Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(22)

Jane. Being zipped up into a body bag.

Ah, Jane…I know you won’t stay dead.

So did his boss.

***

Jane opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Darkness surrounded her, complete and total. Her body ached and her fangs throbbed in her mouth. She strained, trying to see through the dark, trying to find light, but there was nothing.

Where is Aidan? What happened to me?

Her hands lifted and she discovered that something was over her. Some kind of—of fabric? Hard, rough. She kicked out with her legs and found that they were trapped, too. It was as if she were sealed up in something. Locked up.

Bagged.

Oh, my God, no. Understanding hit her with a brutal punch. A body bag.

Revulsion built in her chest and she clawed at the bag above her head. Clawed until it ripped beneath her fingers and cool air spilled down to her. Air and light and—

“Easy, Jane.”

She stilled.

A hand—with slightly plump fingers and super soft skin—touched her wrist. “You’re okay,” that reassuring voice told her. “A whole lot of humans just saw your swan dive out of the burning building, so Vivian and I had to do the best damage control we could.” He pulled her up, easing her out of the bag.

She stared at Dr. Bob Heider, chief medical examiner. The medical examiner’s eyes were worried behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. The lines on his face were deeper and he smelled of smoke.

Wait, maybe that’s me. I’m the smoky one.

“Had to tag you and bag you,” he murmured, wincing a bit. “After all, everyone on the scene thought you were a corpse.”

“I’m not.” The words came out sounding funny because her fangs were fully extended. She was so freaking thirsty.

She was also sitting in the remains of her own body bag. Jane knew this horror scene would play through her head too many nights to come. Just what I needed. A new nightmare.

“Well, if we’re going to get technical,” Dr. Bob began, voice taking on that weird musing tone of his.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Aidan.” He’d better not be in a body bag, too—

“He still had a pulse on scene.” Dr. Bob’s lips turned down. “Vivian saw to it that he and Garrison were taken out to the werewolf compound for treatment. She’s with them, don’t worry. She’ll make sure they are taken care of.”

“You should be with them. You’re the doctor who knows the score about them.” Long before she’d stumbled into the werewolf world, Dr. Bob Heider had been on Aidan’s payroll. Dr. Bob was the ME who always handled the paranormal cases. Or rather, he was the doc who made sure the paranormal victims never found their way into civilian hands. “You could help Aidan! You could—” But Jane stopped. She’d just realized that her hand looked funny. Dr. Bob still gripped her wrist with his soft fingers but her…her nails were wrong. Too long. Too sharp. A dark black.

They weren’t nails at all. They were claws.

Claws like a werewolf would have. She’d clawed her way out of that bag.

“I saw them at the scene,” he told her and his fingers slid away from her wrist. “Once I glimpsed that new manicure job of yours, I figured you’d need me when you woke up.” He paused. “After all, the alpha can heal from anything, right? But you…I didn’t know about you.”

Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t look away from those claws. “How do I make them go away?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do I—” But then her head snapped up. She stared at him, her mind slowly processing all that he’d said in the moments after she’d woken. “Aidan…and Garrison.” Aidan was alive. Alive! Dr. Bob had said they’d been taken to the werewolf compound—she knew that safe haven was hidden deep in the swamp. But they hadn’t been the only werewolves in the fire. “What about…Paris?”

Dr. Bob looked away from her.

No, he wasn’t looking away. He was looking at the other black body bag on the nearby exam table.

“No.” Jane shook her head. “That’s not happening.”

“His…his neck broke, Jane. When he came flying from the building—”

“When I threw him from the building.” Her body started shuddering. Jerking.

Dr. Bob swallowed. “He didn’t make it. If we’d been able to give him Aidan’s blood sooner, it might have made a difference, but…by the time I reached him in the ambulance, he was dead. The EMT was working frantically on him, I tried to help her, but…there was nothing to be done.”

Jane shoved at the bag that still imprisoned her legs. She jumped from the slab—slab, table, whatever the hell it was—and staggered toward Paris. Her claws ripped into his bag, pushing it out of her way. His face was so still. Burned, blistered. His eyes were closed, his heavy lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

Paris had always been so handsome. The ladies’ man. Charming.

And…

Now he’s dead. Because of me. “I tricked him into going back inside.” Her words tumbled out. “Acted like he was the one going to rescue Aidan when I knew I’d be going into the flames, too.”

“Jane…” Dr. Bob began.

“I did this.”