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Better Off Undead Page 20
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Jane shook her head. No. No. Stay away.
The woman’s eyes were dazed, unfocused. Was she drugged?
Vincent pushed his victim—no, my victim—forward. “Does her blood smell good, Jane?”
Damn him. Yes.
“Are you hurting, Jane?”
I’m being ripped apart. But I deserve the pain. I—
“Take a few sips of her blood and the pain will stop.”
Jane shook her head. “S-stay away…” It was all she could manage. Barely a whisper.
Vincent’s face tightened. “The longer you delay, the more powerful the bloodlust becomes. Soon you won’t be able to control yourself at all. You’ll attack everyone in your path. You’ll be beyond thought. Beyond control. That’s why so many new vampires go on their bloody rampages. That’s why Aidan’s mother couldn’t be stopped.”
Aidan’s…mother?
“She tried not to feed. She held out too long. She’d starved herself, refusing to eat at all, going weeks…until she was only a shell. She lost herself completely. She turned on the ones closest to her. She destroyed them. Took all of her family in that bloodlust, and only Aidan escaped.”
Tears were pouring down her cheeks now. Aidan hadn’t told her. He hadn’t said…
Paris tried to warn me. He’d told her to ask Aidan about his family, but she hadn’t. All that time, Aidan had been with her, and he’d known…he’d realized just what would happen to her in the end.
Because I am like his mother.
But…but he’d loved Jane anyway. Despite the hell he knew would come.
“Drink from her, Jane,” Vincent urged. His voice was a dark temptation. “You don’t have to be a monster. If you get the bloodlust under control, you’ll be okay. I will help you. Guide you.”
Her tongue swiped over the tip of one fang and…
Bam.
Bam.
Bam.
What was that sound? That terrible banging? Jane’s gaze darted to the woman’s neck and she saw the pulse racing at the base of her throat.
Bam.
Bam.
Bam.
Oh, sweet Jesus, she could hear the woman’s heart beating. And that beat called to Jane.
“I won’t let you kill her, Jane. I promise, I won’t. I’ll stop you after just a few sips.”
Jane’s hands jerked in the restraints. Her wrists were already raw and bloody. She was wearing just a coat—Aidan’s coat. His scent was all around her.
I need him.
Just thinking of him made her bloodlust grow even stronger. Her mouth opened.
“I won’t let you kill her,” Vincent promised. “But I will make you drink from her.” And he lunged forward. One hand grabbed Jane’s head and he shoved it against the woman’s bloody throat. And his other hand held the woman there, trapped against Jane.
No, no, she didn’t want to do this!
But the woman’s blood touched her lips.
There was no going back. Jane opened her mouth wide. Her fangs sank into the woman’s throat even as Jane mentally shouted…No! Run away! Run away! I’m so sorry! I can’t stop! I can’t!
The blood flowed over Jane’s tongue. Unlike the bagged blood, this was warm. Hot. Seeming to burst with life and flavor and—
Jane shoved the woman back. “Wrong,” she rasped.
“No!” Vincent shouted. “It’s not wrong!” He tossed the woman aside and grabbed Jane by her shoulders. “It’s your nature! It’s—”
She vomited the fresh blood on him.
He stiffened.
Her stomach cramped. The hunger nearly tore her apart but…
I can’t keep the blood down! Didn’t he see? Something was very, very wrong.
Once more, Vincent wiped the blood vomit from his eyes. His expression had turned pensive. The woman sobbed behind him.
“You’re right,” Vincent finally said. “Something is wrong.”
***
“Before she…” Aidan stopped and cleared his throat. Annette was swirling his blood over the surface of her mirror. And he was still breaking apart on the inside.
I have to keep it together a little longer. My pack needs me.
“Before she was killed, Jane…Jane had just discovered a lead on the other alpha.” He rubbed his neck, then stopped when he felt the tender skin that had been left from Jane’s bite. “She suspected a college student, some punk named Quint Laurel.”
