But that music…
Vivian slowly followed the sound. It was her favorite band. She loved rock, the harder, the better. And Jane knew that. For her birthday, Jane had given Vivian tickets to that band’s latest concert. The band had made a pit-stop in New Orleans, and, though she hadn’t let on, Vivian had been touched by the gift. Jane actually paid attention to people. To what mattered to them.
Vivian rounded another crypt. Her steps were faster now. She still had her phone to her left ear. It kept ringing.
And the music kept playing.
A quick twist around another crypt and—
The phone was on the ground. Its screen was smashed to hell and back.
Vivian ended her call. The music instantly stopped playing, and, there on the screen, beneath all of the spider-web like cracks, she saw…
Missed Call. Vivian Harris.
The scent of blood was strong around her. Vivian sucked in a deep breath, then she made another phone call. Only this time, she called her alpha.
The phone rang once. Twice…
The call was answered and a gruff voice said, “He can’t talk now.”
She immediately bristled. “Put Aidan Locke on the phone, now. This is Police Captain Vivian Harris, and I have to speak with him about Detective Mary Jane Hart—”
“This is Paris, Viv.” The voice had softened. “And he’s with Jane now. That’s why he can’t talk.”
Her nostrils flared as she pulled in that heavy scent of blood. “How bad is it?”
“She’ll make it.” Though he didn’t sound so sure. “She has to make it.”
Chapter Ten
Jane’s eyes flew open. She stared up at the ceiling—a really tall, cathedral ceiling—and she tried to figure out just what the hell had happened to her.
Then her hand flew to her stomach. She—
“Don’t,” Aidan said, his voice a rough rumble. His fingers tangled with hers. “Don’t touch the bandage, not yet.”
Her gaze snapped toward him. He sat in a chair that had been pulled right next to the bed. Dark shadows lined his eyes and deep lines bracketed his mouth.
“You look like hell,” she told him.
But he smiled at her. A smile of such warmth and straight-up joy that Jane had to blink away tears.
“You look like heaven,” he said. “My own angel.”
She was as far from an angel as it was possible to get.
His fingers smoothed over the back of her hand. “I thought I told you to stop scaring me.”
She did vaguely remember him saying something like that. “How bad was it?”
“Bad enough that I had a doctor and a voodoo queen working on you at the same time.” He paused. “And I had to give you my blood.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that.” But chill bumps rose on her arms. It had tasted good.
No. Jane gave another hard shake of her head. That was just some—some weird dream. Some craziness brought on by the trauma. She hadn’t taken his blood and thought that it was good…had she?
“Probably a good thing. Doubt you’d want to remember your good buddy Dr. Bob stitching you up.”
Yeah, she didn’t want to remember that. She glanced around the room. “We’re at the mansion.”
“I wanted you in the safest place possible. This was it.”
She pushed up, slowly, until she was sitting in the bed. She was wearing one of his shirts—a giant white button-up that swallowed her.
“Dr. Bob will want to come in soon and see you. He’s been checking on you every hour.” Aidan rose, as if he were about to head to the door and get the doctor.
But she tightened her grip on his hand. “What happened to Travis?”
A muscle flexed in Aidan’s jaw. “He…didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Jane.”
Dammit.
“You did make it. You survived.” He swallowed. “And I’ll take that miracle.”
“How close was it? How close did I come to waking as a vampire?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Oh, crap. She must have come very, very close.
He leaned over the bed, over her. Aidan’s gaze held hers. His eyes were so very blue. “I love you, Mary Jane.” The words were deep and strong and they made her feel warm inside. “Know this…I will fight anything, anyone in order to keep you alive and with me. I don’t want to lose you.”