But Vincent held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not here to provoke you.”
“No?” Aidan obviously doubted that statement. “Could’ve fooled the hell out of me.” He lifted his claws. “So this is how things will work. I’ve played the good guy with you long enough. The beast in me wants nothing more than to cut off your head—”
“Aren’t you the blunt one,” Vincent muttered.
“But I’ve held back, fucking barely. Mostly because you haven’t killed anyone yet. Jane doesn’t like it if I kill without reason.” He shrugged. “One of her little rules.”
Vincent’s eyelids flickered. “Of course, you can only do what Jane likes.”
Jane glanced between the two of them. Similar in size, and she had no doubt that Vincent was a powerful vampire. In a battle, who would win?
Sure, the vamp had his parlor trick of disappearing into thin air but…
My money is on Aidan.
“Get your ass out of my town,” Aidan told him darkly. “Be gone by the time the sun sets tonight. If you aren’t, I will come for you, and I won’t hold my beast back.”
The vamp lifted his chin. “Jane, I am here to help—”
Her laughter was bitter. “Tell that to the woman you attacked and left in a dirty alley.”
“I didn’t kill her—”
“No, you just took her blood. Nearly killed her.”
Vincent shook his head. “I held onto my restraint. She was never in any danger. What was I supposed to do? You’d shot me and your boyfriend there did his best to rip out my throat. You know how blood loss is for our kind.”
She made sure her weapon was aimed right at his heart. “There is no ‘our’ here, buddy.”
His gaze darted down to her weapon. “Wooden bullets?”
“You better believe it.” Total lie. But the silver bullets in her gun would still cause him plenty of blood loss. “Think you can pull that vanishing act before I shoot? Or before Aidan decides to use his claws to rip off your head?”
Vincent stumbled back a step.
“See, I don’t like it when vamps feed on humans. And I really don’t like the way you seem to be skulking around every time I blink. Aidan showed you courtesy,” the werewolf version, at least, “now it’s past time for you to get out of here.”
“You’re going to regret this,” Vincent warned her.
“I highly doubt it.” She cast a quick, nervous glance Aidan’s way. He hadn’t said much, probably because it took all of his self-control and strength not to attack the vampire. And he’s holding back for me. “The only thing I regret is that we ever met.”
“That so?” Vincent turned away from them, presenting his back as far too tempting of a target. “My mistake. I thought you wanted to know about your father. But, hey, guess I was wrong.”
Before she could speak, Aidan curled his arm around her shoulder. “He’s baiting you, Jane.” His voice was rough, ragged. Definitely using all of his self-control not to attack.
She knew Aidan’s words were true. Jane gave a rough nod in agreement. Then she made sure her voice was nice and strong as she said, “The only father I had was killed by a vampire when I was eleven years old. He was staring straight at me when he drew his last breath.”
Vincent stilled. She saw his shoulders stiffen. “I’m sorry…I-I didn’t realize…”
“The same vamp spent hours torturing me. I’ve still got the scars to prove it.”
Now he did whirl toward her. “That shouldn’t have happened.” Vincent seemed genuinely horrified. “You were the beginning of something new—”
“Bullshit. I’m the end.” She’d grown accustomed to that burn mark on her body. “Got the permanent reminder to prove it.”
Aidan’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.
“Keep moving,” Jane said to Vincent, her hand steady on her gun. “Because you are done here.”
Vincent’s eyes gleamed with his fury. “I am sorry. I will find the vampire who attacked you. I will make him pay—”
“Already done,” Aidan interrupted. “He’s dust in the wind. See, he was the last asshole vamp who didn’t listen when I said this town belonged to the wolves.”
A furrow had appeared on Vincent’s brows. “You avenged her?”
“I killed for her, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Never doubt that.”
Vincent raked his hand over his face. “Jane, your father—your real father—he was troubled, I knew that. But I can’t believe he would let something like this happen—”
“Yeah, well, word on my biological dad is that he died a long time ago, too,” Jane said. “The vamp who killed my family? Thane Durant? He told me that werewolves had killed my father.”
Surprise flashed on Vincent’s face. “That’s not what happened to Michael, not at all. You were told a lie.”
Her lips parted. What in the hell am I supposed to believe? And why did it just hurt me to hear my father’s name? Michael…