She licked her lips, swallowed twice, and finally managed to say, “Aidan?”
He nuzzled her neck.
She stared at their hands. Her claws were gone, his weren’t.
“I love you, Jane.” His voice was still rough, slightly ragged at the edges. But it was definitely the voice of a man, not a beast. “Whatever happens, whatever comes…remember that.”
She lifted their entwined fingers to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love you.” She didn’t like those “whatever happens” sort of talks. They usually meant bad things were coming.
Something so bad that it would tear them apart. Her eyes squeezed shut, as if she could hide from the truth, for just a moment. “Nothing bad is going to happen.” The words slipped from her, almost like a child, trying to fight the dark.
A low laugh rumbled from him. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t you see? I am the bad thing.”
Ice brushed across her heart.
***
Annette sat on the old, dusty floor. Paris was just a few feet away from her, sleeping now, but still chained. Bags of blood—Aidan’s blood—were in the ice chest at her side.
“Uh, Ms. Benoit?” Garrison shifted nervously from foot to foot. “What else can I do to help?”
She glanced at him. “You didn’t attack Paris when you arrived. I figure that’s more than enough help.” And he’d brought the blood back. A definite good deed that she would see he was rewarded for completing. The redheaded wolf had just found his way to her good side, though most folks swore she didn’t actually have a good side.
She did. It was just well hidden most days.
“I don’t…I don’t want to attack him.”
His words made her head jerk toward him. Garrison rubbed his throat. “His scent…it’s been changing since I got here. He doesn’t smell like other vamps anymore.”
That was good, wasn’t it? A sign that Aidan’s alpha blood might be helping Paris? “What does he smell like?” Because she had no clue. All she could smell right then was the scents of blood and mildew.
Garrison inched a bit closer. Did he know that she had a gun loaded with silver bullets in her bag? If he was lying to her and the guy was about to go for Paris’s throat, she would be stopping him.
No one was going to take Paris away.
The force of her attachment to Paris was…frightening.
“He smells…like Paris.”
Her brows rose.
“The scent of the wolf is there,” Garrison mumbled, frowning. “Woodsy, wild. There’s another scent clinging to him, now, too, though.” He inhaled deeply. “Apples.” He shook his head. “Jane always smells like apples. And lavender.”
Annette stiffened. Jane always smells like apples. She shoved her hand into her bag and brought up her knife.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Garrison stammered. “And what the hell all do you have in that bag?”
Everything I need. Paris was out cold, so she grabbed his wrist and sliced him.
“Stop!” Garrison shot toward her. He caught her hand and pulled her away from Paris. “Don’t you hurt him!”
She wasn’t going to hurt him, not anymore. “I got what I needed.”
“For him to bleed?” Garrison’s cheeks were nearly as red as his hair.
“Yes,” Annette said simply. Then she handed him the knife. “Take this to the ME, Dr. Bob Heider. Make him run his tests on the blood. Tell him I know he ran a test when Paris first woke, but he needs to examine this sample.” Because if Paris’s scent was changing, then maybe other things were, too. She thought quickly, then said, “Get him to compare this blood to Jane’s.” Because she knew he kept samples of Jane’s blood on hand.
Jane’s blood.
Aidan’s blood.
Carefully, Garrison took the knife from her. “Shouldn’t I like…bag this or something?”
Annette rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a crime show, wolf. I don’t have freaking plastic bags on me.” They weren’t included in the everything she had contained in her oversized purse. The purse was for her weapons and her magic. She generally left science to others. “Just be careful with the knife. Move as fast as you can and get that blood to Dr. Heider.”
Garrison nodded and made his way to the door, moving with slow, mincing steps.
Her breath huffed out. “You can go a bit faster than that!” Her gaze stayed locked on him until he left the back room and then…
Awareness slowly edged up her spine. Her gaze slid back to Paris. A very awake Paris.
Oh, damn. Annette glanced at the floor. The line of dirt still circled him. Good. She would just make absolutely sure not to pass that line again. When I sliced his hand, I passed it. Foolish mistake. But she’d had to know…
His nostrils flared and his gaze slowly slipped over her face. When his lips parted, she caught sight of his fangs.