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  And dangerous. So many feared that she was dangerous.

  Carefully, his fingers slid down her body, moving gently over her stomach, over the luscious curve of her hip and then…lightly tracing the mark on her right side.

  A brand. The shape curved on her skin. It almost looked like a horseshoe on her body, one that had been carefully burned into her skin with a soldering pen. She’d been a child when a vampire had captured her, had killed her parents before her eyes, and had permanently marked her with that brand.

  Not a horseshoe. The brand curved at the top, and then it seemed to have two legs that jutted to the left and the right…Omega. The Greek Symbol for the end.

  Many of his kind feared what Jane would be. Many had wanted her dead as soon as they’d learned of her existence. He’d fought for the right to keep her at his side. His job was to protect her, always. His fingers skimmed over the brand.

  If I change, will you be the one who comes for me? Her words whispered through his mind and his eyes squeezed closed. Kill Jane? If she ever became a vampire, was that really what he was supposed to do? Could he?

  Would he have any other choice?

  Slowly, he slipped from the couch. She kept sleeping, her breathing deep and steady. He grabbed fresh clothes from the closet. He kept clothes at the bar because he never knew when he might have to transform.

  And running around naked after a shift was one surefire way to catch attention in the city. As he pulled his shirt into place, he opened his office door. Jane continued sleeping behind him. Good. She needed her rest, especially with a new vamp in town.

  He paced away from his office. Stared down below at his bar. It was a Friday night, and Hell’s Gate was packed. Hardly surprising. The werewolves and the humans blended together below him. The humans were completely unaware that they danced with paranormals. That was the way the werewolves liked for things to be. Their existence was supposed to be secret.

  But vamps were different. They had a tendency to leave blood and death in their wake. They wanted attention. Wanted the truth to come out.

  Wanted chaos.

  He glanced around the bar and caught the eye of Paris Cole, his oldest friend and his right-hand wolf. Aidan inclined his head and Paris immediately headed for the stairs. The crowd parted instantly for Paris, though the tall, African American wolf made a point of pausing to smile at the pretty ladies he saw. Typical Paris. A charmer, and often, a pain in Aidan’s ass. But…

  Someone I can count on.

  Aidan had been betrayed before and, no doubt, he would be betrayed again. When power was on the line, a guy always had to watch his back. But I can depend on Paris.

  As Paris neared him, worry flashed in the guy’s light, golden eyes. Paris’s gaze dipped from Aidan to the closed office door. “Everything okay with our cop?”

  Our cop? Aidan’s brows rose.

  Paris delicately cleared his throat. “What I meant was…how’s Jane tonight?”

  The same way she was every night. Mine. “A new vamp is in town.”

  Paris swore. “When will they learn? This city isn’t theirs anymore.”

  No, it wasn’t. It belonged to the wolves, but it was like there was some damn vamp beacon in place because the undead always circled back to New Orleans. Aidan rolled back his shoulders. “The vamp said he wasn’t here to start a war.”

  “And you didn’t buy his bullshit.”

  “Vincent Connor.” Just saying the name pissed him off. “Find out everything you can about him and spread the word to the pack that we need to be on alert.” If Vincent decided to make an undead army in the city, they needed to be ready.

  Paris nodded and turned to leave.

  Aidan caught his arm. “Something else…” He heaved out a hard breath. “The guy vanished. Right in front of my eyes, he disappeared.”

  Paris laughed.

  Aidan didn’t.

  “You’re…serious?”

  Aidan stared at him.

  “How can he do that?” Paris’s forehead wrinkled. “Can vampires do that? I mean, I know they get more power with age but…”

  “For all I know, the guy has been gorging on werewolf blood.” A quick way to increase a vamp’s power. “Or maybe he’s the oldest SOB that I’ve ever come across.” That’s why I need to learn everything about the guy that I can.

  “He’s after Jane.”

