“I think someone else shouldn’t play with her mind. It’s her choice.”
Her choice. Right. He focused on Mary once more. “Do you want to remember the attack?”
Mary’s breath sawed in and out.
“Do you want to remember that vampires are real? Do you want to remember that a vampire drove his teeth into your throat and drank from you?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “No.”
There. Her choice. “Then it didn’t happen.”
Jane gave a frantic shake of her head.
“It didn’t happen. You were on your paranormal tour, you got separated from the group, and you fell asleep outside of my bar.” He smiled at her. “Garrison found you. He brought you inside to make sure you were all right. And he’s going to be taking you home now. Home…where you’ll be safe.”
Mary was silent for a moment, then a quick smile spread over her face. “I’d like to go home.”
Right. He motioned to Garrison. The guy bounded forward. “I knew you’d do it,” Garrison said quickly. “You always make them forget so I knew—”
He grabbed the guy’s shirtfront and jerked him forward. “The next time you get the urge to kidnap a human…don’t,” he whispered into the younger wolf’s ears. “Because maybe I won’t clean up your mess again.”
“I’m sorry! I wanted to help, I—”
That was Garrison’s problem. He wanted to help, but he kept making things worse.
“Get her camera, bring it to me.” He kept his voice low. “And get her home.” He released Garrison and stared at Mary once more. “You didn’t meet me. You didn’t meet anyone but Garrison. And you think he’s one kind Good Samaritan.”
Mary turned her bright smile on Garrison.
Garrison looked miserable as he stared back at her. “I’m sorry,” he said again. Then he took her hand.
The broken handcuff gleamed. “What’s that?” Mary asked curiously.
Jane spun away and paced toward the bar. Her angry mutters drifted back to Aidan.
Aidan took Mary’s wrist, and he yanked away the silver that still lingered on her—on both wrists. “It was nothing.”
Mary nodded. Garrison curled a hand carefully around her waist and gave her a little push toward the door.
“Mary…” Aidan called, stopping her. “If you ever see that vampire again, you’re to immediately come to Hell’s Gate. I will protect you, understand?”
“Yes.”
Then she was gone. Garrison led her outside and the door closed behind them.
He exhaled slowly.
Paris looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. Just one. The one elevated brow was Paris speak for…What the hell do you want me to do now?
Aidan jerked his head toward the stairs.
Paris got the message. He cleared out fast. Jane just stood there, her hands flat on the bar, her tense back to Aidan.
He waited until Paris’s footsteps had faded away, then he stalked closer to her. “I let the human make the choice.”
“Bullshit.” Her head was bowed. She never glanced his way. “The woman was traumatized. She was in no shape to make any choice.”
“She didn’t want the memory of her attack. You think she’s the first? Humans don’t want to remember monsters. They have enough stress just in their normal lives. Dealing with the fact that werewolves and vamps are real—that these monsters are walking the streets—humans can’t deal with that shit.” He was adamant on that fact. “It’s easier for them to forget. Easier for them to get on with their lives and be happy again. If she’d remembered, she just would have been afraid. Every damn day and night.” He waited a bit. Then Aidan said, “Like you are.”
Jane spun to confront him. “I’m not afraid.”
“Yes, sweetheart, you are. You think I can’t see it? You think I can’t smell it?” And he hated the scent of her fear. “It’s been there, all along.”
“Stop it.”
“When you wake up at night, screaming because the memories won’t stop for you…because you see the vampire killing your family again and again…do you know what I wish?” He wasn’t going to hold back. Not on this. Not now. Not with her.
“What? What do you wish?” Her words were angry, tight.
“I wish that I could make you forget.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“I wish I could make you forget every second of pain you’ve ever had. I wish you’d just be happy.” It was the stark truth. Take the terrible memory away from her? Control her mind enough to do that? Yes, he was bastard enough to want just that.
The silence in the room was thick. Heavy. Jane would see that he was right. She’d understand the choice he’d made and—
“I am afraid.”
There, yes, she understood—
“But that’s okay.” Her chin notched higher. “I can live with the fear. I can live with the anger. I can live with all the emotions that sometimes feel like they are ripping me apart—and you know why?”
“Jane—”
“Because they are mine. My emotions. And my memories. Yes, I see that fucking bastard killing my family. I feel the rage beat at me. The helplessness. I hate those memories.”
She understood. She did. She—
“But before she died, my mother said she loved me.”
Aidan blinked at her.
“My father…stepfather…no, dammit, he will always just be my dad to me…He looked at me. Even when that bastard was torturing him, even when the vamp was killing him, my dad looked at me. He smiled and told me that I would be all right.” A tear leaked down her cheek.
“I can’t stand it when you cry.” It tore him apart. That’s why I want to take all of Jane’s pain away. Her pain guts me. “It’s better to be without the pain, better to—”
“It’s better to have the memories. The fear and the pain—everything. It is better to have them. Better for me to remember that even at the end, even with all the terrible shit that was happening to them, my parents still loved me. They died loving me. I have that, Aidan. That memory, and it gets me through the days when I question everything around me. I wouldn’t trade that love, not for anything. I wouldn’t wish the memory away, I would never want to forget.” Her eyes gleamed as she stared up at him. “Just because you have a power, it doesn’t mean you should use it.”
