Magic could change anything, even fate.
Provided, of course, that the magic used was very, very dark.
As dark as a werewolf’s tortured soul.
***
“He must have been given vampire blood. No other explanation for it.” Vincent paced along the sidewalk. Dawn had come, but the sun barely peeked in the sky. Darkness still hung heavily in the city.
Jane glanced at Vincent—suave, polished Vincent who barely had so much as a hair out of place, despite their hellish night. Then her gaze slid to Aidan. Her Aidan. His hair was thick and wild, his eyes blazing, and the t-shirt he wore stretched over the powerful muscles of his chest and shoulders.
It was a good thing Aidan kept spare clothes in his car. Because after that shift at the lab, he’d been stark naked.
“I never gave him vamp blood,” Aidan spat. “So try another explanation.”
“Maybe you didn’t…” Now Vincent focused on Jane. “But maybe she did.”
What? Jane held up her hands. “Slow down there, asshole. I did not. I didn’t so much as even nip the guy when he asked me to, all right? I know how werewolves feel about vamps. It’s not like I’d ever want to give him this fate.”
Her fate.
“I’ve never known of a werewolf to become a vampire,” Vincent said as he began to rub the back of his neck. “And I’ve been around a long time. It’s just…not done.”
“Uh, obviously, it’s done.” Jane pointed to the building behind them. “Got an undead buddy in there who is proof of that fact.”
Vincent’s mouth clamped shut.
Aidan crossed his arms over his chest and studied the vamp. “You’re telling me that you’ve never heard of this before? I thought your ass was alive when the Vikings were here—”
“I was a Viking,” Vincent began hotly, “so don’t tell me—”
“Because I’m not buying,” Aidan continued, cutting right over his words. “That this has never happened before. Someone knows what is going on. Someone can fix this!”
“I’ll put a call in to my witch.” Before Aidan could respond, Vincent threw up his hand. “And, yes, she’s a real witch, with more power than anyone I know.” He hesitated. “Aside from Annette Benoit.”
Jane inched closer to him. “Will your witch be able to help?”
“Possibly. Maybe. I don’t know.”
So he wasn’t exactly building them up on hope.
“I’ll get Lena out here as soon as I can, okay? She was a bit angry at me the last time I saw her, but I can convince her to help us out.”
That was something.
“In the meantime, we keep Paris here,” Vincent added doggedly. “We keep trying to feed him blood—your blood, alpha. He didn’t spit it back up, so that means he can survive on it. We give him enough, and maybe we’ll reach the guy’s humanity once more. If his control can hold, then he’ll have a fighting chance.” But he shook his head grimly. “Either you were born to change, or you weren’t. Humans weren’t meant to grow fangs, and werewolves—hell, they definitely weren’t meant to live on a blood diet.”
“The rules have changed,” Aidan said.
Jane’s head turned toward him. He was staring at her, and his eyes seemed to shine with the power of his beast. A shiver slid over her.
“You changed the rules,” Aidan said, almost as an accusation.
Another shiver. “I never meant to,” Jane said. She’d never wanted to be a vampire. That choice—it hadn’t been one that she’d ever wanted. She squared her shoulders and marched closer to him. “We’re going to find a way to help Paris.”
He stared back at her. “We are,” Jane said. “Stronger when we’re together, remember? We can do this.”
Vincent gave a bark of rough laughter, drawing her stare. “Stronger together? You two are lethal together, when are you going to realize that? A werewolf with a vampire—it’s an abomination to nature. That’s why your friend is in there suffering. Because the two of you wouldn’t fucking stay apart. How many others will you destroy before you finally get a clue?” He shook his head and turned away from them.
Aidan strode away from Jane and grabbed Vincent’s shoulder. “You and I aren’t done.”
A muscle jerked in Vincent’s jaw. “Still mad because I made sure she came back as a vampire, huh? You know, instead of being all enraged, maybe you should try being grateful. After all, I’m the one who made it so that Jane is around, permanently. No death for her—provided, of course, she doesn’t get herself burned to ash because she’s saving your sorry hide.”
Aidan’s eyes took on a beastly glow.
“Aidan,” Jane said quickly. “Don’t.” She knew he wanted to rip Vincent apart but… “We need him, remember? Let the guy go and get his witch. For Paris.”
Aidan held Vincent’s gaze for a moment longer. She honestly thought there was a fifty-fifty shot that Aidan would ignore her and just cut off the vamp’s head right then and there. Jane tensed…