Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(5)

“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 f*cking 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.





Chapter Two


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 * some days. “The bodies would have told me something.” But now—