Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(4)

And after that…

He wanted to beat her sweet ass.

She’d told him that she was just going for a walk. A f*cking 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, *.

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.