His chest burned. “Jane, that woman didn’t want to remember the attack.”
“You didn’t want to expose your pack. Pack is first.” Jane nodded. “That is something I seem to have trouble remembering.” She pushed away from the bar. “Get Paris to send a copy of your video footage to me at the station. I have a case to work.”
He caught her arm. “Jane, don’t leave.”
She looked down at his hand.
“The world can’t know about supernaturals. There would be chaos. War. You see how humans fight each other now—because of different beliefs, different races, different religions. What do you think would happen if they knew there were real monsters roaming the streets? It would be fucking Armageddon.”
“I think all humans aren’t evil. I think some people truly do have good inside of them.” Her smile was sad. “Just as I think some monsters do, too.” She pulled away and walked slowly for the door. But her steps stopped and she said, “He didn’t kill her.”
Aidan was staring down at his clenched hands. But at her words, he glanced up.
She wasn’t looking at him. “The vampire could have killed Mary, but he didn’t.”
“He attacked her, Jane.”
“But he left her alive.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I think it does.” She pushed open the door. “Maybe it means he isn’t as completely evil as you think.” She left him.
Jane…no, he fucking is.
But Jane was gone, and he knew she didn’t want him going after her. Not then.
Hell.
Chapter Eight
Travis Maller loved a good pa
rty. He’d finished his big chemical engineering test, scored a B on that fucker, and he was more than ready to let off steam.
He pushed through the crowd at the bar. There were always crowds in New Orleans. That was why he loved the place so much. He’d grown up in freaking Wharo, Mississippi, a speck on the map with all of eight hundred people in the city limits. He’d hated the small town. Hated everyone always knowing everyone else’s business.
In New Orleans, no one cared what you did. You could get lost in the crowd. You could party your ass off all night on Bourbon Street.
No one cared.
Thatch had loved this city just as much as I did.
When he thought of Thatch, pain knifed through Travis. He and Thatch had been at this same club just the night before. And now his wingman was dead. Shit, shit, shit.
Travis motioned to the bartender. “Give me the hardest shit you’ve got.”
The bartender, a big guy with piercings in his ears, lifted his brows. “Celebrating?” He started to mix the drink.
“Celebrating and mourning. Both are going to take me to oblivion.” And that was just where he needed to be. He grabbed the drink when the bartender shoved the glass toward him. Travis tipped it up, angling the glass toward the packed dance floor. “Here’s to you, Thatch. One night you’re in Hell, and the next…buddy, I sure as shit hope you’re in heaven.”
He downed the drink in one gulp then slammed the glass on the bar. “Another.”
The bartender started pouring.
“Keep them coming.” Gonna miss you, Thatch. Coming back to this place had seemed fitting. Paying a final respect. Missing the hell out of his wingman. Thatch had been the one to choose Hell’s Gate as their party spot the night before. He’d been the one to push to get inside.
And now he’s gone…Travis tilted back his head as he drained the second glass. And as he gulped down that alcohol, his gaze shifted to the second floor of the club. An area that was off-limits. A big, dangerous looking SOB stood at the top of the stairs. He had dark hair and his arms were crossed over his chest as he stared down at the crowd.
No, not at the crowd. At me. The guy was looking straight at Travis.
And then…the guy lifted his hand and pointed.
“He wants you to come upstairs,” the bartender said.
“Who the hell is he?”
The bartender gave a long, slow sigh. “You’re gonna wish you didn’t even have to find out…”
***
Aidan stared at the human who sat across from him. Travis Maller. The guy held a drink in one hand and his slightly unfocused gaze told Aidan that the human was already well on his way to being smashed.
“Thanks, Saul,” Aidan said to the werewolf who’d brought the guy up to him.
Saul gave a little nod then turned to head back to his bartending duties.
Aidan tapped his fingers onto the desk as he stared at Travis.
“So…what?” Travis asked nervously. “You’re the BFD here or something?”
Big Fucking Deal. “Or something,” Aidan allowed. His gaze swept over the man. Yes, this was the fellow he’d seen on his security footage. Paris had made sure to show him this guy’s face. “You were here last night.”
Travis’s expression darkened. “With my boy. But he’s fucking dead.” He lifted his glass, as if saluting the dead man. “Heard today. Thatch was mugged or some shit on the way home.”
Or some shit. Yes, that had happened. “Why was he trying to get into my office?”
“What?” Travis blinked. “No, no, he was here to party. Why the fuck would he want to get in this place?” He glanced around, seemingly confused.
Why, indeed. “Why did you come to this bar?”
“To party. To get laid.” Travis shrugged.
Jane wouldn’t like what came next…but Jane wasn’t there. Aidan leaned forward and locked his gaze on the human. He needed answers and he didn’t have time for bullshit. “Why did you come to this bar?”
“Because Thatch said he wanted to get inside. Thatch picked the place, I just followed his lead.” Travis Maller’s answer was instantaneous.
“And did Thatch tell you why he wanted to get into my office?”
“No.” Travis blinked. “Um, what are we talking about?”
