Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3)

***

Annette watched Paris as he drove away. His shoulders had slumped as he left the Voodoo Shop, as if he carried a terrible burden.

He did.

Paris was right to be afraid. All of the wolves should be afraid. A change was coming, she could practically feel it in the air. She went back inside, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her. She wasn’t in the mood for tourists that day. Didn’t feel like making love potions or telling of what fates might come.

She almost wanted to hide because the danger she felt…it was that consuming.

Annette headed into the back of the shop—into the room that was her haven. Her steps quickened and—

“I was starting to think the wolf would never leave.”

She stilled.

The man who’d been waiting for her—the vampire who’d arrived to visit her just moments before Paris appeared on her doorstep—lifted one brow. “What? You knew I was waiting.” Vincent Connor smiled at her.

Yes, she’d known he was hiding out of sight, but Paris hadn’t so much as scented the vamp, a bad thing. Werewolves were supposed to have the best noses in the world. “You really do have some powerful magic.” Or rather, she suspected he had one very powerful witch working for him.

Vincent laughed. “It’s just a little trick to disguise my scent. And if I didn’t move, I knew the wolf wouldn’t hear me. It’s not like Paris is an alpha.”

No, but Paris was still plenty strong and dangerous. There was a reason he was the alpha’s assassin.

Vincent lifted both of his hands and put them in front of his body. A gesture that she knew was supposed to show he was no threat.

Too bad she always believed vamps were threats.

“Despite what the alpha believes, I am really not here to hurt anyone. I don’t know how many times I have to say it but…not all vamps are monsters. We aren’t all driven mad by bloodlust. Born vampires—vamps like me, vamps like Jane—we stay in control. We were meant to be this way. It’s only the ones who are transformed that go mad. And really, how can you blame them? They are becoming something that nature never intended. Humans weren’t meant to be vampires. They can’t handle that kind of power.”

She scooped up a few chunks of broken glass. “What about werewolves?”

His hands fell. “I heard what Paris said.”

I know you did.

“And I’ve maintained, all along, that Jane and Aidan never should have been involved. Vamps and werewolves aren’t meant to be together. I’m afraid that when Jane tries to leave him, Aidan won’t be quite…sane about it.”

Now she was the one to laugh, a shocked laugh of disbelief. “You actually think Jane will leave Aidan? She loves him.”

“Love isn’t always enough. Especially where monsters are concerned.” He paced closer to her and his index finger tapped against her fist, the fist that she’d made over the chunks of glass. “So that’s what became of your magic mirror.”

Her eyes turned to slits. The guy was mocking her?

“Too bad. I think we could have all used your foresight about now.” He exhaled. “How are we supposed to stop the threats, if we never see them coming?”

Such a very good question.

His hand slipped away from hers. “The alpha wants me to stay away from Jane.”

She dropped the glass onto the table. “Do you blame him?”

“I’m not Jane’s enemy, no matter what he thinks. Everything I’ve done, it’s been because I wanted to help her achieve her destiny.”

Now he was getting all sanctimonious on her.

“Soon enough, Jane will see reason. And when she does…” He handed her a slip of paper. “Make sure she gives me a call. I will always be there to help Jane.”

Right. Fabulous. “I think you’d better focus more on getting out of the city. Aidan isn’t a man you want as an enemy, but you sure have pissed him off.”

His lips thinned. “I don’t run from wolves.”

Maybe you should.

“Goodbye…for now, voodoo queen.” He gave her a little bow and then sauntered away.

She put his card on her table, right next to her broken chunks of glass. She stared into the glass and, for just an instant, she saw fire.

Fire…

And a vamp rising.

***

“You sure you can handle this?”

Jane glanced over at her police captain. Vivian Harris stood with her in the too bright hallway of the Hathway Psychiatric Facility. Vivian’s badge was pinned to her belt, but the captain didn’t have her weapon with her—both Jane and Vivian had been ordered to surrender their weapons at check-in.

It didn’t exactly work out well to have loaded firearms around mental patients.