Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3) (20 page)

Jane shook her head. “No, no—”

“Yes,” Lena said, voice rasping and sad. “I’m sorry but…that gift doesn’t go away. He
cannot
end. Cut him into a thousand pieces, and he will regenerate. Burn him, and the ash will merge to produce a man. It’s the darkest gift, I warned him of that…the gift that requires the highest price. He wanted to be a creature that
couldn’t
ever be banished from this world, so he became a monster with no soul. That was his price…”

Aidan curled his arm around Jane and pulled her back against his body.
Your lover will be ash.
“You still don’t understand what you’ve done, do you, Vincent?”

Jane’s brother was dead.

The djinn was free.

Paris was holding tight to Annette.

And Jane…

Aidan and Jane were still standing.

“I’ve already died once,” Aidan told Vincent, keeping his eyes locked on that soulless bastard. “And I came back. Your brilliant plan to
end
werewolves? It backfired. I’ll get Heider to run all of his tests, but I know what he’ll find…just like Jane, I’ve stopped aging. Death isn’t standing over me, waiting, because I’ve already defeated that bitch once. So I won’t be going anywhere. I’ll spend forever at Jane’s side. I’ll watch her back and I’ll love her. And you will
never
hurt those we care about again.”

Vincent’s face crumpled. “No!
No! She was the end—”

“We saved Paris, too. Now that he’s stronger, we know how to keep werewolves who transform sane…they just need enough blood, fast enough. Werewolf blood. You didn’t destroy the werewolves. You just made us stronger.” Now it was Aidan’s turn to smile. “And my whole pack will be here soon…”

“Doesn’t matter.” Vincent shook his head once, hard. “I can’t be destroyed! I can’t—”

“A stake might not take you out, losing your head might not even stop you, but…” Jane said, cutting through his words, “but you can spend an eternity in hell.”

Vincent stilled. “Wh-what?”

“I hope you’re ready for the end,” Jane told him. “Because for you, it’s coming.” She turned in Aidan’s arms and stared up at him.

Yes, they were thinking the same damn thing. He could see it.

They couldn’t kill Vincent…

But they could stop him. They could contain him.

His
end. It was fucking at hand.

Chapter Eighteen

New Orleans Homicide Detective Jane Hart stalked through the cemetery. The heavy stone mausoleums rose up around her and the statues seemed to watch every step that she took. It was long after midnight, and the cemetery
should
have been deserted…

Jane turned right.

And found a voodoo queen waiting for her. A bandage covered Annette’s neck. “It’s done,” she said simply.

Paris curled his hand around Annette’s shoulder and she settled back against him.

So, yeah, they’re definitely a couple now.
Jane was happy for them, and really damn curious to see how that relationship would work. Considering that Jane and her beast were now bound to happily-ever-after forever style, she was one hundred percent sure the voodoo queen and the werewolf-slash-vamp would make an incredible team.

“Are you sure he’s out cold?” Jane asked. She crept closer to the group assembled. Paris, Annette, Aidan, and Lena were all standing in front of a crypt that looked positively ancient.

“Vincent couldn’t be destroyed,” Lena said in her soft, husky voice. “But he can sleep. I put him under and he won’t be waking up.”

Jane stared at the entrance to the crypt. Wolf carvings were on the stone doors and a heavy, thick chain locked those doors closed.

“He’s unconscious, and he’s trapped inside a stone coffin,” Aidan rolled back his shoulders. “Werewolf guards will keep patrolling this cemetery, just in case, and Annette will scry to be sure the vamp won’t have any chance of escape.”

Jane slowly exhaled. This was the plan they’d come up with—imprisonment. Locked away, Vincent wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else.

“We could have kept him awake,” Lena said, tilting her head as she studied those stone doors. “That way, he would have felt every moment of his imprisonment.”

That was…inhumane. And there was still too much humanity left in Jane for her to do that. But…her gaze took in the lines of strain near Lena’s mouth. “How long were you with him?”

“Five centuries.” Lena’s head turned so that she met Jane’s gaze. “And every moment was hell.”

So…Lena really was a djinn. Or a genie. Or whatever folks were calling her kind these days. Though from what Lena had said, she was the last of her kind.

She could grant wishes. Could wield enormous power, but if anyone possessed her heart…

They controlled her. Completely.

Five centuries was a very long time. Jane could see why the woman would want her share of payback.

But we have to be the good guys. We can’t let the darkness take us over.
Because as she’d seen with Aidan, the darkness could be far too powerful, once it got a grip on someone. “It’s better this way,” Jane said. “He won’t hurt you again. You’re free.”

Lena smiled at her, a real smile, one that lit up her green eyes. “Yes, I am.”

Paris cleared his throat. “So…what does a djinn do…when she’s free from five centuries of hell?”

