“I want you. My Aidan. My lover. The man who would take any pain to protect me. The man who loves me more than anyone ever has before.” Her breath shuddered out. “Because that’s the way I love him.”
His chest burned.
“I love him…I love you, good and bad. I don’t care about the darkness that you think is taking you over. I can deal with the dark. I can deal with the light. I can deal with everything…” And another tear leaked down her cheek. “Everything but losing you.” She pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue slipped out, licking along his lips, arousing him even more. “I love you.”
Inside of him, there was pain, so much pain. Tearing him apart. Gutting him. The dark was swallowing him whole and the pain was burning his insides but she…
She was still kissing him.
And his need for her pushed past the pain. Another growl tore from him. He caught her hair in his hand and he pulled back her head, giving him better access to her sweet mouth. His tongue thrust inside. He took and took and…
She gave.
There was such terrible pain but she felt right. Good.
And he wasn’t going to let her go.
***
Annette schooled her expression as she stared at Vincent. “I need to get back to Paris.”
A hard banging seemed to suddenly echo through the building. She jumped and her gaze flew behind her.
The banging—the knocking—came again.
Someone’s here, at the door. Someone wants inside this hell-forsaken club.
“Lena,” Vincent snapped. “See who the hell that is.”
Lena’s eyes closed. “It’s the ME, Heider.”
The woman could see something like that without the aid of a scrying mirror? Annette’s suspicions about just what Lena was deepened…and so did her fear. She licked her lips and said, “Garrison was with him earlier. He must have told Heider we were here. Heider was analyzing Paris’s blood. I’d—I’d better go see what he discovered.” She’d stuttered. Oh, hell. She never stuttered. Mostly because she never allowed herself to feel fear. But the fear racing through her blood wasn’t just for herself.
It was for them all.
Paris.
Garrison.
Aidan.
Jane.
We’ve been tricked. By a creature who is the most skilled at tricks.
She hurried from the room. “I’ll go get Heider.” I’ll give him a message. Get him to run and bring back Vivian. Vivian and the whole freaking pack. Because they were about to enter a blood bath.
They were about to face the true end.
She nearly tripped in her haste to get to that front door. She pulled it open, the rusty hinges groaning, and Heider stood there, his tortoiseshell glasses in place, his hair standing a bit on end as if he’d been running his fingers through it all night. When he saw her, he took a quick step back. “Ah, Annette…” She heard the faint click as he swallowed. “Is, um, is Jane here? I really need to talk to her and Garrison said that—”
She grabbed his shirt front and yanked him close. “Go get Vivian.” Her words were barely a breath of sound.
He stared down at the hand fisting his shirt. “Um, yeah, I need Jane. I have to tell her about the tests I did—”
Footsteps tapped behind her. Vincent was coming close. With his vamp hearing, had he picked up on her words to Heider? “Leave,” she said, her voice even softer. “Run.”
Heider backed up. “Jane’s blood was definitely given to Paris. And when I thought about it, I remembered that I’d had samples at my old lab. I’d taken them from her right before everything pretty much went to hell.”
They were in hell. The guy was not getting the freaking hint and Vincent’s steps were coming ever closer.
“I think someone stole her blood and gave it to Paris.” He nodded, decisively. “They stole it from me and used it against Paris.”
“Don’t worry about Paris.” They had another immediate concern. She could practically feel Vincent behind her.
“Maybe the good doctor could help patch up Drew,” Vincent called out. His voice was mild, friendly. Non-threatening. Clever bastard. “Especially since you’ve said I can’t kill him, Annette.”
She caught the slight widening of Heider’s eyes. Really—was he just now seeing the vamp closing in on them? “Go.” This time, she didn’t speak the words at all. She just mouthed them as she frantically conveyed her message. “Go! Enemy. Get help.”
Heider grabbed his phone from his pocket as he stumbled. “Oh, damn, I have a text from the office.” He backed away, fast and looked down at the phone in his hand. “Another dead body. The dead just don’t stop.” Then he turned on his heel. “I’ll be back with—”
Vincent tried to lunge past her and grab Heider, but Annette twisted her body and she threw herself against him as hard as she could, hoping to catch him by surprise. They slammed down onto the floor together. “Run!” She screamed at Heider but he was already running, not even stopping to look back.
She’d always known the man had a very high sense of self-preservation.
“You bitch,” Vincent snarled.
She was on top of him, but she was hardly strong enough to hold down a vampire. He threw her off him, and Annette hurtled through the air. She expected to hit a wall. To feel her back break…
But someone caught her. Strong arms wrapped around her and held her close. “You’re all right.”
What the hell? Her head jerked to the left and she saw that her rescuer was Garrison. Garrison!
He eased her to her feet then pushed her behind him. She peeked over his shoulder and saw that Vincent had risen to his feet. Lena had closed in on their little group, but she just stood there, watching. Not helping Vincent but certainly not doing anything to stop him, either.
But then Lena caught Annette’s eye. She lifted her hands, and the bracelets around her wrists gleamed.
If she’s what I think she is…she can’t help but she sure can destroy us.
