Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3) (6 page)

The firefighters were spraying water at the building, trying desperately to control the blaze. It had already spread to the next building.

“Freaking six alarm fire,” one of the uniformed firefighters snapped as he shot past them, his mask in place. “That’s what’s happening. The whole building is about to collapse, and we got reports that people are still trapped inside.”

People? Jane stared at Paris. At his burns. “Aidan?” Saying his name hurt.

Paris flinched. “Aidan tossed me out a second story window,” he confessed. She realized his right arm was twisted at an…unnatural angle and he was dragging his left leg. “The flames started—a bomb of some sort—seconds after we opened that back bedroom door in the second floor apartment.”

“Aidan’s still inside?” Jane whispered back to him.

His grim nod chilled her.

Jane turned and ran for the building.

She’d barely taken five steps when Paris tackled her right to the ground. “You
can’t
go in!”

She rolled beneath him and tossed the guy off her. Even weakened during the day, she was still powerful.
Vampire strength, got to love—

He grabbed her arms and jerked her toward him. “Know the fastest way to kill a vamp?” His voice was a deadly rumble. Behind him, Vivian was barking orders to the cops—and even to the firefighters. “It’s fire. You go into those flames, and you don’t come out.”

“
He
hasn’t come out!” Did Paris think that Jane was just going to stay out there while Aidan died?

“And if I let you burn, Aidan will take my head,” Paris said the words with utter certainty. “Stay here, Jane. I’ll go back in for him. Shit, I already would have been inside, but I blacked out when my head hit the concrete.”

She could see blood trickling down the side of his head.

“Stay here,” he said, voice low. “I’ll get him.”

Jane nodded. She didn’t want to fight Paris. She also didn’t want to waste time.

He let her go. He ran toward the building, shoving firefighters out of his way. Jane sucked in a deep breath and the smoke burned her lungs. She watched as a firefighter tried to stop Paris from rushing inside.

Not going to work.
Paris was too determined. After a brief battle, Paris heaved the fellow to the side, then ran right into the flames.

Now it’s my turn.
Jane eased out a slow breath. If Paris thought she was just going to stand outside like some good little vampire, he needed to think again. Jane grabbed the smallest firefighter she saw—one who was only a few inches taller than she was. “Give me that uniform,” Jane snarled. The uniform had to be better protection than her faded leather jacket. Firefighters wore turnout gear—she knew that stuff was supposed to be waterproof, heatproof and as damn sturdy as possible. If anything was going to save her vamp skin from the flames, that uniform would do the trick.

“My uniform?” The firefighter—a woman—stared at her in confusion. “Lady, you’re crazy. You need to step behind the safe zone and let me do my job.”

Jane’s fangs burst out. She couldn’t help it. She was scared and her adrenaline surge had her blood nearly boiling. “Give. Me. The. Uniform.”

The female firefighter backed up. “What in the hell?”

“Give her the uniform,” Vivian advised as she closed in. “You really don’t want to fight on this…”

Screw fighting. If she had to do it, Jane would knock that woman out and take the gear. The scene was chaos. No one was paying any attention and—

“The place is about to collapse!” Two other firefighters ran out of the building. “Everyone needs to get clear,
now!
”

Jane yanked the coat off the other woman and snatched her mask. She’d take what she could get and she would haul ass.

Hold on, Aidan. I’m coming.
It was her turn to save him.

Vivian yanked the gloves off the stunned female firefighter. “Take those, too, Jane, and
hurry.
”

***

Jane Hart was going into the fire.

A suicide mission, of course. Vampires burned ever so quickly. But…

He lifted the binoculars to his eyes and watched her. She was going inside. Donning a firefighter’s coat and mask, as if those items would help her. The trap he’d left burned particularly hot. He’d intended for the whole place to be destroyed.

He’d also aimed to take out any pesky wolves who’d come snooping. He wasn’t interested in wolves. They were just beasts. Dogs that were in the way.

Vampires interested him.

Jane interested him. After all, she was his assignment. She had been, for quite some time. Longer than she could possibly realize.

The end.
Oh, the stories that were spreading about her. Was she truly the one the vampires sought? He wasn’t so sure, not yet.

Especially since she was doing dumbass shit like running into a fire.

“Should have let him burn,” he muttered. “Fire hurts like a bitch when it bites you.”

What would Jane look like when she came out of the fire? No longer so beautiful. No longer so perfect.

