Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3) (2 page)

He swallowed and his claws cut into her skin. She stiffened at the first cut but didn’t make a sound, just as she promised. No moans of pain. No screams. Nothing.

But Aidan saw the tear that slid down her silken cheek and it felt as if she’d just gutted him.

One bullet. It came out easily—
a fucking wooden bullet.

He’d known the men weren’t firing silver bullets. As soon as they’d hit him, he’d known. But…

Wooden bullets meant they were in that alley for one purpose—to kill a vampire. To kill my Jane.

His claws reached a second bullet. He pulled it out. Stained with her blood. So small.

So dangerous.

The third bullet was next. He had to dig deeper to get it. Still, Jane didn’t cry out. She was statue still beneath him. No anesthesia, no drugs at all. Just feeling the pain that
he
gave to her.

He wanted to kill those bastards in that alley all over again.

The fourth bullet was the hardest to get. Nausea swirled in him because he had to cut her so deeply to get it out. Her breath rasped out and another tear slid down her cheek. His fingers were shaking worse and he was afraid—

“I love you, Aidan,” Jane whispered.

She trusted him with her life.

He got that bullet out. Flung it across the room. Then he was putting his wrist back to her mouth. “Drink, now.” Because his blood was special. Sure, all werewolf blood was strong, downright delicious for a vamp, but…

An alpha werewolf’s blood could heal like no other.

Jane’s lips pressed to his pulse. Her little fangs slid into his skin. His eyes closed as he released a slow breath. Jane was alive. Jane was okay. Jane was safe…
again.
She drank from him and he bent his head, relief surging through him. His Jane.
His
fucking Jane.

Right then, he wanted to pull her close. To hold her against his heart and know that she was safe.

And after that…

He wanted to beat her sweet ass.

She’d told him that she was just going for a walk. A fucking walk. How had a walk turned into that blood bath?

Her tongue licked over his wrist. She pressed a soft kiss to his hand. “Thank you.” The words were soft, husky. He knew sleep pulled at her. She’d heal while she slept.

His fingers slid over her cheek, wiping away the tears. “When you wake up, we’re talking.”

Her long lashes cast a shadow over her cheek.

“You’re not doing this shit again,” Aidan growled. “You can’t risk yourself like this. I won’t allow it.” He was the alpha in the city. The one who controlled all the paranormals. And as of very, very recently…Jane was no longer human.

She was a paranormal, just like the others under his command.

Whether she liked it or not, she had to follow his orders.

And order number one for his beautiful Jane…

Don’t get hurt.
Because her pain gutted him.

A sharp knock sounded at his office door. He knew only one wolf would have the balls to see him right then, only one guy would have been able to get past the guards below—Aidan’s first in command, Paris Cole.

Jane’s breathing was deep, easy. Humans thought vampires didn’t breathe—that they were cold. That their hearts didn’t beat. But that was all bullshit. Hollywood hype. Vampires breathed. Their hearts beat. They
lived.

Their deaths were fleeting. They came back, stronger, far more powerful than ever.

He turned and headed for the door. Jane’s blood was still on his hands when he yanked that door open. Paris stood there, one brow raised and curiosity glinting in his golden eyes. The tall, African American wolf was dressed in a tux, and he looked as far from a beast as it was possible to get.

Then Paris inhaled and his gaze dropped to focus on the blood that coated Aidan’s hands. “What happened?”

“An ambush.” He stepped back so that his best friend could enter the office. At least, that was what it had looked like to him.
Jane went for a walk and wound up nearly dead.

“Someone tried to take you on?” Paris demanded as he crossed the threshold.

“No.” Aidan shook his head. “Someone tried to take out Jane.”

Paris’s gaze immediately cut toward the couch—and a heavily sleeping Jane. Her back was still bare and bloody. “Sonofabitch.” His hands tightened into fists. “I’m assuming the fools are dead?”

“Good assumption.” Aidan nodded. “And I’ll be taking a team out to the alley because I want to personally search the scene. They had
wooden
bullets. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did…” But he stopped because he wasn’t going to finish that sentence.

He felt his friend’s gaze on him. Once more, Paris inhaled and then he said, voice halting, “All of the blood isn’t hers.”

No.

“You were shot,” Paris added.

He’d barely felt the pain. Now, he just shoved his claws into his gut and pulled out the two bullets. “Wood, not silver. They were for her, not me.” He’d just been in the way so the blond bastard had fired at him.