When he said the name, Annette nodded, as if something had just been confirmed for her. Then she told Aidan, “He has one of your pack.”
“What?” The sharp question came from Paris. “Who? Who does the bastard have?”
Annette’s fingers stilled on the mirror. “The woman of power. The captain. He has her, and he’s going to kill her soon.”
Fucking hell. Aidan had been so caught up in Jane—
That I let down my pack.
“He doesn’t even understand what he is. A lost boy…turned into a savage beast. Without guidance, that’s what happens. An orphan, he came to this town, not knowing, not understanding…and then changing.”
Garrison whistled. “Alphas change at twenty-one. If the guy didn’t understand what he was…and all of a sudden he shifted…it’s a wonder that he didn’t lose his mind.”
“Maybe he did lose it,” Paris said as he paced nearby. “That would explain his kills.”
Annette’s head lifted and her eyes seemed to stare right through Aidan. “He had no guidance. It can make all the difference.”
Did she think he was going to guide the punk? “Screw guidance. It’s too little, too late for that. The guy is a killer, and I’m stopping him.” His wolf was eager for the battle. All the rage and fear that Aidan had inside…it was going to burst free. He’d shift and give his beast full reign.
A blood battle. To the death. It was the only way for alphas to fight.
“Do you see him?” Aidan asked Annette.
She nodded. “I see him now because he wants to be seen. He wants the whole world to know what he is. That desire is practically pouring from his cells. It’s why he’s killed. Why he hunts. The world should know his power.”
“Where.” Not a question, a demand.
“With the dead, of course.”
So the killer had gone back to his playground in the cemetery. Aidan whirled away.
“Aidan…will you kill her?” Annette called after him, her question hesitant.
“I’m not going after Jane right now,” he said, not looking back at her. One crisis at a time.
“No…” Annette’s voice was sad.
Paris hurried to follow behind him. Garrison closed in, too.
I’m not going after Jane. I’m going to kill a werewolf bastard who made the mistake of killing in my town.
As for my Jane…I need her to stay away from my wolf.
Far away.
***
The door closed behind the werewolves as they rushed out of her shop. Annette’s shoulders fell. “No,” she said softly, pained to her core, “you aren’t going after her…but Jane will find you.”
She could see it in the blood.
So much blood.
***
“Aidan, stop!” Paris yelled.
Aidan swung around, snarling. “I don’t have time to waste—”
“No, but I have something…something that might help us. It caught my eye when I saw Garrison nosing around Annette’s shelves.” His hand opened, revealing a vial. “I figured if this was strong enough to knock you out…then maybe—”
“I’m not interested in knocking out the other alpha. I’m interested in kicking his ass.” He spun around. His prey waited.
“Wasn’t talking about him,” Paris mused. “I was thinking of someone else that you may not want to kill.”
Now Aidan did pause.
“I’ve got a few extra syringes. I picked them up, when, you know, I was planning to knock your ass out.”
Aidan growled.
�
�Better to be safe, right?” Paris pushed. “You want the vial or not?”
Aidan considered it. He knew what Paris meant…his friend was giving him the option of knocking out Jane if their paths crossed. Knocking her out and not killing her. His jaw locked as he said, “You keep it.”
“Aidan—”
“You, Paris.” He looked back. “And when the time is right, you’ll know what to do.” Maybe you’ll use it on Jane. Maybe you’ll use it on me.
Or maybe…maybe you’ll just watch us destroy each other.
Chapter Seventeen
Annette stared down into her mirror once again. Aidan would find the other alpha, of that, she had no doubt. And Aidan was strong enough to win the battle, but…
But that isn’t how I see it ending.
Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into the mirror. No, no, no!
The images tore through her mind and she jumped to her feet. She had to get to Aidan. Had to stop him. Annette grabbed her car keys and raced outside.