If
she even came out…

Love. People were always spouting about how they’d risk everything for love. In Jane’s case, it seemed that she truly might just do that.

Risk her life.

For a monster.

Pity. He hadn’t realized she was insane. Maybe the vampire transformation had done that to her? Pushed her over an edge? And now Jane couldn’t control herself.

She had a death wish.

Wish granted, Jane. Wish fucking granted.

She nearly tripped over Paris. The guy was on the stairs, slumped down, choking on the smoke and flames.

Jane grabbed him and shook the werewolf, hard.
You were supposed to help with the rescue. Not become someone else I had to haul out of here!
“Paris!”

His eyes were closed.

And his head was bleeding—again. Or maybe it had never stopped bleeding.

She tightened her grip on him and hauled the guy
up
the stairs. There wasn’t any time to go back outside. She could already hear the groans and creaks above her. The last thing she wanted was to waste time getting Paris out and
then
trying to run back into the building—that could be time that Aidan didn’t have.

So she made it to the top of the stairs. There was only one door up there, one apartment from the look of things. The door to that apartment swung open. Had the firefighters bashed it in before they had to retreat? Maybe. Probably.

Smoke rises and I can barely see anything.

Jane went into that apartment and dragged Paris with her.
Where are you, Aidan? Where?

Paris had said they were near the back bedroom when everything went to hell, right? So she kept walking straight ahead. The flames were on the walls, rolling above her and—

Paris was screaming. She looked back and saw that flames were on his legs. Oh, hell. She swatted her hands at them, trying to put the flames out. Then she focused on Paris, staring at him through the thin frame of the mask she wore.

His grim expression said what she was thinking.

We’re both going to die in here.

No, they weren’t. Because she’d just spotted an open window. Well, open in the sense that the glass had been blown out of it by the fire. Flames were everywhere. She was pretty much afraid to breathe, worried the heat would singe her lungs and she’d be DRT. A phrase she’d heard firefighters toss around before.

Dead right there.

She inched closer to that window. Flames started to eat at Paris’s legs once again.
I’m sorry.
She squeezed her eyes shut and then threw him toward the window. He’d survived one fall…surely he’d survive another?
Please survive another.

Paris never made a sound as his body hurtled to the street below.

Now she just had to get Aidan and get him out of there. Once Aidan was clear of the building, he’d be able to give Paris his blood and heal any injuries that the other werewolf had just sustained. That wonderful magical werewolf alpha blood was a cure-all.

I just have to find Aidan and get him out.

She turned back toward what she
thought
had been the hallway. She shuffled forward and saw flames up ahead, thick, greedy flames on the floor of that hallway and—

The flames are Aidan.

For an instant, the world stopped. It just stopped. Because he was burning, right in front of her.

“
No!”
Jane screamed the cry and heat singed her lungs. She ran forward, and her gloved fingers reached Aidan. He was burning so much—was he even alive? How
could
he be? The flames were eating at him, covering his back and his arms and—

Aidan.

She grabbed him with one hand and threw him toward the wall—but the wall gave way and Aidan flew right
through
it. He hurtled down to the street below.

At least he’s out of the building.
His wounds would be terrible, but he’d heal. He had to heal.

She stood there, her shoulders heaving, tears on her cheeks as she stared down at Aidan on the street below. He’d slammed into a parked car, denting the roof. Vivian and a few police officers swarmed near him and a firefighter sprayed at the flames still burning Aidan’s body.

He can heal from that. Aidan can heal from anything.
She wouldn’t think of any other option. Jane stepped toward the gaping hole she’d just inadvertently created, intending to leap down to him. Screw any humans who might watching—they could just toss her actions up to a trick caused by all the smoke and flames.

The ceiling groaned above her.

She inched toward the edge of the building. It looked like such a big drop from up there.
But I’m a vamp. I can handle this fall…right?
Why was she even hesitating? Aidan and Paris had both not been given any option on the fall. She closed her eyes, wished for a safe landing and—

And something grabbed her foot. No, not
something.
Someone. Jane looked down and saw Garrison staring up at her. His face was ash streaked and blistered, but—

He’s not covered in flames. Aidan was shielding him from the fire. That’s why Aidan was still inside the apartment. That’s why he was crouched in that hallway, he was leaning over Garrison, shielding Garrison with his own body.
Shielding Garrison, as Aidan had burned.

The alpha protected his pack.