Lena tossed back her head and laughed. “Anything she wants.” Wind seemed to swirl around her. “Anything…” Her body shimmered. But then she stared at Jane. “I said he was asleep…I never said I wasn’t going to give the bastard bad dreams. I hope he chokes on the nightmares.”

Then…she vanished.

“I think I like her,” Annette said. “She has style.”

Style and the ability to kill with a thought.
Scary.

“Even if a…nightmare…were to somehow wake him…” Annette laced her fingers with Paris’s. “Vincent wouldn’t go anyplace. Before the crypt was sealed shut, I took the liberty of making a circle around his coffin. He’s not getting out.” She brought Paris’s hand to her lips. “Time for us to go, love. Cemeteries…they’re just not that sexy to me.”

He laughed. “Time to go.”

Annette and Paris had taken just a few steps when the voodoo queen hesitated and glanced back at Jane. “It could have ended differently.”

A chill skated over Jane’s spine.

“The bond between you and Aidan could have been weaker…we could have all lost everything.” Her gaze darted to the crypt. “And someone else could have been inside there.”

“Who?” Jane asked.

Annette just gave her a sad smile. “It’s nice to know that fate isn’t always determined. We can change things. If we love enough, if we fight hard enough.” Her breath expelled in a soft rush. “I’ll see you again, soon, Mary Jane Hart.”

Jane watched Annette and Paris walk away, her friend’s words still rolling through her mind.
If we love enough, if we fight hard enough…

Maybe people just had to fight harder for the ones they loved.

When she couldn’t see Annette and Paris any longer, she sidled closer to Aidan and cleared her throat. “I stopped by to see Dr. Bob.” He’d hugged her until she’d thought she might pass out from the pressure of his grip. Apparently, the man had been
very
glad they’d all survived another battle. “He confirmed your suspicions…your cells aren’t aging any longer. You’re…you’re like me that way.”

His hand curled under her chin and he gazed down at her. “So that means I have forever, with you.”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She rose onto her toes, loving that gentle touch. Loving
him.

“So, my Jane,” Aidan murmured. “What do you want to do with forever?”

She stared into his eyes. Her family was gone—her brother buried. Had Drew changed his mind at the end? Realized that what
she
was, it wasn’t so bad? Jane liked to think that he had. He’d saved her, for a second time, and the last word he’d spoken…

It had been
love.

The girl she’d been so long ago still loved her brother, despite everything.

And the woman she was…she loved the man before her.
More than anything.

“What do I want to do?” Jane asked. She smiled at him. “I was thinking maybe we’d take a vacation.”

He blinked.

“Go someplace…far away from death. Take a break from murder.” Her hand pressed over his heart. “Get naked and make love as often as possible.”

“Sounds like a fucking fine plan to me.” His words were a rumble.

It was time for them to get away. They’d fought their battles, good had won and now…

Forever was about to begin.

There would be no end for them. There would just be life—good and bad and everything in between. But during those long days and nights, they’d be together.

Happy.

Living their life. Loving each other…with a bond that was stronger than blood. Stronger than death.

One that was soul deep.

Vampires and werewolves didn’t have to be enemies. Sometimes, they could be perfect mates.

Jane and Aidan walked out of the cemetery, and they left the dead behind.

The End

###

If you enjoyed the Bitter Blood, keep reading for an excerpt from THE WOLF WITHIN, Purgatory, Book 1.

The Wolf Within (Purgatory, Book 1)

FBI Special Agent Duncan McGuire spends his days—and his nights—tracking real-life monsters. Most humans aren’t aware of the vampires and werewolves that walk among them. They don’t realize the danger that they face, but Duncan knows about the horror that waits in the darkness. He hunts the monsters, and he protects the innocent. Duncan just never expects to become a monster. But after a brutal werewolf attack, Duncan begins to change…and soon he will be one of the very beasts that he has hunted.

Dr. Holly Young is supposed to help Duncan during his transition. It’s her job to keep him sane so that Duncan can continue working with the FBI’s Para Unit. But as Duncan’s beast grows stronger, the passion that she and Duncan have held carefully in check pushes to the surface. The desire that is raging between them could be a very dangerous thing…because Holly isn’t exactly human, not any longer.

As the monsters circle in, determined to take out all of the agents working at the Para Unit, Holly and Duncan will have to use their own supernatural strengths in order to survive. But as they give up more of their humanity and embrace the beasts within them both, they realize that the passion between them isn’t safe, it isn’t controllable, and their dark need may just be an obsession that could destroy them both.

The Wolf Within - Chapter One

Special Agent Duncan McGuire raced around the street corner, chasing his prey even as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Duncan’s partner, Elias Lone, was just steps behind him. No damn way were they letting the killer escape.

The twisted bastard had already murdered four women in Seattle. Slashed their bodies. Torn out their throats. This nightmare was ending.

Duncan would make it end.

The perp rushed into an alley.

