Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)(55)

“A raven.” Sharon’s voice had gone breathless. “He had a raven flying on the inside of his wrist and a snake was reaching up to bite it.”

Jane took a step back.

Roth? They’d had the bastard. They’d had him, and they’d just let him go.

Sharon’s chair scraped across the floor as she shot to her feet. “That guy—he killed my patient, didn’t he?”

Killed him…transformed him into a vampire. Same thing, mostly.

“Who is he?” Sharon demanded. Her frantic gaze flew to Vivian. “The cops have to find him! You have to arrest him! You have to—”

Vivian put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him.” Her gaze slid back to Aidan. “Won’t we?”

He was already rising to his feet. “Hell the f*ck yes, we will.” He stalked around the table toward Sharon. He paused, staring into her eyes. “You never saw me today. You never came to Hell’s Gate. The patient’s death wasn’t your fault and you know that. So go back to your life. Go back.”

And forget the monsters in the dark. Jane bit her lip so that she wouldn’t say those words.

A few moments later, Sharon walked out of Hell’s Gate. Aidan watched her go, his clawed hands hidden behind his back.

Jane was on the phone, calling in favors at the PD and getting Roth’s address. Roth Sly. The sonofabitch. Was he already in the wind? Running hard and fast?

The dispatcher came back and rattled off his current address to Jane. She thanked him, then hung up the phone. She looked over and saw that Aidan and Vivian were standing nearly toe-to-toe. Uh, oh, that couldn’t be good. “Guys?” Jane cleared her throat. “I’ve got the address. We need go get the hell over there.” Before the guy clears town. If he hadn’t already.

Jane had learned one important lesson that day. Aidan’s power had limits. Apparently, he had to be sure and ask the right questions. Because otherwise, some jackass like Roth could slip away.

Despite Jane’s words, neither Aidan nor Vivian moved. Vivian just kept her stare locked on Aidan as she asked, “Where’s Paris?”

“Safe.” A clipped, rough answer.

“You’re not going to tell me? Me?”

Jane paced closer. She grabbed Aidan’s arm. “Come on.”

But he kept gazing at Vivian. “I can’t tell you, not yet.”

Vivian’s lips pressed together, then, after a tense moment, she said, “What did that bastard do to Paris in the ambulance? Something worse than death…”

Aidan nodded. “Yes, worse.” Pain flashed on his face. “But I’m trying to bring Paris back. I just need more time. And I can’t risk more pack members finding out just yet.”

Vivian stumbled back, as if she’d just been stabbed. “You don’t trust me?”

“You need deniability, Viv. Because if I go down, you’re the only one who can keep this pack together. They have to trust you.”

She held up her hands, palms out. “I’m no alpha.”

“No, but you’re the f*cking closest thing, and they need you.” He inclined his head toward her. “I will handle this.” Then he looked at Jane. “I should have killed that bastard earlier.”

Killing Roth wasn’t the answer—they needed to question the guy. Find out what he’d given to Paris. Why. This time, they’d ask the right questions. She knew Aidan had gotten sidetracked earlier…because of me. His feelings for her had gotten in the way, and, dammit, she should have been the one to push for a deeper truth from Roth.

Instead, she’d been focused on making sure Aidan’s control didn’t explode.

Jane and Aidan hurried for the door but…Vivian snagged Jane’s wrist, stopping her before she could leave Hell’s Gate. Aidan strode outside, and she heard him talking to the bouncer/guard who was on duty out there. Jane had caught a glimpse of the guy when she and Aidan first arrived. Troy. Tall, muscled, a strong, fierce wolf with multi-colored eyes. She knew his job was to make sure humans received the message that Hell’s Gate was closed—closed to all but a select few for the time being.

“What’s wrong with Aidan?” Vivian asked, her voice hushed.

Jane’s shoulders tensed.

“You think I can’t see that something is going on? Jane…what is happening?”

She stared into Vivian’s eyes. She wanted to tell her but…

“Jane.”

Her head snapped toward the door. Aidan was back. He lifted his hand, offering her his palm. “We need to hunt.”

Jane pulled away from Vivian.

“Watch out for him,” Vivian whispered.

Jane’s hand curled around Aidan’s. Was the captain asking her to watch Aidan’s back? Or was she telling Jane…

Watch out for Aidan’s attack?

They walked outside and Sharon had been right, the rest of Bourbon Street was busy while Hell’s Gate was absolutely dead.

When Aidan gave an order, it was followed. The nearby guard gave her a brief nod. She inclined her head toward him.

A wild, woodsy scent teased her nose—a scent not coming from the werewolf guard Troy—and she heard the rush of footsteps coming toward her.

“Aidan!”