But Jane?
Those two had wanted to kill her.

Paris gave a low whistle. “Okay, the way I see it…we have a few very big problems.” He paced toward the couch. Toward Jane. He put his hands on his hips as he stared down at her sleeping form. “Problem one…Jane’s secret is out. Obviously, there are people who know exactly what your girlfriend is.”

Vampire.
Only Jane hadn’t been a vamp, not until a few days before. Then her human life had ended and—well, shit, they were still adjusting to the change.

His pack was adjusting.

He was adjusting.

So the hell was she.

Normally, vamps and werewolves were natural enemies. When a werewolf scented a vampire, the primitive instinct to attack, to kill, took over. As an alpha werewolf, Aidan should have immediately killed Jane when she turned.

But he hadn’t.

Because she’s mine.

Jane wasn’t like other vampires. Because of him, werewolf blood had flowed in her veins before her change. So when she’d transformed, she hadn’t just woken as a vampire. She was something so much more.

And too many people were afraid of that
more.

Some in New Orleans believed that Jane was too dangerous. That she was going to be the end of them all.

“Since Jane is so new to the vamp world,” Paris continued, voice thoughtful, “humans shouldn’t know what she is, not yet. Hell, I would only think
one
vamp in town knew what she was.”

The vampire who’d helped to end Jane’s human life. Vincent Connor. Only that bastard had made himself absent lately. Probably because he knew Aidan intended to kill him at the absolute first opportunity.
Payback is coming, asshole.

Paris glanced back at him. “You think Vincent is spreading the word about her?”

Aidan’s claws were still out. “I think it’s past time for me to have a little one-on-one chat with the guy.”

Paris exhaled slowly. “Problem two…The people who know Jane’s secret? Well, the fact that she’s covered in blood means they want her dead. They know what she is, and they want to end her.”

Obviously. “Two humans were in the alley with her. Neither of them made it out alive.” That meant there were two less people hunting Jane.

“So either they’re the only two who were involved in this mess and the threat to her is already gone or…” Paris shook his head. “Or there’s a boss somewhere, hiding in the shadows. Someone who set that attack in motion.”

That was precisely what Aidan feared. “Stay with Jane.” The order came out fast and hard. There were two people in the world that Aidan trusted completely. Paris…

And Jane.

“Uh, I stay—and what do you do?” Paris asked as his brow furrowed.

“I go back to the alley. I follow any scents left behind.” Because no one else had a nose like an alpha. “And I hunt down any other fools who were in on the attack tonight.” He knew the attack went beyond the two humans who’d died that night. More was at play, he could feel it. When it came to the paranormal world, there was always more at work than what met the eye. It was a rule to live by.

He hurried back to Jane. She slept deeply, a healing sleep. His hand lifted and his bloody fingers lightly smoothed over her cheek.

“Yeah,” Paris’s voice was grim. “That brings me to problem three.”

Aidan pulled his hand away from Jane, but before he could move back, Paris had grabbed his wrist. Paris turned over Aidan’s hand, staring at the faint bite marks on his inner wrist.

“Problem three.” Paris slowly lifted his gaze to meet Aidan’s. “Problem three is that you can’t keep giving her your blood.”

Aidan yanked his hand away from Paris. “What the hell did you think I was going to do? Let Jane bleed to death?” Hell, no. Not an option for him.

“I think…I think you have to be careful.” Paris seemed to measure his words. “Every time that you give her your blood…she could become more powerful.”

Aidan tensed. “You worried she’ll grow too strong?”

“I worry that she isn’t done changing.” The faint lines near Paris’s mouth tightened. “And that you aren’t, either. You’re giving her your blood, man. A werewolf wasn’t meant to feed a vamp that way.”

A werewolf wasn’t meant to feed a vamp at all. They were supposed to be natural enemies.

“We don’t know what the connection you have with her…” Paris said doggedly. “We don’t know what it will do to you. Or her.”

Because there’d never been another mated pair like him and Jane. When she’d transformed, she should have killed him.

He’d been duty bound to kill her but…

I didn’t. Neither did she.
“Watch her,” he snapped out. “Make sure that she stays in this room until I get back.” He turned on his heel and stalked to the bathroom. A new sink and countertop gleamed in the spacious bathroom. He washed his hands at that sink, watching his blood and Jane’s blood disappear down the drain. Then, his hands free of blood—for the moment—he marched back into his office. “You
are
going to keep her here, right, Paris?” He threw out the question as he headed for the door.

