“He’s after Jane.”
Aidan forced his back teeth to unclench. “He may have already killed a human. I’ll be stopping him before he hurts anyone else.” It was a promise. Aidan’s hand fell away from his friend’s arm. “And put extra protection on Jane’s detail.”
Paris whistled. “You know she doesn’t like it when you throw guards at her.”
Too bad. He’d rather she be pissed than dead.
Or undead.
“We’re going to need Annette. Get word to her that I want a meeting.”
Paris took a step back. “You’re calling in the voodoo queen?” His expression hardened. “Aidan, how do you even know she’s on our side?”
He didn’t. “She still owes me.” And with a vamp vanishing before his eyes, he needed to understand exactly what was happening.
“You don’t think…” Now Paris was hesitant. “That she’s helping him, do you?”
“I don’t know.” Annette Benoit, voodoo queen extraordinaire, had been forced to help a vampire before. Was that happening again? “That’s why I need the meeting.”
Paris nodded. “Then I’ll make it happen.” Though he sure didn’t sound happy about the situation. When it came to voodoo magic, Paris liked to keep his distance. Not that Aidan blamed him. They all knew how strong Annette was.
Aidan turned toward his office, and that was when he heard…
Jane, crying.
***
The nightmare would never leave her alone. No matter how much time passed, no matter how strong she thought she was…it would return.
Maybe because it wasn’t a nightmare.
It was a memory. And it was so real…so strong…
She could actually feel the rope as it cut into her wrists and ankles. She could feel her own blood as her skin ground against the rough hemp.
Jane wasn’t an adult in that memory/nightmare. She was just a child, barely eleven years old. So scared. In so much pain. The pain wouldn’t stop. The vampire just laughed when she cried.
She was tied down, secured on the top of an old table. In the basement of her house. When she turned her head, Jane could see her mom. Her mother was tossed on the floor, her limbs all twisted and a big pool of red underneath her body. Her dad…he was there, too. Another quick turn of her head showed Jane her dad’s form.
His eyes were still open, but she didn’t think he saw her, not anymore.
“There, there…no need for tears, little one. It’s all for you.” That voice was back. The voice she hated. Mean and cold and cruel and she wouldn’t look at him. She just wouldn’t.
“We waited a long time for you. You’d better not disappoint.”
She looked back at her dad. This was her house. Her mom’s house. Her dad’s house. They were supposed to be safe there. Why aren’t we safe?
“You can scream if you want,” that cold voice told her.
It was all the warning she got. Pain came then. So hot. Burning, branding. She screamed and screamed but it didn’t stop. And she could smell something—something funny. Something—
It’s me. I’m burning.
Her voice broke and her cries stopped.
“Good girl.”
She didn’t want to be good. Not if he liked that.
“I’ll be back soon.” He stroked back her hair, and his green eyes gleamed down at her. “We’ll take a little break. Let you get a bit of strength back so that we can finish things up.” His blond hair was swept away from his face. A face that seemed so normal.
It isn’t. He’s not normal. He’s evil. Monster. Monster. Monster!
Vampire.
There were no tears on her cheeks. She’d stopped crying after…Daddy.
The green-eyed man—monster—shut the door on the way out. Her home. He had taken over as if he owned the place. They had. In the middle of the night, monsters had come for her. Her mom had told her that monsters weren’t real. That she should never be afraid of them.
Her mom had been wrong.
She heard faint squeaks. The softest of rustles. Her eyes had closed. When had they closed? She should look around and see what was happening.
But she was afraid and she didn’t think she wanted to see anything else.
Her right side kept hurting. Throbbing. She could still smell that terrible scent in the air. I think that’s me.
“Mary Jane…” A soft voice called. “Mary Jane…are you okay?”
Don’t be here. Don’t. Run away.
“Y-you didn’t tell them I was here.”
Now she did cry. One long tear slid down her cheek.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna get you out.”
She shook her head and kept her eyes closed. But she felt him pulling on the ropes that held her ankles down. There was a faint sawing motion. It sounded so loud to her ears. She was afraid he would hear. “Stop.” The barest of whispers.
But the rope gave way. Her legs were free and her feet hurt because it felt like needles were shoved into them. She bit her lower lip as hard as she could, trying to hold back her cries. Now wasn’t the time to scream. She knew that.
Her eyes opened.
Her dad’s sightless eyes stared back at her.