And she slammed straight into the vampire who’d been waiting for her. Not that he looked like a vampire. He was tall, handsome, dressed expensively. His hair was perfectly styled, his body strong and—
And when I look at him, I know exactly what he is…because I saw him in my visions. I saw him die on a Viking ship.
“Annette Benoit,” he murmured, his voice smooth and rich and deep. He gave her a little bow. “I have to say, I’m honored to meet you.”
Annette jerked out the wooden stake that she kept in her bag, for emergencies just like this one. “I’m not so honored.” She shoved the stake against his chest.
He…didn’t stop her.
The stake cut through his skin. Blood soaked his shirt.
But she didn’t drive the stake down into his heart. He wasn’t fighting her, and that was just…wrong.
“Wrong,” Annette whispered, the word settling deep within her. Something was wrong.
“I like my heart, old and battered though it may be,” the vampire said. “So how about we just leave it where it is?” Carefully, his fingers closed around her wrist and he eased the stake out of his chest. “Thank you.”
Her temples were pounding. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. And since my witch isn’t close enough to help me figure things out…I thought you might be able to take her place.”
Annette’s eyes narrowed on him.
“Jane can’t take blood. When she tries, she just vomits it up.” His voice roughened, belying his controlled appearance. “And every moment that passes without her getting blood, well, it’s a moment that drives her closer to the edge. Soon, there won’t be any sane thought for her. She’d slip over that thin line that separates good and evil, and Jane will be lost, just like so many other vamps have lost themselves to the bloodlust.”
Annette shivered.
“Jane has to take blood. It is a simple matter of survival for her. But she has to be controlled when she does it. Taking a life when you first drink…that’s the tipping point for vampires. The darkness grows within them after that act, and there is no stopping it from consuming their souls.”
Her breath heaved out. “But Jane can’t take blood.”
“No…no, she’s starving and we have to find a way to help her.” The faint lines near his mouth tightened. “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. But Jane…something is different.”
Wrong. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Where is Jane now?”
“She’s safe. Don’t worry. I left her chained up.”
She flinched.
“She’s in an old building near the St. Louis Cemetery. She won’t hurt anyone, not as long as she stays chained up.”
St. Louis Cemetery.
Aidan was going to that cemetery. Oh, hell.
“She won’t stay chained up long,” Annette announced. “She’ll break loose.” She grabbed the vampire. “You’ve been using your witch’s magic to vanish?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then use it now. Get us to Jane, as fast as you can.” Before it was too late.
***
Quint Laurel smiled at his prey. The police captain was spread out, her blood still seeping from her wounds, as she lay before the old crypt. The blond reporter—Sarah Steele was sobbing, too terrified of him to move.
Soon, the whole world would be terrified.
“You’re going to film me,” he told the reporter. Then there would be no denying what he was. The humans would all understand. He motioned to the phone in her hands. The woman was so far gone, a freaking wreck, that she hadn’t even thought to call for help. Not that he would have let her but…still, her fear was incredibly gratifying. It was like she was his puppet on a string. Pull that string, pull it. “You’ll record every moment. Then you’ll show it on the news. You’ll show the world.”
“Please,” the news anchor whispered as heavy tracks of mascara bled down her cheeks. “Let us go. Just let us go.”
“No.” Then he turned back to the cop. The bitch who’d dared to call him a coward. He let his claws out as he closed in on her. She gave a low moan when he approached, and Quint smiled. A moan meant she was conscious. A moan meant she was about to feel all the pain he would give to her. “I think I’ll start with your face,” he decided. “Women can be so vain. Let’s take that pretty face away first.” He lifted his claws.
But…but she moved. She was bleeding heavily, but she lunged up at him and she sliced into his stomach. His blood pumped out. “What the—”
“Did you think…” she panted, “you were…the only one?” Her hand lifted and he saw claws sprouting from her fingertips. “Think…fucking…again…”
Quint stumbled back. “No.” He put his hand to his stomach. “No.” Thatch had tried to tell him some bullshit about there being other werewolves in town, when Quint had made the mistake of flashing his claws at the guy one drunk night. Thatch had heard tales…tales about wolves going into Hell’s Gate, but Quint had gone there and seen nothing.