  Aidan forced his back teeth to unclench. “He may have already killed a human. I’ll be stopping him before he hurts anyone else.” It was a promise. Aidan’s hand fell away from his friend’s arm. “And put extra protection on Jane’s detail.”

  Paris whistled. “You know she doesn’t like it when you throw guards at her.”

  Too bad. He’d rather she be pissed than dead.

  Or undead.

  “We’re going to need Annette. Get word to her that I want a meeting.”

  Paris took a step back. “You’re calling in the voodoo queen?” His expression hardened. “Aidan, how do you even know she’s on our side?”

  He didn’t. “She still owes me.” And with a vamp vanishing before his eyes, he needed to understand exactly what was happening.

  “You don’t think…” Now Paris was hesitant. “That she’s helping him, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” Annette Benoit, voodoo queen extraordinaire, had been forced to help a vampire before. Was that happening again? “That’s why I need the meeting.”

  Paris nodded. “Then I’ll make it happen.” Though he sure didn’t sound happy about the situation. When it came to voodoo magic, Paris liked to keep his distance. Not that Aidan blamed him. They all knew how strong Annette was.

  Aidan turned toward his office, and that was when he heard…

  Jane, crying.

  ***

  The nightmare would never leave her alone. No matter how much time passed, no matter how strong she thought she was…it would return.

  Maybe because it wasn’t a nightmare.

  It was a memory. And it was so real…so strong…

  She could actually feel the rope as it cut into her wrists and ankles. She could feel her own blood as her skin ground against the rough hemp.

  Jane wasn’t an adult in that memory/nightmare. She was just a child, barely eleven years old. So scared. In so much pain. The pain wouldn’t stop. The vampire just laughed when she cried.

  She was tied down, secured on the top of an old table. In the basement of her house. When she turned her head, Jane could see her mom. Her mother was tossed on the floor, her limbs all twisted and a big pool of red underneath her body. Her dad…he was there, too. Another quick turn of her head showed Jane her dad’s form.

  His eyes were still open, but she didn’t think he saw her, not anymore.

  “There, there…no need for tears, little one. It’s all for you.” That voice was back. The voice she hated. Mean and cold and cruel and she wouldn’t look at him. She just wouldn’t.

  “We waited a long time for you. You’d better not disappoint.”

  She looked back at her dad. This was her house. Her mom’s house. Her dad’s house. They were supposed to be safe there. Why aren’t we safe?

  “You can scream if you want,” that cold voice told her.

  It was all the warning she got. Pain came then. So hot. Burning, branding. She screamed and screamed but it didn’t stop. And she could smell something—something funny. Something—

  It’s me. I’m burning.

  Her voice broke and her cries stopped.

  “Good girl.”

  She didn’t want to be good. Not if he liked that.

  “I’ll be back soon.” He stroked back her hair, and his green eyes gleamed down at her. “We’ll take a little break. Let you get a bit of strength back so that we can finish things up.” His blond hair was swept away from his face. A face that seemed so normal.

  It isn’t. He’s not normal. He’s evil. Monster. Monster. Monster!

  Vampire.

  There were no tears on her
cheeks. She’d stopped crying after…Daddy.

  The green-eyed man—monster—shut the door on the way out. Her home. He had taken over as if he owned the place. They had. In the middle of the night, monsters had come for her. Her mom had told her that monsters weren’t real. That she should never be afraid of them.

  Her mom had been wrong.

  She heard faint squeaks. The softest of rustles. Her eyes had closed. When had they closed? She should look around and see what was happening.

  But she was afraid and she didn’t think she wanted to see anything else.

  Her right side kept hurting. Throbbing. She could still smell that terrible scent in the air. I think that’s me.

  “Mary Jane…” A soft voice called. “Mary Jane…are you okay?”

  Don’t be here. Don’t. Run away.

  “Y-you didn’t tell them I was here.”

  Now she did cry. One long tear slid down her cheek.

  “I’m gonna…I’m gonna get you out.”

