“I have training,” he said, still trying to sound like he cared. “Let me help you. There isn’t anything else I can do back there.” He jerked his thumb toward the fire. Then, without waiting for her response, he climbed into the back of the ambulance.
His gaze focused on Paris’s neck. The brace was there, so…did that mean his neck was broken? The guy is still breathing. So that means this shit should work. His hand reached into his pocket.
“I’ve got this,” the blonde said quickly. “My partner will be here soon and—”
He drove a needle into her neck. She immediately slumped over. The drug was fast, it knocked out its prey immediately, but unconsciousness only lasted for mere moments. He had to work fast, especially if her partner really was coming back.
He reached inside his borrowed uniform and took out another vial. One that was filled with a thick, red fluid. Blood.
Very special blood. He opened Paris’s mouth and emptied that blood inside. “You were supposed to die today,” he whispered. “But maybe this is even better.” Paris swallowed automatically, a reflex that made things so much easier. When he was sure that Paris had gotten the blood down, he shoved the empty vial into a pocket. Then he leaned over Paris once more. “I don’t think your neck is broken…” And Paris was starting to get color in his cheeks already. That just wouldn’t do.
After all, he did need a good test subject.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Fitting, considering the way Mary Jane Hart had been transformed. Smiling, he put his hands on either side of Paris’s neck and he yanked, twisting as hard to the right as he could.
Paris jerked, then shuddered…and lay very, very still.
“That’s so much better.” He hurried from the ambulance. He jumped down just in time to see…
Jane. Being zipped up into a body bag.
Ah, Jane…I know you won’t stay dead.
So did his boss.
***
Jane opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Darkness surrounded her, complete and total. Her body ached and her fangs throbbed in her mouth. She strained, trying to see through the dark, trying to find light, but there was nothing.
Where is Aidan? What happened to me?
Her hands lifted and she discovered that something was over her. Some kind of—of fabric? Hard, rough. She kicked out with her legs and found that they were trapped, too. It was as if she were sealed up in something. Locked up.
Bagged.
Oh, my God, no. Understanding hit her with a brutal punch. A body bag.
Revulsion built in her chest and she clawed at the bag above her head. Clawed until it ripped beneath her fingers and cool air spilled down to her. Air and light and—
“Easy, Jane.”
She stilled.
A hand—with slightly plump fingers and super soft skin—touched her wrist. “You’re okay,” that reassuring voice told her. “A whole lot of humans just saw your swan dive out of the burning building, so Vivian and I had to do the best damage control we could.” He pulled her up, easing her out of the bag.
She stared at Dr. Bob Heider, chief medical examiner. The medical examiner’s eyes were worried behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. The lines on his face were deeper and he smelled of smoke.
Wait, maybe that’s me. I’m the smoky one.
“Had to tag you and bag you,” he murmured, wincing a bit. “After all, everyone on the scene thought you were a corpse.”
“I’m not.” The words came out sounding funny because her fangs were fully extended. She was so freaking thirsty.
She was also sitting in the remains of her own body bag. Jane knew this horror scene would play through her head too many nights to come. Just what I needed. A new nightmare.
“Well, if we’re going to get technical,” Dr. Bob began, voice taking on that weird musing tone of his.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “Aidan.” He’d better not be in a body bag, too—
“He still had a pulse on scene.” Dr. Bob’s lips turned down. “Vivian saw to it that he and Garrison were taken out to the werewolf compound for treatment. She’s with them, don’t worry. She’ll make sure they are taken care of.”
“You should be with them. You’re the doctor who knows the score about them.” Long before she’d stumbled into the werewolf world, Dr. Bob Heider had been on Aidan’s payroll. Dr. Bob was the ME who always handled the paranormal cases. Or rather, he was the doc who made sure the paranormal victims never found their way into civilian hands. “You could help Aidan! You could—” But Jane stopped. She’d just realized that her hand looked funny. Dr. Bob still gripped her wrist with his soft fingers but her…her nails were wrong. Too long. Too sharp. A dark black.
They weren’t nails at all. They were claws.
Claws like a werewolf would have. She’d clawed her way out of that bag.
“I saw them at the scene,” he told her and his fingers slid away from her wrist. “Once I glimpsed that new manicure job of yours, I figured you’d need me when you woke up.” He paused. “After all, the alpha can heal from anything, right? But you…I didn’t know about you.”
Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t look away from those claws. “How do I make them go away?”