Garrison’s lips parted.
“H-help—”

The ceiling groaned again. Jane bent, grabbed his arm and she jumped out of that gaping hole in the wall. She leapt into the air, still holding Garrison tightly, and for a moment, she could hear the whistle of the wind around her. The people below her were screaming, she could see their open mouths, but she didn’t
hear
those screams. Just the wind. Her body was light, weightless. She was soaring.

She was flying.

She was—

Falling.

Shit.

Garrison slipped from her hold. She tried to grab him, tried to grab—

She hit the concrete. The wind stopped whistling. Everything just stopped.

***

When Jane slammed into the concrete, the watcher’s breath left him in a quick rush. He’d been standing in the crowd, blending perfectly because he’d followed Jane’s lead and taken a firefighter’s uniform. It had been easy enough to slip up behind one of the firefighters…and to slit his throat. The poor bastard was currently dead—and naked—in a nearby dumpster. It was so easy to hide dark deeds in chaos.

Jane had just come hurtling from that building, dragging some smoking redhead with her—literally, the dumbass had smoke rising from his clothes—and they were both on the ground.

When she hit the pavement, no one moved at first. He watched, waiting for Jane to leap up and race to her werewolf lover.

Only she didn’t move.

People began to inch toward her.

“Stay back!” A woman yelled. Then he saw the flash of a badge. “I’m police captain Vivian Harris, and I’m ordering everyone to stand the hell back so I can assess the scene and help these people!”

First of all…they weren’t
people.
And second…they sure seemed pretty far from the whole “help” stage to him.

He backed away from Jane and turned his attention to Aidan.

Aidan Locke. Werewolf alpha. He’d met the wolf before, and he sure hadn’t been impressed then. Aidan was covered in burns, but he was obviously still alive. His breath hissed out, and his eyelids were flickering.

“J-Jane…”

How unsurprising. Even hurt, his first thought was of her.

I’ll make sure she’s your last thought, too.
After all, that was part of his job. To stop their bond. To shatter the link between them.

Soon enough, they’d tear each other apart. But right then, he had another assignment. He slipped away from the crowd and moved toward the ambulance on the right. Three ambulances were at the scene but he focused on
this
one. The one that housed Paris Cole.

Aidan’s best friend.

Aidan’s pack mate.

One EMT was in the back of the ambulance with Paris. A brace was around Paris’s neck and Paris…he looked like hell. But then, that was expected considering the bomb that he’d left for the wolves up in that apartment.
John Smith.
Not his real name, of course. He couldn’t use his real name now. It would have tipped off Jane and Aidan too much.

“How is he?” he asked, trying to sound concerned. And he was a bit concerned. If Paris was already dead, this little experiment wouldn’t work. He’d have to find another guinea pig. Guinea wolf?

The blonde EMT jerked at his voice and glanced up at him. “I don’t even know how he’s still alive,” she said, voice breathless. “But I’m praying he can make it to the hospital. Did you see him? He came from the second story!”

“They all did,” he said quietly. “The building was collapsing. I don’t think they had a choice. It was jump or die.”

Her eyes widened.

“I have training,” he said, still trying to sound like he cared. “Let me help you. There isn’t anything else I can do back there.” He jerked his thumb toward the fire. Then, without waiting for her response, he climbed into the back of the ambulance.

His gaze focused on Paris’s neck. The brace was there, so…did that mean his neck was broken?
The guy is still breathing. So that means this shit should work.
His hand reached into his pocket.

“I’ve got this,” the blonde said quickly. “My partner will be here soon and—”

He drove a needle into her neck. She immediately slumped over. The drug was fast, it knocked out its prey immediately, but unconsciousness only lasted for mere moments. He had to work fast, especially if her partner really was coming back.

He reached inside his borrowed uniform and took out another vial. One that was filled with a thick, red fluid. Blood.

Very special blood. He opened Paris’s mouth and emptied that blood inside. “You were supposed to die today,” he whispered. “But maybe this is even better.” Paris swallowed automatically, a reflex that made things so much easier. When he was sure that Paris had gotten the blood down, he shoved the empty vial into a pocket. Then he leaned over Paris once more. “I don’t think your neck is broken…” And Paris was starting to get color in his cheeks already. That just wouldn’t do.

After all, he did need a good test subject.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Fitting, considering the way Mary Jane Hart had been transformed. Smiling, he put his hands on either side of Paris’s neck and he yanked, twisting as hard to the right as he could.

Paris jerked, then shuddered…and lay very, very still.

“That’s so much better.” He hurried from the ambulance. He jumped down just in time to see…

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?”