“Fuck!” Aaron yelled, pulling the make-shift stake from Aric’s chest. He shoved off him and paced to Alana, then back to the vampire. “Her fucking pupils are blown out, man. Get out of her head. Fix her. Now!”
The relief was instant. It was as if she’d been suffocating with a plastic bag over her head, and it was that glorious moment when her lungs filled with beautiful life-giving oxygen. Alana’s muscles relaxed, but then tensed again when she scrambled upward, cupping her throbbing neck.
Aric was on his hands and knees now, gasping and holding his chest where he’d been inches away from wood through the heart. Aaron wasn’t okay. He was snarling savagely and pacing, and the air in her small apartment was almost too thick to breath. “She’s mine, Aric.”
“I know. That’s why—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen! She’s mine. My claim, my mate. If you can’t convince your coven to leave her alone, you’ll have that war. Only it won’t be two hundred vamps against the Bloodrunners. I’ll call in every fucking crew of shifters on the goddamn planet. Every dragon, every bear, every boar, every big cat, every gorilla, every bird of prey will be fighting for your final deaths. You won’t be able to find a hole deep enough to hide from my wrath, is that clear?”
“There are rules—”
“Aric, I’m saving your people from extinction right now when all I want to do is stake you and piss on your fucking ashes. Yes or no? Is. That. Clear?”
The vampire’s eyes glowed with fury in the moment before he wised up and dropped his gaze from Aaron’s. “We’re clear. I’ll handle my coven.”
“Get out.”
Aaron’s greenish gold eyes tracked the vampire as he strode immediately out the open doorway. The door was lopsided on the frame, held up by one bent hinge, and the small window on it was shattered. Where it had been locked, the deadbolt had ripped right through the doorframe. Aaron had forced his way in, and now she realized how much power he’d been hiding from her. She knew about vampires. Everyone did, and they were supposed to be the strongest beings on earth. Someone had lied to the humans. Aaron Keller had just cowed the King of the Asheville Coven, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Shifters ruled the world, and no one even knew it but them.
She had stayed strong up until the moment Aaron’s attention swung slowly to her. The feral snarl was gone, and in its place, worry. “Are you okay?” he whispered, approaching her slowly.
What was the point in lying if he could sense it? “No.” She looked around her apartment, which had been trashed by Aric’s bats. The floor was covered in shattered glass and debris, and her neck stung like Aric’s teeth were still piercing her. “I didn’t mean to let him in.” She hated feeling weak, and for some reason, this all felt like… “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s really not.” Aaron shook his head, and his blazing eyes filled with ruthless honesty. “This is his fault. It’s my fault. It isn’t your fault. Let me see.” He pried her cupped hand away from her neck and grimaced. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“No.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because I’m not a shifter, Aaron. Maybe you bleed all the time, but I’ve never had more than a papercut in this apartment. I’m Steady Alana, remember? Boring life. Safe life. No bleeding, no need for first aid.” She wasn’t being fair. This really wasn’t his fault either, but she was panicking and desperate to place the blame somewhere just to cope with what had happened.
Aaron drew her in close, crushed her against his chest. “Alana, you’re okay. I swear I’ll keep you safe. That’ll never happen again.”
She closed her eyes and clutched onto his shirt as a sob wrenched its way up her throat. How would she ever be able to feel truly okay again? Aric had controlled her mind, her body. She was supposed to be some blood-debt for the Bloodrunners, whatever that meant.
Aaron sighed and pulled her behind him to the bathroom. He dug through the linen closet and found a washrag, then pressed it against her neck. And without any explanation, he started shoving some of her clothes willy-nilly into an oversize black tote bag.
“Where are we going?”
“To Harper’s Mountains.” His hand shook as he reached for a blouse on her bed, and he hesitated, clenched his fist like he was trying to steady it. “You can’t stay here. Not when you’ve already invited Aric in. Not when the damn door is off its hinges.” His voice was an unrecognizable growl now. It was clear he was struggling with something she didn’t understand—his bear perhaps?
She rested her hand gently on his back, and he tensed. Locking his arms against the bed, he said, “Please don’t fight this, Alana. I can’t be away from you right now. I just can’t.”
“Okay. I want to go. I want to stay with you.”
The rock hard muscles of his back relaxed fractionally, and he pulled his cell from his back pocket and told her to, “Pack what you need for tonight,” as he punched buttons on the glowing screen.
The second she was finished packing her toiletries, he shouldered her tote and pulled her through the disheveled living room and out the front door. He spent some time settling the door snugly into place, then led her at a jog around her café to the small parking lot out front where his motorcycle sat gleaming under the single street light.