Outside, she heard the sound of tires squealing. Heider had gotten away. Now, if he could just bring help—
“You’ll be dead, voodoo queen, long before anyone comes back to you.” Vincent flashed his fangs. “Figured it out, did you? Or maybe you just finally fucking saw the truth in your black glass? Lena said the truth could only hide for so long. The more blood and death that was shed, the more the truth would emerge.” He didn’t even sound worried. “I knew I was working against the clock.”
That was why he’d come to see her at the Voodoo Shop. His little visit made sense now. He’d been trying to figure out just how much she knew.
Too little.
Too damn late.
“Go to Paris,” Garrison told her. “I’ll hold him back.”
“You, pup?” Vincent laughed as he began to stalk toward them. “You can hold nothing back. You’re worthless, useless. You should have died years ago when the vamps took the rest of your family.” His disgust was obvious. “All of the fucking werewolves should be gone. They are nothing but animals, savages, and it’s time for their end.”
She held tight to Garrison’s arm. If she left him, he’d die.
“I was always meant to be the end of the werewolves, I knew it,” Vincent continued. “It just took me a while to realize how that end would come.”
Annette glanced down the long hallway that would lead her back to Paris. Her bag was back there with him. Her weapons.
Shit.
“I was patient. I waited centuries. Then Lena saw Jane…I actually wished for Jane, and she was born. A perfect weapon. A perfect poison.”
Jane’s blood. That’s what he’s talking about. Her blood is the poison. Because her blood had transformed not one, but two werewolves. Turned them into something…else.
“I just had to make sure she was prepared properly. Had to take her away from her family…easy enough to do, I just sent one of my most trusted vamps to kill them. And to mark her. I wanted the world to know what she was.
”
The end.
The symbol that had been soldered into Jane’s skin made sick sense.
“I’d hoped that she and Aidan would come together. When she became a police detective, I even arranged the first murder victim for her to find. I made sure the body was dumped at Aidan’s place so that Jane would meet him. I know what happens when an alpha werewolf gets close to a female vamp-in-waiting.” Smug satisfaction rolled off the bastard. “So I let nature take its course. I waited and—”
“You didn’t count on Jane actually falling in love with Aidan.” The words slipped from her but she knew they were true. “You thought she’d kill him.”
He laughed once more. “Well, of course, she’s going to kill him. She’s killing him tonight. I told you, Jane is my poison. She’s poisoned Aidan with her blood. There is no going back. He dies tonight.” A beat of silence. “And so do you.” He lunged for them and Garrison leaped to meet him, surging forward in a fierce attack.
Chapter Sixteen
Sanity was gone. There was only desire. Desire for blood. Desire for her body. Desire to take and take and take.
He’d ripped her clothes away. But she’d…helped him. She’d shoved out of her jeans. Kicked away her shoes and reached for him with her soft hands that slid like silk over his skin.
His fangs were hard and aching, as aching as the dick that wanted to sink into her.
She was in his hands, his to claim but…
Jane.
Again, the name whispered through the chaos of his mind.
Apples and lavender. Laughter and soft smiles.
His hands curled around her hips. He knew the grip was too rough, that he had to be bruising her, but he couldn’t stop. Her back was against the wall, her legs were locked around his hips, and he was about to drive into her.
He’d take her body and her blood.
He’d take—
“Jane?” Her name tore from him and he held back. Sweat beaded his brow. His muscles trembled, but Aidan didn’t move. Not so much as an inch. He held himself still and clawed to find the man he’d been.
The man worthy of her.
Why was she doing this? Why was she letting him touch her? Why was she kissing his jaw so softly, as if…
As if he were still the man she loved.
He wasn’t. She knew he was a monster. He was so far gone—
“That’s right,” her soft whisper came to him. “I’m your Jane. And you’re my Aidan and nothing or no one will ever come between us.” Her head eased back and she gazed into his eyes. “Stronger together, remember? Strong enough to fight whatever is happening inside of you. Strong enough to find our way through the dark, as long as we’re together.”
“Get…away…from…me…” A hoarse plea, one that came from the depths of his soul.
“I can’t. You’re holding me too tightly.”
And he was. Holding because he could not let go.
But Jane smiled at him. “And I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want to make love with you.”
He wasn’t making love. He was taking. Hurting, destroying—
“Kiss me again, Aidan. Kiss me like you mean it.”
But he didn’t kiss her. He eased her back to her feet and he stepped away. The agony inside of him got even worse, wrenching at his heart as if the damn thing would be yanked right from his chest.
“Aidan?”
He fell to his knees and his claws scraped over the floor. Jane’s hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Aidan? What’s happening?”
His head turned slowly and he stared at her fingers. So delicate. Just as she was. Didn’t she see how close she was to destruction? His gaze lifted and slid over her body. Her curving hips. Her beautiful skin.
The scar, the raised white flesh in the shape of…
The end.
His gaze lingered on that scar. But then Jane sank to her knees beside him.
“I see you in there. I know you’re coming back. Come back,” she urged, “and stay with me.”
He could only shake his head. It didn’t feel as if he were coming back to her. It felt as if his whole body was splitting apart. His very soul being torn from him.
