Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(32)

We need him, for the moment. Jane had been right. So Aidan turned on his heel and walked away. He forced himself not to look back. If he did, he’d just see Paris’s prone body. He’d hear his friend, begging him…

Kill me.

It was the job an alpha was supposed to perform—stopping bloodlust crazed vamps from hurting others. But…to kill Paris?

That’s a job I never hoped to have.

***

Jane watched as Aidan walked away. His steps were rough, angry, and his hands were still clenched into tight fists.

“And that’s the guy you think you want to spend eternity with?” Vincent mumbled under his breath. “Right, good luck with all of that.”

Jane’s gaze flew over to lock with his. “We need to secure Paris.”

“I think the massive brain trauma that your boyfriend just gave him is security enough for the moment but…” Vincent turned away, headed for a closet, and came back with a new manacle and chain. In moments, he’d replaced the one that Paris had so effortlessly ripped from the wall. “That will hold him.”

Maybe.

Annette was sitting on the floor near Paris, her legs tucked neatly under her. Her hand was lightly stroking his cheek, such a tender touch.

A lump rose in Jane’s throat. She could see it now—the connection between Paris and Annette. “How long have you loved him?”

Annette’s hand stilled. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, her voice emotionless. “I hardly know the man at all.” Then she reached into her bag and pulled out—was that dirt? Sure looked like it. And Annette was sprinkling the dirt around Paris’s body.

“What are you doing, witch?” Vincent demanded.

Annette’s head turned, a bit snakelike, and her eyes locked on him. “I’m no witch.”

He blinked. “I-I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Annette rose to her feet. “I’m a voodoo queen, just like my mother, like my grandmother, like my great-grandmother. Power flows through my blood and through me. I get that you use a witch to work spells for you, and that’s just grand for you. But I am Annette Benoit, and no one uses me.”

He held up his hands. “My apologies,” he said very formally. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You’d better not.” Her gaze cut to Jane. “What I’m doing…I’m protecting all of us. And Paris. The dirt from the dead will keep Paris enclosed within the circle I create. He won’t be able to get out and attack us. So we should have a chance to figure out what’s going on—how we can help him.”

“Dirt from the dead?” Jane repeated carefully.

“Dirt taken from a cemetery under the light of a full moon.” Annette rolled one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “You’d be surprised what things hold incredible power in this world.”

Jane thought she was looking at someone who held incredible power right then.

“I’ll stay with him,” Annette said, giving a quick nod. “Go talk to Aidan. Go…try to stop some of the chaos that’s taking over this town.”

Vincent had turned on his heel and stalked away. But Jane didn’t move to follow him. Because, to her, Paris turning into a vamp seemed like the biggest chaos right then. She should stay and—

Annette’s lips curled down in a sad smile. “Your world is going to rip apart, Jane. I hope you’re still standing when it’s all over.”

Great. More murky warnings from Annette. Must be Tuesday…or Wednesday…or Thursday. Or any day. “It would help me so much,” Jane told her quietly, “if you just said what I needed to avoid. You know, before I became a vampire, it would have been awesome if you just said, ‘Jane, don’t go to Tulane! Your ass will get messed up there!’”

Annette blinked at her. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“If you know something bad will happen, you should tell me! What good is having an all-seeing friend if she won’t tell me exactly what she sees?” Jane threw her hands into the air and turned away.

She’d only taken a few steps when Annette’s soft voice stopped her. “Are we really friends now?”

Jane glanced back at her. “Yes, I think we are.”

Annette licked her lips. “I can’t see things…as well as I used to. The future, I mean. My mirror shattered and…” Once more, she shoved her hand into her bag. This time, she pulled out a few chunks of black, broken glass. “This is all I have left. So when I look, I see bits and pieces.”

“You can still share those bits with me.”

Annette nodded, but she still hesitated. “You owe me, Jane. Do you remember that? Once, you promised that you would pay me back a favor. You’d give me something I wanted, no questions asked.”

She didn’t exactly remember the no questions asked part but…

“Help me save Paris,” Annette pleaded.

Tears stung Jane’s eyes again. “I did this to him. I was just trying to get him out of the fire—I never meant—”

Annette’s dark gaze held hers as Jane’s words tumbled to a halt. “Help me.”

“I will,” Jane promised. “But not as some favor I owe. But because Paris is my family, too. I want him back. I want to fix this.”