  She shook her head and kept her eyes closed. But she felt him pulling on the ropes that held her ankles down. There was a faint sawing motion. It sounded so loud to her ears. She was afraid he would hear. “Stop.” The barest of whispers.

  But the rope gave way. Her legs were free and her feet hurt because it felt like needles were shoved into them. She bit her lower lip as hard as she could, trying to hold back her cries. Now wasn’t the time to scream. She knew that.

  Her eyes opened.

  Her dad’s sightless eyes stared back at her.

  No, look away. Look away!

  Then the rope was gone from her wrists. Sawed away. He’d cut her wrists with the knife he had, but she didn’t care about that small pain. Then he was pulling her, pushing her toward the window. Such a small window. They were in the basement. And that window was up high.

  “I’ll go through first,” he said. He shimmied up and vanished.

  I don’t want to leave mom and dad. But…they were already gone. They’d left her. They weren’t suffering anymore. No one could ever make them suffer again.

  “Mary Jane!” He reached down for her. His hand was small, barely bigger than hers. Dirty. Bloody. “Come with me, Mary Jane!”

  Had he been hiding, during everything? Hiding and waiting? He’d seen everything, too, just as she had. She looked up into his eyes—eyes that were the exact shade of her own. He’d been crying. He never cried.

  Her gaze darted back to his hand just as she heard the basement door opening—the faintest of clicks from the top of the stairs. The monster was coming for her again.

  She grabbed for the dirty little hand, and he pulled her up, yanking with all of his strength. Her body slid through the narrow opening of the window. Her shoulders. Her chest. Her stomach. Her—

  The monster grabbed her feet.

  ”No!” she screamed. And then she held that dirty little hand even tighter. “Drew, help me!”

  ***

  “Jane.”

  Her eyes flew open. The basement—her old home—vanished. She was in Aidan’s office, naked, on Aidan’s fancy leather couch. Her heart drummed hard enough to shake her chest as Aidan crouched over her.

  She sat up, fast, but he didn’t move back.

  “You were having your nightmare again.”

  She swiped a hand over her face. Since they spent plenty of nights together, he knew all about her sleep issues. But then, he knew how she’d come to have that not-so-lovely scar on her right side, too. She’d told him most of the story.

  Most of it.

  Some details had been left out. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because she knew him too well.

  “Back in the basement?” Aidan asked carefully. His hand was on her shoulder, lightly stroking the skin.

  Chill bumps rose onto her arms. “Y-yes.” She hated that stutter. Hated any fear. Fear was for the weak. She’d always wanted to be strong. Strong enough to save her family.

  But they were gone.

  “The vampire who burned you…he can’t hurt you anymore, sweetheart.”

  She knew that. She and Aidan had killed the bastard. She’d hoped that with Thane Durant’s death, she’d get some peace. That maybe the nightmares would stop.

  No such luck.

  “I should get dressed. Get to the morgue.” Dr. Bob had taken the body in for examination. It wouldn’t take him long to learn what she needed…

  Was it a vamp attack? Is the dead guy going to wake up with new fangs and an appetite for blood? If so, then she and Aidan had to be on hand to stop the fellow. Victim to monster all in the blink of an eye. She’d seen that happen before.

  Unfortunately.

  Aidan eased back as she rose to her feet. Jane locked her knees so they wouldn’t tremble. She didn’t like showing weakness in front of Aidan—or in front of anyone. She hurried toward the bathroom—

  “Are you going to tell me…” Aidan’s deep, rumbling voice followed her, “who Drew is?”

  She froze. “Drew?” Her voice broke on the name, dammit. Schooling her expression, she glanced back at Aidan. “What are you talking about?”

  “Not what. Who. And you were the one talking about him.” He cocked his head as he studied her. “You were just calling out for him, begging him to help you.”

  Her face felt numb. “I don’t remember.” She spun away from him but—

  He was there. Freaking super speed. Aidan blocked the bathroom door. He stared down at her and said, “Liar.”

  Jane flinched.

  “Why keep secrets from me, Jane? I thought you trusted me.”

