But a clue that werewolves wouldn’t miss.

  “Yes, sir.” Garrison sprang to attention. The guy almost saluted. Jeez. Aidan barely contained an eye roll as Garrison hurried toward the hallway.

  “He’s…improving,” Paris allowed.

  Aidan just raised his brows. Garrison had been trouble from the start but…Aidan understood the guy. No, he felt responsible for him. Garrison’s parents had been killed by a vampire—by the same bastard who had murdered Jane’s mother and her step-father. Aidan had arrived too late to help Garrison’s family, but he had been able to carry the guy—just a kid back then—out of that blood bath.

  And I’ve been watching out for him ever since. Yeah, Garrison could be a pain in the ass but…

  He’s pack. Pack is family. Pack is life.

  “About earlier…” Paris began, his voice a bit stilted.

  Someone save me. Aidan’s brows shot up. “You aren’t about to pull some sentimental BS are you?”

  Paris rolled one shoulder. “Just going to say that you’re a dick most days, but I’d still hate to see anything bad happen to you.”

  “Jane isn’t anything bad.” Now he was getting angry. He was—his phone rang, stopping him before he could say more. Aidan pulled the phone from his pocket and saw Jane’s face on the screen.

  “Speak of the devil,” Paris murmured.

  Aidan’s eyes turned to slits. Don’t keep pushing, Paris.

  Paris coughed. “I’ll just…” He pointed down the hallway. “I’ll go and help Garrison. You know, search for clues. We’ll Scooby Doo the shit out of this place.”

  Aidan growled as his friend retreated. Then he turned his back and put the phone to his ear. “Jane? What’s wrong?”

  A pause, then she said, “You always assume something is wrong.”

  Mostly because with them, something was generally wrong. It wasn’t like she usually called and asked him to pick up milk from the store. Instead she called when people were dying or chaos was erupting. Standard shit for them.

  “I need you to make him forget,” she said, voice soft. “Can you come to the Hathway Psychiatric Facility? I—I hate asking, you know I hate asking, but I’m afraid he’ll just attack again if you don’t use your power on him to make him forget and—”

  “I can’t.”

  “Wh-what? Aidan, please, okay? Please. This is me, begging you for—”

  “You never have to beg me for anything.” He could hear the others in the hallway. They’d just opened a door. It gave a long squeak.

  “Then do this for me. Just—”

  He wished that he could help her. “My power doesn’t work on him.”

  Silence. “What? Aidan, no, that’s not—”

  “I thought it did, the first time I met him. I thought I got him to tell me his secrets, but he was holding back on me.” Aidan had been over that scene, again and again, in his mind. “That’s how he was able to attack. He fooled me, Jane.” It wasn’t something he was proud of admitting. It was something that enraged him. “So making him forget isn’t an option. If you think Drew won’t stop coming after us, then the guy needs to stay locked up or he needs to be taken out.” There were only two options, and Aidan knew which option he favored.

  Kill the bastard.

  The problem was that the bastard in question was Jane’s brother.

  A brother who fired fucking silver bullets at me. Aidan still didn’t know where the guy had gotten those bullets. Drew had acted shocked to learn Aidan was a werewolf. But if he already had silver bullets, where had the fucking shock come from?

  “I can’t kill my own brother,” she whispered.

  Why not, baby? He killed you. But Aidan didn’t say those brutally true words.

  Another door squeaked open, the sound coming from the back of the hallway. Garrison and Paris were continuing their search. They were—

  Snick.

  A bitter, acidic scent hit Aidan’s nose. He whirled, every primal instinct he possessed screaming at him. “No!” Aidan bellowed as he dropped the phone and rushed down the hallway. “Get out! Get—”

  Paris turned toward him. His face showed his shock—and his fear. He must have caught the scent in the air, too. Maybe he’d heard that faint snick sound. Paris was starting to run back toward Aidan.

