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.