  “Get out of my way.” She was not having this conversation, not while she was completely naked. I don’t want to have this conversation at all. But she’d been playing Russian roulette with him for weeks now. Jane had known how dangerous it was to let down her guard with him, but she’d been helpless to stay away from her wolf.

  Now she was about to pay the price for her mistake.

  Aidan’s eyes narrowed but…he moved.

  Her breath expelled in a relieved rush as she hurried into the bathroom. She grabbed her clothes and dressed as quickly as she could. Jane risked a quick glance in the mirror. Yes, she looked nervous, dammit. Whatever. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the bathroom door and marched back into his office. “Aidan, look—”

  But she stopped because Aidan was looking at something. He was staring down at a small, black picture frame.

  A familiar frame.

  Jane frowned. She crept toward him.

  “Is this Drew?” Aidan turned the frame toward her. The photo she saw had her heart clenching. She was smiling and her arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a handsome, dark-haired man.

  “I thought that picture burned,” Jane whispered. She’d lost pretty much everything else when a deranged vampire had sent his freaking minions to burn her out of her apartment. That precious photo—she’d thought it was destroyed. “Did you save it from the fire?” Dumb question. He must have—

  “Actually, I took it long before the fire.” He turned the photo back around to face him. “I took it the first night we met. It was on your nightstand, you were passed out cold and I…I didn’t think you’d remember me when you woke up.”

  Because he’d used his alpha power to try and make her forget that whole fateful night. Only she hadn’t forgotten.

  Turned out I wasn’t exactly human so his power didn’t work on me. Jane swallowed and said, “You know, doing stalkerish things like that will get you in trouble.”

  “You look happy in the photo. I wanted to be able to see you that way every day.” His gaze rose to her face. “I often see you scared. I see you determined. I see you furious.” His lips curled. “I even see you when you’re turned on and you sure as hell know I love to look at you that way…” Aidan exhaled. “But happy? It’s hard to get you to smile, Mary Jane.”

  “Jane,” she said automatically, though she didn’t really mind when he called her Mary Jane. Only Aidan called her
that.

  Well, Aidan…and Drew. But she hadn’t seen Drew in a very long time. Since we took that picture. She’d been telling him good-bye that day.

  “I like to see you happy.”

  She closed the last bit of distance between them and took the picture from his hand. “Then don’t steal my stuff.”

  “It’s an old habit.”

  Her thumb smoothed over the wooden edge of the picture frame. “Oh, yeah? From when?”

  “From the days when I had nothing. The street was my home and I had to fight for everything I wanted.”

  Her thumb stopped moving. Aidan didn’t speak much of his past. She knew there were plenty of dark spaces there. Lots of blood and pain, but he didn’t talk about them. “You…weren’t with your pack?”

  “There was damn little of my pack left after my parents—after they died.”

  He’d stumbled a bit at the end of that sentence. Aidan wasn’t the type to stumble with his words.

  “Those who were left, they didn’t exactly have a lot of time for a kid. They didn’t know I’d turn out to be an alpha. To them, I was just a reminder of my father’s…mistake.” His jaw hardened. “I was told, again and again, not to repeat that same mistake. To never be like him.”

  Just what horrible crime had his father committed? And did she really want to know? Some things are best forgotten. Jane thought of her own family and of the secrets she’d kept. “We don’t have to be like our parents. We aren’t them.”

  “No.” He nodded. “We aren’t.”

  She glanced down at the frame.

  “When I was on my own, I took things to survive,” Aidan confessed.

  Did he expect her to judge him for that?”

  “Food, clothes. The things I needed.”

  She waited, silent, hoping he’d tell her more.

  “Later, I took things that I wanted.”

  Her gaze flew to his face.

  “A poor kid, looking in from the outside. He wants what others have. He wants the things that make them…happy.”

  “Just what kind of things are we talking about?” She was a cop, after all.

  He laughed. “Like I said, old habits.”

  “Aidan…”