  Garrison still stood frozen in the doorway. His head jerked at Aidan’s roar. He looked at Aidan, utterly terrified, his wide gaze holding the same wild fear that it had possessed when he was a child. When Aidan found him covered in blood, cowering in that death-filled house that had been Garrison’s home.

  “Aidan?” Garrison mouthed his name.

  Then the flames erupted. They shot out of the room behind Garrison and the force of that blast lifted him up, throwing the younger wolf toward Aidan.

  And then the fire seemed to swallow them all.

  ***

  The sunlight poured down on Jane as she stood just outside of the Hathway Psychiatric Facility. That light was too bright. Too hot. “Aidan?” Jane whispered.

  But there was nothing. No response. No whisper of breath. Not even any beeping to signal they’d been disconnected.

  “Aidan?” She’d heard him yelling for someone to get out. There had been fear in his voice. Aidan wasn’t normally afraid. He wasn’t…

  The bright sky was suddenly dark. Her head tilted as she stared up at a big, black puff of smoke that was rising in the air, rising near the French Quarter.

  Jane slowly lowered the phone as she stared at that smoke. Aidan. No, no, it didn’t have to be him. The smoke did not have to be related to Aidan. It didn’t have to be, but—

  Her chest hurt. She felt as if someone were trying to carve out her heart. Trying to take her heart right from her.

  She started running down the stone steps that led to the street.

  “Jane?” It was Vivian’s worried voice, calling out after her. “Jane, we need to—”

  Jane didn’t stop. She ran for her car. She dialed Aidan again on her phone, but he didn’t answer. The phone just kept ringing.

  Be okay. Be alive. Be—

  A strong hand grabbed Jane’s shoulder and spun her around.

  “What’s happening?” Vivian demanded as her hold tightened on Jane.

  Jane tried to think—tried to shove back the fear that wanted to swallow her so she could focus. Captain Harris. Vivian had connections she could use. “I’m afraid something happened to Aidan…”

  I’m afraid…The very stark truth that cut straight to her soul.

  I’m afraid.

  ***

  Fire engulfed the historic building at the edge of the French Quarter. The windows had exploded and glass littered the street. Jane ran toward the two-story building, leaving her car haphazardly parked near the curb, and fighting her way past the firefighters and cops who’d just arrived. Broken glass crunched beneath her boots and her frantic gaze stayed on that blaze.

  Aidan might not be inside. He might not. He might—

  “Get the hell off me!” A dark, dangerous bellow. A familiar bellow that stopped Jane in her tracks. “I have to get back in there—my best friend is in that building!”

  Her gaze whipped toward that voice. Paris. He was there, currently being held back by five police officers. His clothes were half-burned. Singe covered him, and she could see blisters on his face and arms.

  “Let him go!” Vivian bellowed as she rushed to Jane’s side.

  If Paris is here…

  The flames crackled.

  The cops looked at Vivian, recognized her, and followed her orders. They let Paris go and he surged to his feet, running toward the flames.

  But Jane jumped in his path. She shoved her hands against his chest. “Stop! Not another step until you tell me exactly what is happening!”

  The firefighters were spraying water at the building, trying desperately to control the blaze. It had already spread to the next building.

  “Freaking six alarm fire,” one of the uniformed firef
ighters snapped as he shot past them, his mask in place. “That’s what’s happening. The whole building is about to collapse, and we got reports that people are still trapped inside.”

  People? Jane stared at Paris. At his burns. “Aidan?” Saying his name hurt.

  Paris flinched. “Aidan tossed me out a second story window,” he confessed. She realized his right arm was twisted at an…unnatural angle and he was dragging his left leg. “The flames started—a bomb of some sort—seconds after we opened that back bedroom door in the second floor apartment.”

  “Aidan’s still inside?” Jane whispered back to him.

  His grim nod chilled her.

  Jane turned and ran for the building.

  She’d barely taken five steps when Paris tackled her right to the ground. “You can’t go in!”