Dead end, asshole.

The killer didn’t know the city as well as Duncan did.

His hold tightened on his weapon, and he leapt right into the entrance of that narrow alleyway. “Freeze!” Duncan roared. “FBI!”

The perp—a man with long, shaggy, blond hair—was facing the brick wall that ended the alley. At Duncan’s shout, the man did freeze, for all of about twenty seconds. Then he started laughing as he spun to face Duncan and Elias.

“You humans are so out of your league,” the blond snarled. His hands were up, and, as Duncan watched, the guy’s nails began to transform—

Into long, black claws.

The blond laughed again. “Just the two of you? This should be so easy.” His teeth were lengthening. Turning into sharp fangs. As Duncan watched, the man’s face elongated. His bones snapped.

“Hell,” Elias muttered from behind Duncan. “You were right. He’s a wolf.”

Duncan smiled, but didn’t take his eyes off the killer before him. “I told you, vamps would never waste that much blood.” Since Elias had just lost the bet, the guy owed him a hundred bucks. Duncan knew his werewolves.

The blond seemed to realize that they weren’t exactly quaking in fear before him.

“What?” Duncan asked, lifting a brow. “Is this the part where we’re supposed to act shocked because you can grow fur and howl at the moon?”

“You fuckin’—”

“Sorry,” Duncan muttered, “but you’re hardly the first Para that we’ve taken down.” Actually, Duncan and Elias were part of an elite unit that
only
hunted the paranormals in Seattle. The paranormals usually hid in plain sight, mostly managing to pass for humans.

Until they started to
eat
said humans. When the vampires and werewolves went bad and humans wound up as their prey of choice, well, that was when Duncan came in.

Someone had to keep the humans safe.

Duncan’s words seemed to enrage the werewolf before him. The guy’s lips peeled back—yeah, those teeth and claws were the weapons that had ended the lives of those four co-eds—and the fellow’s body stretched as the power of the shift flooded through him.

Duncan kept his own body loose and ready. His gun was in his hand, but he wasn’t firing unless the werewolf attacked him. His orders were to take the werewolf in, not to kill him.

The werewolf’s elongated teeth snapped together.

Like I haven’t seen all this shit before.

Unlike most humans, Duncan knew the score about the supernaturals. He’d known the truth since he’d been a kid.

“Humans aren’t going to stop me!” The killer’s cry was guttural. “You can’t!” Fur burst along his skin. He fell to the ground, his knees and palms hitting the cement. His eyes glowed. “You don’t have the power!” That last was more growl than human speech as the guy completed his shift…

And became a full on wolf.

The wolf launched at Duncan.
Not coming in alive.
Duncan’s fingers tightened around the trigger. He fired. Once. Twice.

The bullets stopped the werewolf cold.

“Silver, dumb ass,” Duncan said with a sad shake of his head as smoke drifted from the wolf’s body. “It’ll stop your kind every time.” The fur slowly melted from the beast’s body. The bones reshaped. In death, the monster became a man again. Well, not completely a man. A werewolf still kept his fangs and claws at death.

“Nice shots,” Elias said, still from behind him.

Duncan grunted. He kept his weapon up as he eased closer to the body. Lowering the gun at this point would be a rookie mistake. Paras weren’t like humans. Even if they
looked
dead, half the time, they weren’t. They’d keep coming and coming and coming, just like the monsters in scary movies. Only this wasn’t a movie.

Reality was scarier than the late-night horror shows.

“You hit him in the head,” Elias said as he slid closer. “Don’t worry, man, he’s gone. He’s—”

A growl sounded from the mouth of the alley. Duncan spun around.

Too late.

It wasn’t just a lone werewolf they were hunting. He’d thought they were dealing with an isolated killer, a werewolf gone mad with bloodlust. That profile had been what the intel had showed him.

The intel was wrong.

Logan was gazing at a pack. Four other fully shifted werewolves were at the front of that alley.

They were leaping for Elias. And Elias had put up his weapon already.
Rookie mistake.

Duncan rushed forward and shoved his partner to the side, barely dodging the claws of a werewolf. Duncan aimed his gun and started firing. Again and again.

One wolf down. Another—

He felt teeth tear into his shoulder.

Into his neck.

He could smell the wild, woodsy scent of the beasts. His own blood. He could
feel
his blood, trailing down his neck, soaking his shirt.

His gun wasn’t firing. He’d used all the bullets.

More wolves were closing in…

Just as they’d closed in when he’d been four. When they’d killed his family.

When he’d lost everything but his life.

He hadn’t been able to see the wolves then, but he’d heard their snarls and his mother’s desperate cries. He could still hear those cries in his nightmares.

She hadn’t survived the attack.

He had.

Only this time, Duncan knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.

Elias was screaming. The beasts were howling.

And Duncan—Duncan was pretty sure that he was dying.

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