She pressed a kiss to his lips. Another tender touch to the beast. “I love you, Aidan Locke.”
She shouldn’t. She—
Jane pushed him back so that he fell on his ass. Then she crawled on top of him and wrapped her legs around him. They were sitting up, facing each other. Her sex brushed over his cock.
No, Jane, I don’t want to hurt you! A roar from inside of him.
“We’re going to make love, Aidan.”
She kept saying his name, deliberately, he was sure. A hold on the man he’d been.
“We’re going to make love and you’re going to come back to me.”
Then she took his cock and guided it into the entrance of her body. That warm, wet heaven, and when he sank inside of her, he lost the little bit of fucking sanity that had been there. It was too good. She was too good. Tight and hot and clamping down on him.
Heaven.
Hell.
His.
“Look at me.”
His gaze jerked to her face.
“See me,” Jane whispered. “The same way I see you.”
Then she lifted her body up, pushed down. He snapped his teeth together because the urge to bite her was so strong, but he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.
Sex. Fucking.
Love.
Jane.
His hands clamped around her hips and he moved her faster, pushed deeper. Her breath heaved out and she gave a little moan…the breathless cry had to be the sexiest sound in the world.
Give her pleasure.
The whisper came from deep within him.
Give her joy.
A command.
Give her everything.
He pressed his lips to her neck. Not to bite. Not to take. But to kiss because he remembered that was one of her sweet spots. Jane loved it when he licked her there.
He lifted her up, then made sure to plunge into her with a long thrust that took his cock right over her clit.
She loved it when he stroked her just like that.
He withdrew, then sank deeper. And suddenly, they weren’t sitting on that floor. He’d pushed her onto her back, brought her legs up high so that he could go even deeper.
Because she loved that.
His claws were so careful, not scratching her skin. His fingers caressed her. Teasing her breasts just the way she liked. Then he was licking her nipples. Sucking her, getting her to arch against him and shudder as she called out his name.
Aidan.
She came around him. He felt the fierce clench of her orgasm and he couldn’t hold back. Her release sent him right over the edge. He drove into her, over and over, pumping his cock into her and the climax slammed through him.
His heart thundered in his ears. His breath heaved in his chest. And Jane…his Jane curled her arms around his neck.
His head slowly lifted. He stared into her eyes.
Jane smiled at him. “I knew you’d come back to me.”
He kissed her.
Come back? Hell yeah, he’d fucking walk through hell for her.
“Jane,” Aidan rasped. “I love you.”
***
Vincent’s fingers curled around Garrison’s neck and he lifted the wolf high into the air. “You’re not even a damn alpha,” a sneer curled his lips. “What the hell do you think you’ll do against me?”
Annette backed up. She had to do something.
“I was…was thinking…” Garrison gasped. “This.” Then he yanked a gun out from inside his jacket. Her gun, Annette realized. Smart, sneaky wolf. He fired that weapon, again and again. The blast of the gun had Annette’s ears ringing even as blood soaked Vincent’s shirt.
He staggered and dropped Garrison. “F-fucking…bastard…” Vincent spat.
Lena grabbed Annette’s arm. “Silver wo
n’t stop him. The blood loss will barely slow him down. Run.” She pointed toward the main door. The way out of that building.
Run? And leave Paris?
Not an option.
“Run!” Garrison yelled at the same time. He kicked Vincent in the stomach. Clawed at him. “I’ll hold him off—”
Vincent grabbed Garrison and sank his fangs into the young wolf’s throat.
“Go,” Lena whispered.
“You can’t help me,” Annette said.
Lena shook her head.
Garrison shoved Vincent back, but the vamp charged again.
“I know what you are.” Annette backed away from Lena. “I know!”
Sadness flashed on Lena’s face. “Then you know why you need to run.”
No, she knew why she had to get to Paris, fast. “I wish you could be on my side,” she said.
Lena’s eyes gleamed. “So do I.”
Annette glanced at Garrison once more. He was driving his fists into Vincent, again and again, but Vincent wasn’t going down.
It took one hell of a lot to make a vamp like Vincent go down.
She turned and ran—not out of the building, but to Paris. She raced into the back room. He was on his feet, straining against the remaining chains that held him. Still inside her circle. She grabbed her bag, scooped up a chunk of her scrying mirror and—
“Voodoo queen!”
She looked back. Vincent was in the doorway. There was no sign of Garrison or of Lena. Vincent had blood dripping down his chin. He was blocking the only way out of that room.
There was only one place for her to go.
Annette leapt across the line of dirt. She threw her body right at Paris. His arms locked around her and held her tight.
Snarling, Vincent came after her. He tried to jump over that line and come at her, but he slammed into the invisible wall created by her magic.
He fell back on the floor, bellowing his rage.
“Sorry, asshole,” Annette panted, “but the dead can’t cross my line.”
His eyes promised pain as he rose to his feet. He stared at her with fury in his eyes and then…
He laughed.
A chill skated down her spine.
“I can’t cross and neither can he.” Vincent pointed at Paris. A Paris who held her locked in his arms. “How long do you think it will be before he loses his sanity again and goes right for your throat?”