage that he had to be seeing.
Think about the victims. They weren’t lucky enough to survive. Think about them. Alan Thatcher. Travis Maller.
The two victims were connected. So, was their killer connected to them, too? Someone they both knew?
Why was this killer targeting humans? Why Alan and Travis? Had they learned his secret and threatened to reveal it to the world?
But…no. She narrowed her eyes on the ceiling. Aidan had used his power when he questioned Travis. Surely the whole, I-Know-About-Werewolves bit would have come up during that little talk, right?
It took her a moment to realize that the bandage was gone. She could feel air swirling over her skin and…Dr. Bob was just standing there. Her gaze slowly slid from the ceiling to his face. His horrified face.
“Guess I’m going to have quite the scar, right?” That was okay. She’d deal with it.
His mouth hung open.
“Dr. Bob?” Fear twisted inside of her. “Is everything okay?”
Then he gave a slow, negative shake of his head.
***
“I want a protection spell for Jane,” Aidan said as he paced just outside of the bedroom. His steps were quick and angry. “The most powerful one you’ve got.”
Annette Benoit rolled back her shoulders. “She survived the night. That’s what you wanted. That’s what happened.”
He stopped pacing. “A protection spell. We both know you can do one.”
She laughed, but it was a sad sound. “You think you can save her from every danger out there? That you can keep her safe from every single threat? Not even my magic can do that. Jane has a life to live, and every life has dangers. Every second—it’s a gamble. There are no guarantees in this world, and you know it.”
His hands were fisted. “I know that I need her.”
“Poor wolf. You fell hard and now—”
He stared down at his fisted hands. “Now I’m terrified because I don’t want a life without her.”
She walked toward him. Put her hand on his shoulder. “You think you’re the only one? Anyone—everyone—who loves feels this way. When you give so much of yourself to another, you open yourself up to incredible joy.”
He lifted his gaze to her face.
“And incredible pain.” Pain was reflected in her eyes. “But that’s the risk. And it’s a risk we all take.” Her gaze never left his as she said, “There is no protection spell strong enough. Even you, big, bad alpha, can’t protect Jane from everything in this world. If you tried, if you locked her away, would that really be living for her?”
“I’m not talking about locking her away,” he said. “I just—” Aidan broke off. I just feel powerless. No one else had ever mattered to him this much.
> “I know,” Annette murmured and she truly did seem to understand. “But magic can’t fix everything. You love your Jane? Then just—just enjoy her. Enjoy every moment. Don’t look back and don’t look forward. No one on this earth—human, vamp, or werewolf—is guaranteed anything. We take our joy where we find it.”
His joy…it was all tied up in Jane.
“Thank you for your help tonight, Annette Benoit,” he said formally. “I know coming back to this place wasn’t easy.”
“Just like walking into my favorite nightmare,” she said, her lips hitching into a half smile. “So you owe me, wolf.”
He already knew that. “Paris will see you back home. He’ll also pay you for tonight’s work.” Aidan turned away.
“The cash is great, but I’ll be collecting a favor, too. Just so we’re clear.”
He’d figured as much. Aidan turned away from her. He wanted to go back to Jane and hear what Dr. Heider had to say about her wounds—
“Is it wise, do you think? Giving her your blood?”
Her voice was so hesitant. Very unlike Annette.
Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned at her. “I’ve given my pack blood plenty of times.” It had helped to speed up their recovery process when their injuries were particularly severe.
“But Jane isn’t a werewolf.” Her head tilted to the right as she studied him. “Have you given your blood to a human before?”
“No. It’s not like I’m overly tight with humans.”
“Right. Not you.” She rubbed her neck. “And Jane isn’t exactly an ordinary human. Aren’t you worried—at all—that there could be repercussions from what you’re doing?”
“I’d given her my blood before this attack. She was fine after taking it.”
Her eyes widened. “Just how many times have you given Jane your blood?”
“I gave her my blood twice last night.” Because she had been so severely injured. “And once before that. And she seems fine.”
“It’s werewolf blood, though. Alpha blood. That you’re giving to a vamp-in-waiting.” Annette’s face showed her worry. “What will that do to her?”
“It will keep her alive.”
“Aidan…you know better. Frankenstein isn’t the only one who can make monsters.”