“Oh, right,” Paris drawled. “Because it’s easy to keep a super vamp in place. I mean…the woman is just prophesized to be
the end.
No big deal. I’ve definitely got this covered.”

Aidan glanced back at him and Aidan just
stared
at his best friend for a moment. Stared, glared, same thing.

Paris swallowed. And straightened. “Right, alpha.” He gave a quick little smart-ass salute. “She won’t leave the room.”

Good. Because when Aidan got back, he and Jane were going to fucking clear the air. She didn’t get to risk herself over and over. She didn’t get to run into danger.

She was his.

And if something happened to her…

I will go insane.

Hell, maybe he already was insane. Plenty of his pack members suspected he was. After all, what sane werewolf would mate with a vampire?

I would. I’d do anything for Jane.

That was the problem.

But he was also the paranormal boss in the city, and it was time that Jane started paying attention to the rules in place.
His
rules.

The alley was clean. It had looked like a blood bath just an hour before but now the place was practically spotless.

Aidan’s nostrils twitched.

Bleach.
Someone had even used damn bleach at the scene. He stared down at the ground. A body should have been there, close to the trash bin. The blond bastard that he’d killed with his claws. But the guy was gone. So was his partner.

A low whistle came from behind him. Aidan didn’t move at the sound. He waited as Garrison, one of his younger pack members, approached. Garrison’s arm brushed against Aidan’s as he studied the scene. “Somebody sure moved fast, alpha,” Garrison mused.

Somebody sure as hell had.

And the bleach was overpowering—nearly wiping out all the other scents.

“At least we don’t have to clean up the bodies, though,” Garrison added, his voice sounding a bit brighter. “That’s something, right?”

Aidan turned his head and focused on the redheaded wolf. Garrison was still young—Aidan reminded himself of that fact for about the hundredth time.
He’s young. He’ll learn. He’s only an asshole some days.
“The bodies would have told me something.” But now—

He stiffened. He’d just caught sight of a faint green light from the corner of his eye. A light that should
not
have been in that alley. His head tilted up, then to the left.
There.
Small, dark—a video camera. The faint green light was glowing from the bottom corner of the camera.

Someone is watching.

His eyes narrowed on that camera. Someone had been watching while Jane was attacked? While she lay on the ground, fighting for her life? And now…someone was
still
watching as he came to find answers.

“Uh, alpha…” Garrison began nervously.

Aidan leapt up into the air—far higher than any basketball player could ever dream. His claws drove into the camera and he wrenched it down.

No more green light. No more watching.

The wolves who’d come with him to that alley were dead silent.

A video camera
…one that had recorded a vampire and a werewolf that night. “Trace it,” Aidan ordered. When it came to tech, his pack knew their shit. “Find out where the feed was going. Find out who the hell put this camera up there. Find out…” His voice dropped to a growl. “Who was watching.”

Who was watching while Jane nearly died.

***

The dream came again. Dream, nightmare, memory—to Jane, there was no difference.

She was tied down, secured on the top of an old table. In the basement of
her
house. When she turned her head, Jane could see her mom. Her mother was tossed on the floor, her limbs all twisted and a big pool of red underneath her body. Her dad…he was there, too. Another quick turn of her head showed Jane her dad’s form. The only father she’d ever known, not by blood, but by love. He’d loved her so much, all the way until the very end.

His eyes were still open, but she didn’t think he saw her, not anymore.

“
There, there…no need for tears, little one. It’s all for you
.” That voice was back. The voice she hated. Mean and cold and cruel and she wouldn’t look at him. She just
wouldn’t.

“We waited a long time for you. You’d better not disappoint.”

She looked back at her dad. This was her house. Her mom’s house. Her dad’s house. They were supposed to be safe there.
Why aren’t we safe?

“You can scream if you want,” that cold voice told her.

It was all the warning she got. Pain came then. So hot. Burning, branding. She screamed and screamed but it didn’t stop. And she could smell something—something funny. Something—

It’s me. I’m burning.

Her voice broke and her cries stopped.

“Good girl.”

She didn’t want to be good. Not if he liked that.

“I’ll be back soon.” He stroked back her hair, and his green eyes gleamed down at her. “We’ll take a little break. Let you get a bit of strength back so that we can finish things up.” His blond hair was swept away from his face. A face that seemed so normal.