No one else is like me. I’m the power. I’m special. I am everything.
“Yes.” Vivian Harris dragged her body upright. “There are more…and you…you broke our laws. Werewolf laws. Human laws.” Her eyes seemed to glow. “You will die. The alpha is coming. He will come…for me.”
“The who? The fucking what?” Quint surged toward her but she slashed him again—right across the face. He howled in pain.
Vivian laughed, the sound pain-filled and mocking. “Now…who’s the vain bitch?”
Rage nearly blinded Quint as he jumped on her.
And—
He heard another howl split the night.
***
She was so hungry. Thirsty. Pain burned through her constantly, and Jane just wanted that savagery to end.
This wasn’t living. This was hell.
Her mind was trapped in chaos. The need to feed controlled her. Her lips were swollen, raw, and—
A howl.
Jane stiffened. She’d just heard a howl. Aidan’s howl. She knew the sound of his wolf. Her nostrils flared and she caught the scent of blood in the air. Only…it wasn’t human blood.
Werewolf blood.
Jane began to salivate. She yanked at the chains that bound her. Jerked again and again. The scent of that blood grew stronger. Her need burned hotter.
Her wrist broke—the right wrist. She kept jerking against her bonds. Harder. Harder.
The chain snapped free from the wall. Her broken right wrist slipped from the manacle and she shattered the manacle that had bound her left wrist. Then Jane looked at the chains around her ankles.
I need that blood.
Snarling, she locked her fingers around those chains. She pulled and pulled and pulled—
Free. The chains broke. Jane stood there, breath heaving, fingers broken. Blood covered her ankles and her hands.
Her nostrils twitched. The werewolves are close.
And she liked the way the
y smelled.
Jane straightened. She was still wearing his coat. Aidan’s coat. His scent was on her. She pulled the coat closer. Zipped it up her body. The jacket fell to the top of her thighs, shielding her nakedness. Her bare toes slid across the dirty floor as she crept forward.
I’m free now.
Get the blood.
Get the werewolves.
Free.
Jane started running.
***
“Get the fuck away from her,” Aidan roared.
The young alpha froze, his body crouched over Vivian’s. Then, in the next instant, he whipped around, staring at Aidan in shock.
“You’ve got my pack member there.” Rage pumped through Aidan’s body. “You dared to hurt her?”
The soon-to-be-dead bastard laughed. “Who the hell are you?”
Aidan rushed toward him. He slammed his body into the younger wolf’s—had to be freaking Quint Laurel—and Aidan put his claws to the guy’s throat. “I’m the alpha of this town, and you’re the bastard I’m here to put down.”
But Quint was strong. He laughed up at Aidan…and began to shift beneath him.
Like that’s supposed to impress me. “Get Vivian to safety!” Aidan bellowed, knowing Paris would obey. Aidan hadn’t come to that cemetery alone. “And get the human out of here!” The blond woman just stood there, watching them, a phone in her hands as she filmed the scene. Quint had probably put her under his control, using his power to manipulate her. “Erase that fucking video!”
Paris scooped Vivian into his arms.
Garrison curled his hand around the blond woman’s shoulder. “Why don’t you give me that…?” He took the phone from her.
And Aidan…he let his own beast take control. I want to kill. I want to destroy. I want to rip this bastard apart. Because Aidan was being torn apart. Ripped apart by his own emotions. The needs that just wouldn’t stop.
Jane.
His claws burst out and his wolf took over.
***
“That was…” Annette drew in a steadying breath as the world stopped spinning around her. “Not a way I ever want to travel again.” She jerked away from the vampire. “Which building?”
He pointed straight ahead. She ran inside the old BDSM club. Maybe she’d been there a time or two before, back in the place’s heyday.