His fangs snapped at her.
“But you are not making a meal of me!” She kicked him in the stomach, then grabbed the exam table he’d been on. Her vamp strength was in full effect as she lifted that table up into the air. “Stay away from me, Paris!”
He wasn’t speaking. His eyes were wild. Saliva dripped from his teeth. He wasn’t the Paris she’d known. He was— Attacking.
She tightened her hold on the table, preparing to swing it at him like a bat.
And—
Bam. Bam. Bam.
The bullets blasted into Paris, one after the other. They sank into his chest and he blinked, seemingly confused as blood began to ooze from his new wounds. Then he staggered, falling to his knees.
“About time you helped out,” Jane snapped to Dr. Bob as she swung her gaze toward the shooter. Only…Dr. Bob wasn’t the one who’d fired.
Someone else had slipped into the temporary lab during the chaos. A woman with smooth chocolate skin, long, dark hair, and a light brown gaze that was locked on Paris as he bled out on the floor. Tears glimmered in that gaze even as magic seemed to pulse in the air around the woman.
Annette Benoit. Voodoo queen extraordinaire.
Jane lowered the table. Paris’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he’d slumped against the floor. “You have…really good timing,” Jane said.
“I saw the fire in my mirror.”
Goosebumps rose on Jane’s arms. Yes, okay, she was a vampire. She knew all about the paranormal, but the fact that Annette could look into a black scrying mirror and see things—past, present, future—that still unnerved her.
“When I scried tonight, I saw him die,” Annette said. She inched closer to Paris. A tear slid down her cheek. “I just came to tell him goodbye. I-I didn’t know he’d rise.”
Jane took the gun from Annette’s hand and checked the weapon. Silver bullets. Silver, not wood.
“A woman needs protection.” Annette barely glanced her way. “I always carry that gun with me…well, I do ever since my last werewolf lover tried to kill me.” The words were said as an aside. Her focus was on Paris. There was so much pain on her face.
“He’s not dead,” Dr. Bob announced.
Jane saw him finally crawl out from beneath his desk. She glared at the doctor. “We know he’s not dead. He’s undead, that’s the problem. A problem you weren’t helping with.”
“What? What was I supposed to do?” He pointed to his chest. “Human.” He pointed at her. “Super vamp. I knew you could handle a few bites from him.” Dr. Bob brushed off his white lab coat. “But he’s not finished yet, so we need to take his head and end—”
“No!” Jane yelled.
“No!” Annette whispered.
Dr. Bob blinked. “But…he’s a vampire.”
“So am I,” Jane reminded him, like he needed the reminder. “And you didn’t take my head.”
Dr. Bob rubbed his face and looked vaguely guilty. “If you’d come to drain me dry, despite our friendship, I sure would have tried.” His hand fell. “Have you forgotten, Jane? They don’t all rise like you. They come back as mindless beasts, driven to attack. To kill. To drain anyone close to them. You were different because you were—”
“A born vampire.” Annette cut into his words.
Dr. Bob nodded. “Paris isn’t a born vamp. He was a werewolf. He shouldn’t even be a vamp.”
No, he shouldn’t be. “Get his blood,” Jane ordered the doc. “Start running your tests. See what it looks like. If it’s…like a normal vamp’s or if it’s something more.”
But Dr. Bob didn’t move. He stared at her, at Annette, and sympathy flashed on his face. “Do you know what job Paris had just weeks before?”
Jane shook her head.
“He and Aidan would eliminate the vampires that rose in my lab. They’d end them. Take their heads, stake their hearts. A bloody, terrible job that they did because they knew they were giving those poor turned bastards peace. I’ve seen vampires rise, again and again. They’re mindless. They’re monsters. They just want blood and they’d drain the young, the old, anyone who came close to them.” He gave a sad shrug of his shoulders. “When Paris opened his eyes, when he came at you, Jane, he had that same wild look in his gaze. We have the chance to end this all, right now. We can give him peace.”
She looked back at Paris. His blood dripped onto the floor, pooling beneath him. “Peace can wait a bit.” Because I am not ready to give up on him. I can’t. She turned her head to look at Annette. “You got some magic you can do to hold the guy in check until we find out more?”
Annette’s hand went to the bag at her side. She reached her fingers in and pulled out a small doll. “I’m pretty good at controlling the dead.” No emotion was in her voice.
Okay, the lady was just scary when she said stuff like that. “He’s undead,” Jane clarified.
“I’ll be able to control him.” Annette began to sprinkle what looked like dirt around Paris’s body. “For a time.”