  She rolled beneath him and tossed the guy off her. Even weakened during the day, she was still powerful. Vampire strength, got to love—

  He grabbed her arms and jerked her toward him. “Know the fastest way to kill a vamp?” His voice was a deadly rumble. Behind him, Vivian was barking orders to the cops—and even to the firefighters. “It’s fire. You go into those flames, and you don’t come out.”

  “He hasn’t come out!” Did Paris think that Jane was just going to stay out there while Aidan died?

  “And if I let you burn, Aidan will take my head,” Paris said the words with utter certainty. “Stay here, Jane. I’ll go back in for him. Shit, I already would have been inside, but I blacked out when my head hit the concrete.”

  She could see blood trickling down the side of his head.

  “Stay here,” he said, voice low. “I’ll get him.”

  Jane nodded. She didn’t want to fight Paris. She also didn’t want to waste time.

  He let her go. He ran toward the building, shoving firefighters out of his way. Jane sucked in a deep breath and the smoke burned her lungs. She watched as a firefighter tried to stop Paris from rushing inside.

  Not going to work. Paris was too determined. After a brief battle, Paris heaved the fellow to the side, then ran right into the flames.

  Now it’s my turn. Jane eased out a slow breath. If Paris thought she was just going to stand outside like some good little vampire, he needed to think again. Jane grabbed the smallest firefighter she saw—one who was only a few inches taller than she was. “Give me that uniform,” Jane snarled. The uniform had to be better protection than her faded leather jacket. Firefighters wore turnout gear—she knew that stuff was supposed to be waterproof, heatproof and as damn sturdy as possible. If anything was going to save her vamp skin from the flames, that uniform would do the trick.

  “My uniform?” The firefighter—a woman—stared at her in confusion. “Lady, you’re crazy. You need to step behind the safe zone and let me do my job.”

  Jane’s fangs burst out. She couldn’t help it. She was scared and her adrenaline surge had her blood nearly boiling. “Give. Me. The. Uniform.”

  The female firefighter backed up. “What in the hell?”

  “Give her the uniform,” Vivian advised as she closed in. “You really don’t want to fight on this…”

  Screw fighting. If she had to do it, Jane would knock that woman out and take the gear. The scene was chaos. No one was paying any attention and—

  “The place is about to collapse!” Two other firefighters ran out of the building. “Everyone needs to get clear, now!”

  Jane yanked the coat off the other woman and snatched her mask. She’d take what she could get and she would haul ass.

  Hold on, Aidan. I’m coming. It was her turn to save him.

  Vivian yanked the gloves off the stunned female firefighter. “Take those, too, Jane, and hurry.”

  ***

  Jane Hart was going into the fire.

  A suicide mission, of course. Vampires burned ever so quickly. But…

  He lifted the binoculars to his eyes and watched her. She was going inside. Donning a firefighter’s coat and mask, as if those items would help her. The trap he’d left burned particularly hot. He’d intended for the whole place to be destroyed.

  He’d also aimed to take out any pesky wolves who’d come snooping. He wasn’t interested in wolves. They were just beasts. Dogs that were in the way.

  Vampires interested him.

  Jane interested him. After all, she was his assignment. She had been, for quite some time. Longer than she could possibly realize.

  The end. Oh, the stories that were spreading about her. Was she truly the one the vampires sought? He wasn’t so sure, not yet.

  Especially since she was doing dumbass shit like running into a fire.

  “Should have let him burn,” he muttered. “Fire hurts like a bitch when it bites you.”

  What would Jane look like when she came out of the fire? No longer so beautiful. No longer so perfect.

  If she even came out…

  Love. People were always spouting about how they’d risk everything for love. In Jane’s case, it seemed that she truly might just do that.

  Risk her life.

  For a monster.

  Pity. He hadn’t realized she was insane. Maybe the vampire transformation had done that to her? Pushed her over an edge? And now Jane couldn’t control herself.

  She had a death wish.

  Wish granted, Jane. Wish fucking granted.

