He pulled out his phone and called his boss. “You’ll want to get a clean-up crew here. Immediately.” Before anyone stumbled into the alley and saw hell.
“Disappointing results? Did Jane fail?”
He smiled as he looked at the dead men. “No, it was a promising night. Very, very promising…” A near perfect start.
***
Jane’s blood was on his hands.
Aidan fucking hated that.
He carried Jane up the stairs and into his office at Hell’s Gate. The club was packed, filled with humans and werewolves, but no one even glanced twice at him as he held Jane. Why would they? The humans didn’t see the blood, he had her pulled too close for that. And the werewolves knew better than to question him about Jane.
He went up the stairs and two of his pack members immediately took up a position on the ground floor, blocking the bottom of the staircase. They’d make sure he wasn’t followed.
And he could focus on what mattered most—Jane.
“Aidan…” Her voice was so husky and weak. “I…I need blood.” A hushed confession. Shamed.
Jane should never be ashamed. Not of anything.
He took her inside his office. Kicked the door shut. Then he hurried across the room and put her on his couch. She gave a little moan when her back made contact with the leather.
“Baby…” He brought his wrist to her mouth. “Take everything that you need.”
Her lips closed over his wrist. He felt the quick lick of her tongue, the press of her teeth and then—
Pleasure. White hot. Seeming to race along his veins and go straight to his heart. Need, lust, a dark desire built inside of him. He clenched his teeth and locked down his muscles, refusing to move. Jane was hurt. Jane needed his blood—she didn’t need him falling all over her like a sex-crazed madman.
She was shot. Bleeding out. Those bastards wanted to kill my Jane.
And he was sick of her being prey.
Her dark eyes met his. He could see the strength coming back to her and the link they shared—that deep, basic, primitive link that always seemed to bind them—grew even stronger. She licked his wrist once more, then eased back. “Aidan.” Her lips curved faintly. A drop of his blood was on her bottom lip. “Aidan, you have to take the bullets out. I…I can’t heal until they’re out.”
He knew that, dammit. Just as he knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her.
But Jane was rolling over, his blood having given her strength. She pressed her stomach to the couch and her blood-soaked back was inches from him.
“Don’t worry,” Jane said quickly. “I won’t move, I promise.” Her voice was stronger. “I won’t make a sound…”
Because she didn’t want him to hear how much he was hurting her.
“I can get a doctor,” Aidan muttered. “Dr. Bob will be here in—”
“I need them out.” She spoke quietly as she added, “They…they’re close to my spine, Aidan, too close, and I-I can’t feel my legs.”
His heart stopped beating. He remembered when she’d been shot. The way she’d fallen. He’d thought her knees had just given way but—
Jane turned her head to look back at him. “Vamps heal.” She nodded determinedly. “Once they’re out, I’ll heal.”
Pain clawed at his insides. He wanted to bellow his fury. This shouldn’t be happening. Darkness bled around his eyes. The rage was so strong and hot—his claws burst out, his canines lengthened, and the beast he kept chained deep inside tried to leap out of him.
No. Not now. Not yet.
His fingers were trembling when he reached for her. The hands of a beast with dark claws that could—and had—killed a man in mere seconds. He cut away her shirt and saw the wounds in her back, wounds that still bled, and, yes, they were far too close to Jane’s spine.
“Let me get the doctor,” he said again, his chest aching as he stared at her skin. Dr. Bob Heider was the main medical examiner in town, but the doctor was also on Aidan’s payroll. When supernaturals needed patching up, Dr. Bob was called in for the job. Dr. Bob could come now and use far more care as he treated Jane. He wouldn’t cut into her with claws—
“No need for Dr. Bob. We both know…it will just prolong the pain.” Her eyes were closed. Her cheek was turned toward him. “Please, Aidan. Get them out.”
He swallowed and his claws cut into her skin. She stiffened at the first cut but didn’t make a sound, just as she promised. No moans of pain. No screams. Nothing.
But Aidan saw the tear that slid down her silken cheek and it felt as if she’d just gutted him.
One bullet. It came out easily—a fucking wooden bullet.
He’d known the men weren’t firing silver bullets. As soon as they’d hit him, he’d known. But…
Wooden bullets meant they were in that alley for one purpose—to kill a vampire. To kill my Jane.
His claws reached a second bullet. He pulled it out. Stained with her blood. So small.
So dangerous.