It isn’t. He’s not normal. He’s evil. Monster. Monster. Monster!

Vampire.

There were no tears on her cheeks. She’d stopped crying after…
Daddy.

The green-eyed man—
monster—
shut the door on the way out. Her home. He had taken over as if he owned the place.
They had
. In the middle of the night, monsters had come for her. Her mom had told her that monsters weren’t real. That she should never be afraid of them.

Her mom had been wrong.

She heard faint squeaks. The softest of rustles. Her eyes had closed. When had they closed? She should look around and see what was happening.

But she was afraid and she didn’t think she wanted to see anything else.

Her right side kept hurting. Throbbing. She could still smell that terrible scent in the air.
I think that’s me.

“Mary Jane…” A soft voice called. Her brother Drew’s voice. “Mary Jane…are you okay?”

Don’t be here. Don’t. Run away.

“Y-you didn’t tell them I was here.”

Now she did cry. One long tear slid down her cheek.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna get you out.”

She shook her head and kept her eyes closed. But she felt him pulling on the ropes that held her ankles down. There was a faint sawing motion. It sounded so loud to her ears. She was afraid
he
would hear. “Stop.” The barest of whispers.

But the rope gave way. Her legs were free and her feet
hurt
because it felt like needles were shoved into them. She bit her lower lip as hard as she could, trying to hold back her cries. Now wasn’t the time to scream. She knew that.

Her eyes opened.

Her dad’s sightless eyes stared back at her.

No, look away. Look away!

Then the rope was gone from her wrists. Sawed away. He’d cut her wrists with the knife he had, but she didn’t care about that small pain. Then he was pulling her, pushing her toward the window. Such a small window. They were in the basement. And that window was up high.

“I’ll go through first,” he said. He shimmied up and vanished.

I don’t want to leave mom and dad.
But…they were already gone. They’d left her. They weren’t suffering anymore. No one could ever make them suffer again.

“Mary Jane!” Drew reached down for her. His hand was small, barely bigger than hers. Dirty. Bloody. “Come with me, Mary Jane!”

Had he been hiding during everything? Hiding and waiting? He’d seen everything, too, just as she had. She looked up into his eyes—eyes that were the exact shade of her own. He’d been crying. He never cried.

Her gaze darted back to his hand just as she heard the basement door opening—the faintest of clicks from the top of the stairs. The monster was coming for her again.

She grabbed for the dirty little hand, and he pulled her up, yanking with all of his strength. Her body slid through the narrow opening of the window. Her shoulders. Her chest. Her stomach. Her—

The monster grabbed her feet.

”
No!”
she screamed. And then she held that dirty little hand even tighter. “Drew, help me!”

***

The nightmare-slash-dream-slash-walk-into-hell faded. Jane cracked open one eye. She wasn’t in the old basement any longer. Her face was shoved into a familiar leather couch—Aidan’s couch. She moved just a bit and saw the floor of his office and—

Legs. Legs in fancy black pants.

“Rise and shine, Jane,” an amused voice murmured. A voice that did
not
belong to Aidan.

Her head lifted and she stared at Paris. He smiled at her.

And she realized she was naked from the waist up. Good thing she’d only lifted her head. Jane took stock of her body, checking for aches and pains, but she actually felt good. No, better than good.
Strong. Powerful.

She flexed her back but didn’t feel the pull from her wounds.

“Already healed,” Paris told her, rather helpfully. “It was quite amazing to watch, really. Your skin just starting closing about an hour ago. Like it was stitching itself up.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Um.”

That wasn’t an answer.

So she tried a different question. “Where’s Aidan?”

“Where else?” He waved one hand in a rather bored gesture. “Out looking for the men who attacked you. Come on, Jane. You know how he gets. Anyone hurts you and he flips the hell out.” Some of the amusement slipped from his golden eyes. “A very dangerous thing for an alpha of his power.”

“The men who attacked me are dead.” She distinctly remembered sending one to hell. “So there was no need—”

“Aidan thinks more is at play. More involved in the game than just two humans deciding they were going to kill you. After all, they were packing wooden bullets.” He walked to Aidan’s desk and lifted one blood-stained bullet. The bloody bullets had been lined up in a neat little row on top of the desk. “Wooden bullets mean they were after special prey. They knew what you were, and they were ready to see you die.”

She swallowed. Twice. “How—how did—” Jane broke off. Okay, no, she would not keep talking to him without a shirt on. “Turn around.”