“Get your ass back down to the bar. We’re done.” The human didn’t know anything that could help him.
Travis hurried out of the room.
Aidan watched him go.
Alan Thatcher. He was the one with the answers. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to get answers from the dead.
***
Jane headed toward Hell’s Gate. It had been a long day. A day of chasing leads, of talking to the family, and of dealing with political bullshit at the PD.
The death of Alan Thatcher was being handled with extreme care. Jane’s boss, police captain Vivian Harris, had been in charge of the afternoon press briefing. When a good-looking, wealthy college student was killed, yeah, a press briefing was needed. A Cover-Our-Asses briefing. Vivian had fed the reporters a BS story about the guy being killed in a mugging gone wrong.
Jane had stood silently behind her captain, her stomach in knots.
Vivian was a werewolf, part of Aidan’s pack. She didn’t want to leak any intel about the paranormals, but she did want Jane to find Alan’s killer.
That’s my job now. To protect the human victims.
There was a long line of folks waiting to get inside of Hell’s Gate. The street was overflowing with bars—why didn’t some of those people head into a different venue? Muttering to herself, Jane skipped that line and headed straight for the door.
And she plowed into a big, blond guy.
“Sorry!” His breath—heavy with the smell of booze—blew across her face. “I’ve got…got to go…”
She stared up at him. Thick blond hair, young twenties, strong face, Tulane t-shirt…
He brushed around her.
“Stop!” Jane called out.
That’s the guy who was at Hell’s Gate with Thatch on the security video. She’d been showing his picture to folks at the Tulane campus all day. While she hadn’t found him, Jane had learned a name to go with his face. Travis Maller. Right before she’d come to Bourbon Street, she’d even gone to his off-campus apartment, the guy hadn’t been there.
Because he was back in Hell’s Gate.
At her cry, Travis Maller didn’t stop. He just quickened his steps.
Dammit. Jane yanked out her badge. “I’m a cop!” She rushed after him. “And I need to talk to you!”
Travis cast a frantic glance over his shoulder—then he turned and ran straight into the throng on Bourbon Street.
“Oh, come on,” Jane muttered. Then, shaking her head, she gave chase.
***
Aidan had just stepped onto his balcony when he saw Jane rush after Travis Maller. His gaze swept the crowd on the street below him. New guards were supposed to be watching her back but…
This is my Jane.
He jumped off the balcony. When he hit the street, his knees didn’t even buckle.
“Did you see that shit?” One man’s voice called out, the words breaking a bit. “That SOB just jumped—”
“You’re drunk,” Aidan snarled back as he pushed his way through the crowd. “You didn’t see anything.” That was the beauty of humans. Most would explain away the paranormal activity that they saw with their own eyes.
Just drunk. I imagined it. Guy was probably on the ground the whole time. Yeah, they did half of his job for him.
He rushed forward.
He didn’t see Jane.
His nostrils flared. I don’t need to see her. I can track my Jane anywhere.
And she’d turned left. So did he.
***
“Stop running, dammit!” Jane grabbed Travis by the shoulder and slammed him against the wooden wall of an abandoned building. He’d fled down a side street—a deserted street that was nearly pitch black because the stre
et lamps barely flickered. “I’m not going to hurt you!”
“Don’t arrest me!” He shoved against her.
Jerk. Jane shoved back, hard, then she whipped out her gun. “And don’t attack a cop, dumbass.”
He stilled.
“That’s better.” Her breath sawed out of her lungs. “Are you Travis Maller?”
He nodded, miserably. “I’m sorry.”
Jane tensed. “For what? What have you done?”
His knees seemed to give way and the guy slid down until he hit the ground. Jane kept her weapon aimed at him.
“Drinking didn’t make it better…” His words were slurred. “Not a damn bit…”
“What are you trying to make better?”
He tilted his head back, looking up at her. “My best friend is dead.”
“I know. That’s why I need to talk with you.”
“Then you know.” He sighed and his shoulders shook. “I killed him.”
***
When he heard the confession, Aidan stilled. He’d caught up to Jane’s guards and he’d put his hands on their shoulders, stopping them from closing in.
Jane seemed to have the situation well under control. She gets pissed when I keep rushing into her life.
She was already pissed enough. He didn’t want to get even deeper into her bad graces.
Jane’s body was poised to attack. Her gun was held securely in her hand. And her eyes were on the crying man at her feet.
“Looks like she’s got this,” Aidan said to the werewolf guards he’d assigned to Jane. “Go back to the bar. I’ll…linger.” Just to make sure.
Just…because it was Jane.
And because I need to hear what happens next.
The werewolves hurried away. Aidan eased a bit closer to Jane and the human…the sobbing human.
***
“I left him fucking alone,” Travis said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I was his wingman. I was supposed to stay with him. Instead, I hit on some girl I met at the bar, and I never looked back.”
Guilt. Yes, Jane knew it when she heard it.
“He left the bar alone.” Travis pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I did that. If I’d been with him, he wouldn’t have died. No one would have messed with us. Not the two of us. But Thatch was by himself. Easier pickings. And some sonofabitch killed my best friend.”