Too damn late.
“Go to Paris,” Garrison told her. “I’ll hold him back.”
“You, pup?” Vincent laughed as he began to stalk toward them. “You can hold nothing back. You’re worthless, useless. You should have died years ago when the vamps took the rest of your family.” His disgust was obvious. “All of the fucking werewolves should be gone. They are nothing but animals, savages, and it’s time for their end.”
She held tight to Garrison’s arm. If she left him, he’d die.
“I was always meant to be the end of the werewolves, I knew it,” Vincent continued. “It just took me a while to realize how that end would come.”
Annette glanced down the long hallway that would lead her back to Paris. Her bag was back there with him. Her weapons.
Shit.
“I was patient. I waited centuries. Then Lena saw Jane…I actually wished for Jane, and she was born. A perfect weapon. A perfect poison.”
Jane’s blood. That’s what he’s talking about. Her blood is the poison. Because her blood had transformed not one, but two werewolves. Turned them into something…else.
“I just had to make sure she was prepared properly. Had to take her away from her family…easy enough to do, I just sent one of my most trusted vamps to kill them. And to mark her. I wanted the world to know what she was.”
The end.
The symbol that had been soldered into Jane’s skin made sick sense.
“I’d hoped that she and Aidan would come together. When she became a police detective, I even arranged the first murder victim for her to find. I made sure the body was dumped at Aidan’s place so that Jane would meet him. I know what happens when an alpha werewolf gets close to a female vamp-in-waiting.” Smug satisfaction rolled off the bastard. “So I let nature take its course. I waited and—”
“You didn’t count on Jane actually falling in love with Aidan.” The words slipped from her but she knew they were true. “You thought she’d kill him.”
He laughed once more. “Well, of course, she’s going to kill him. She’s killing him tonight. I told you, Jane is my poison. She’s poisoned Aidan with her blood. There is no going back. He dies tonight.” A beat of silence. “And so do you.” He lunged for them and Garrison leaped to meet him, surging forward in a fierce attack.
Chapter Sixteen
Sanity was gone. There was only desire. Desire for blood. Desire for her body. Desire to take and take and take.
He’d ripped her clothes away. But she’d…helped him. She’d shoved out of her jeans. Kicked away her shoes and reached for him with her soft hands that slid like silk over his skin.
His fangs were hard and aching, as aching as the dick that wanted to sink into her.
She was in his hands, his to claim but…
Jane.
Again, the name whispered through the chaos of his mind.
Apples and lavender. Laughter and soft smiles.
His hands curled around her hips. He knew the grip was too rough, that he had to be bruising her, but he couldn’t stop. Her back was against the wall, her legs were locked around his hips, and he was about to drive into her.
He’d take her body and her blood.
He’d take—
“Jane?” Her name tore from him and he held back. Sweat beaded his brow. His muscles trembled, but Aidan didn’t move. Not so much as an inch. He held himself still and clawed to find the man he’d been.
The man worthy of her.
Why was she doing this? Why was she letting him touch her? Why was she kissing his jaw so softly, as if…
As if he were still the man she loved.
He wasn’t. She knew he was a monster. He was so far gone— “That’s right,” her soft whisper came to him. “I’m your Jane. And you’re my Aidan and nothing or no one will ever come between us.” Her head eased back and she gazed into his eyes. “Stronger together, remember? Strong enough to fight whatever is happening inside of you. Strong enough to find our way through the dark, as long as we’re together.”
“Get…away…from…me…” A hoarse plea, one that came from the depths of his soul.
“I can’t. You’re holding me too tightly.”
And he was. Holding because he could not let go.
But Jane smiled at him. “And I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want to make love with you.”
He wasn’t making love. He was taking. Hurting, destroying— “Kiss me again, Aidan. Kiss me like you mean it.”
But he didn’t kiss her. He eased her back to her feet and he stepped away. The agony inside of him got even worse, wrenching at his heart as if the damn thing would be yanked right from his chest.
“Aidan?”
He fell to his knees and his claws scraped over the floor. Jane’s hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Aidan? What’s happening?”
His head turned slowly and he stared at her fingers. So delicate. Just as she was. Didn’t she see how close she was to destruction? His gaze lifted and slid over her body. Her curving hips. Her beautiful skin.
The scar, the raised white flesh in the shape of…