He quirked one brow but did as she asked. Paris was the charmer, the lady killer. So, yes, he’d probably seen hundreds of women without their tops, but he wasn’t seeing
her
that way.

She sat up and quickly grabbed for a nearby jacket—one that smelled of Aidan. She pulled it on and rose to her feet. Her steps weren’t even shaky as she paced away from the couch. Definite improvement considering that when she’d arrived in Aidan’s office, just breathing had been hard.

Jane headed for the bathroom. She’d wash off the blood that still marked her body, get the extra clothes that Aidan kept for her in the bathroom closet, and then she could square off with Paris.

“You shouldn’t keep taking his blood.”

Jane’s steps faltered. “Um, I was dying.”

“That’s a habit you have. A rather nasty one.” He turned to face her. “Do you just expect him to appear these days? Kind of like Lois Lane and Superman? You think you can tackle anything because your safety net will always be there to save the day? To save
you
?”

He was angry and that wasn’t like Paris. Normally, he was the mellow one. And… “I’m not Lois Lane. He’s not Superman.” And she wasn’t waiting around for
anyone
to save her.

“Right. Not Superman.” Paris nodded. “Aidan’s an alpha werewolf and you’re a vampire. The two of you should stay as far away from each other as possible.”

Even with the coat, a chill skated over her body. “Do we have a problem, Paris?” Because she hadn’t thought so but…

Jane was still new to the vamp life, but she realized there were plenty of werewolves out there who didn’t like what she was—didn’t like
her.

I just didn’t suspect Paris was one of them.

Testing now, she eased out a quick breath and said, “When you’re near me, do you want to attack?” Because that was the werewolf way. Get close to a vamp and primitive instincts take over and—

“You made yourself different.”

She didn’t know what he meant.

“Aidan’s blood,” Paris gritted out. “You had too much of it before your transformation, so when you became a vampire—that blood of his changed with you. You’re not just a vamp, Jane. You’re more—hell, I don’t even know
what
you really are.”

That was…insulting?

Scary?

Both, Jane decided. Definitely both.

“He changed you,” Paris said, a muscle jerking along his hard jaw. “And I’m worried that you’re changing him.”

“I-I need to get the blood off me.” No, what she needed was to get away from Paris for a few moments because Jane didn’t know what to say to him. She turned away. “Excuse me a moment, would you?”

“Stop taking his blood.”

Her hand grabbed the bathroom’s door frame. “You know I can only take werewolf blood.” She’d tried to drink human blood—both bagged and from a live source. She’d vomited it right back up. Jane licked her lips. “You’re right. Aidan’s blood did change me—it altered something inside of me so that I crave werewolf blood.”
Not human blood.
“If I didn’t get it…” Her hold tightened on the door frame. “I would die.”

Silence.

Then, after a tense moment, Paris asked, “Will any werewolf’s blood work? Or is it just Aidan’s that you crave?”

Would it? Jane didn’t know. It wasn’t as if other werewolves had been offering up their blood for her to try. She hurried into the bathroom, shut the door and made certain not to look at herself in the mirror.

The whole mirror-avoidance routine wasn’t because of the old legend about vamps not having a reflection. She still had one.

She didn’t look because she was afraid she’d see a monster staring back at her.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Jane turned the water on in the shower. Aidan had one lush bathroom—and the shower was certainly big enough for two.

But she didn’t linger to enjoy the hot water. She showered briskly, watching the blood turn the water red before it disappeared down the drain. Paris’s words had gotten beneath her skin.
Changing Aidan.

Was it even possible for a vamp to change a werewolf? She had no clue. But Jane knew someone who might be able to answer that question…

Too bad that
someone
was the vampire who’d broken her neck a few days before.
Vincent Connor.
He was a powerful born vampire who she really didn’t want to see, not ever again.

Unfortunately, he was the only man who might have the answers that she needed.

She dried off and opened the nearby closet. Aidan kept her clothes in there—his, too, of course. He had to keep extra clothes on hand because when he shifted into the form of a wolf, well, his shirts and pants had a tendency to shred.

And when your lover was a werewolf who had incredible strength…
my clothes tend to shred when he takes them off me.

So…extra clothes.

She pulled on fresh jeans and a loose shirt and after sliding her shoes on, Jane hurried back to face Paris. He was standing in front of Aidan’s desk, a wooden bullet still cradled in his fingers.