  Chapter Five

  She nearly tripped over Paris. The guy was on the stairs, slumped down, choking on the smoke and flames.

  Jane grabbed him and shook the werewolf, hard. You were supposed to help with the rescue. Not become someone else I had to haul out of here! “Paris!”

  His eyes were closed.

  And his head was bleeding—again. Or maybe it had never stopped bleeding.

  She tightened her grip on him and hauled the guy up the stairs. There wasn’t any time to go back outside. She could already hear the groans and creaks above her. The last thing she wanted was to waste time getting Paris out and then trying to run back into the building—that could be time that Aidan didn’t have.

  So she made it to the top of the stairs. There was only one door up there, one apartment from the look of things. The door to that apartment swung open. Had the firefighters bashed it in before they had to retreat? Maybe. Probably.

  Smoke rises and I can barely see anything.

  Jane went into that apartment and dragged Paris with her. Where are you, Aidan? Where?

  Paris had said they were near the back bedroom when everything went to hell, right? So she kept walking straight ahead. The flames were on the walls, rolling above her and—

  Paris was screaming. She looked back and saw that flames were on his legs. Oh, hell. She swatted her hands at them, trying to put the flames out. Then she focused on Paris, staring at him through the thin frame of the mask she wore.

  His grim expression said what she was thinking.

  We’re both going to die in here.

  No, they weren’t. Because she’d just spotted an open window. Well, open in the sense that the glass had been blown out of it by the fire. Flames were everywhere. She was pretty much afraid to breathe, worried the heat would singe her lungs and she’d be DRT. A phrase she’d heard firefighters toss around before.

  Dead right there.

  She inched closer to that window. Flames started to eat at Paris’s legs once again. I’m sorry. She squeezed her eyes shut and then threw him toward the window. He’d survived one fall…surely he’d survive another? Please survive another.

  Paris never made a sound as his body hurtled to the street below.

  Now she just had to get Aidan and get him out of there. Once Aidan was clear of the building, he’d be able to give Paris his blood and heal any injuries that the other werewolf had just sustained. That wonderful magical werewolf alpha blood was a cure-all.

  I just have to find Aidan and get him out.

  She turned back toward what she thought had been the hallway. She shuffled forward and saw flames
up ahead, thick, greedy flames on the floor of that hallway and—

  The flames are Aidan.

  For an instant, the world stopped. It just stopped. Because he was burning, right in front of her.

  “No!” Jane screamed the cry and heat singed her lungs. She ran forward, and her gloved fingers reached Aidan. He was burning so much—was he even alive? How could he be? The flames were eating at him, covering his back and his arms and—

  Aidan.

  She grabbed him with one hand and threw him toward the wall—but the wall gave way and Aidan flew right through it. He hurtled down to the street below.

  At least he’s out of the building. His wounds would be terrible, but he’d heal. He had to heal.

  She stood there, her shoulders heaving, tears on her cheeks as she stared down at Aidan on the street below. He’d slammed into a parked car, denting the roof. Vivian and a few police officers swarmed near him and a firefighter sprayed at the flames still burning Aidan’s body.

  He can heal from that. Aidan can heal from anything. She wouldn’t think of any other option. Jane stepped toward the gaping hole she’d just inadvertently created, intending to leap down to him. Screw any humans who might watching—they could just toss her actions up to a trick caused by all the smoke and flames.

  The ceiling groaned above her.

  She inched toward the edge of the building. It looked like such a big drop from up there. But I’m a vamp. I can handle this fall…right? Why was she even hesitating? Aidan and Paris had both not been given any option on the fall. She closed her eyes, wished for a safe landing and—

  And something grabbed her foot. No, not something. Someone. Jane looked down and saw Garrison staring up at her. His face was ash streaked and blistered, but—

  He’s not covered in flames. Aidan was shielding him from the fire. That’s why Aidan was still inside the apartment. That’s why he was crouched in that hallway, he was leaning over Garrison, shielding Garrison with his own body. Shielding Garrison, as Aidan had burned.