Free Bitter Blood (Blood and Moonlight Book 3) by Cynthia Eden Page B

of the ambulance with Paris. A brace was around Paris’s neck and Paris…he looked like hell. But then, that was expected considering the bomb that he’d left for the wolves up in that apartment.
John Smith.
Not his real name, of course. He couldn’t use his real name now. It would have tipped off Jane and Aidan too much.
    “How is he?” he asked, trying to sound concerned. And he was a bit concerned. If Paris was already dead, this little experiment wouldn’t work. He’d have to find another guinea pig. Guinea wolf?
    The blonde EMT jerked at his voice and glanced up at him. “I don’t even know how he’s still alive,” she said, voice breathless. “But I’m praying he can make it to the hospital. Did you see him? He came from the second story!”
    “They all did,” he said quietly. “The building was collapsing. I don’t think they had a choice. It was jump or die.”
    Her eyes widened.
    “I have training,” he said, still trying to sound like he cared. “Let me help you. There isn’t anything else I can do back there.” He jerked his thumb toward the fire. Then, without waiting for her response, he climbed into the back of the ambulance.
    His gaze focused on Paris’s neck. The brace was there, so…did that mean his neck was broken?
The guy is still breathing. So that means this shit should work.
His hand reached into his pocket.
    “I’ve got this,” the blonde said quickly. “My partner will be here soon and—”
    He drove a needle into her neck. She immediately slumped over. The drug was fast, it knocked out its prey immediately, but unconsciousness only lasted for mere moments. He had to work fast, especially if her partner really was coming back.
    He reached inside his borrowed uniform and took out another vial. One that was filled with a thick, red fluid. Blood.
    Very special blood. He opened Paris’s mouth and emptied that blood inside. “You were supposed to die today,” he whispered. “But maybe this is even better.” Paris swallowed automatically, a reflex that made things so much easier. When he was sure that Paris had gotten the blood down, he shoved the empty vial into a pocket. Then he leaned over Paris once more. “I don’t think your neck is broken…” And Paris was starting to get color in his cheeks already. That just wouldn’t do.
    After all, he did need a good test subject.
    “Here, let me help you with that.” Fitting, considering the way Mary Jane Hart had been transformed. Smiling, he put his hands on either side of Paris’s neck and he yanked, twisting as hard to the right as he could.
    Paris jerked, then shuddered…and lay very, very still.
    “That’s so much better.” He hurried from the ambulance. He jumped down just in time to see…
    Jane. Being zipped up into a body bag.
    Ah, Jane…I know you won’t stay dead.
    So did his boss.
    ***
    Jane opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Darkness surrounded her, complete and total. Her body ached and her fangs throbbed in her mouth. She strained, trying to see through the dark, trying to find light, but there was nothing.
    Where is Aidan? What happened to me?
    Her hands lifted and she discovered that something was over her. Some kind of—of fabric? Hard, rough. She kicked out with her legs and found that they were trapped, too. It was as if she were sealed up in something. Locked up.
    Bagged.
    Oh, my God, no.
Understanding hit her with a brutal punch.
A body bag.
    Revulsion built in her chest and she clawed at the bag above her head. Clawed until it ripped beneath her fingers and cool air spilled down to her. Air and light and—
    “Easy, Jane.”
    She stilled.
    A hand—with slightly plump fingers and super soft skin—touched her wrist. “You’re okay,” that reassuring voice told her. “A whole lot of humans just saw your swan dive out of the burning building, so Vivian and I had to do the best damage control we could.” He pulled her up, easing her out of the bag.
    She stared at Dr. Bob