Bite The Dust by Cynthia Eden

Author:Cynthia Eden [Eden, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Hocus Pocus Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2015-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The fire was out. The shooter was gone. And Jane—Jane was staring up at her blackened building with eyes that were angry and a face that was smudged with soot.

Aidan approached her slowly. The shooter had been smart. He’d stayed far enough away that Aidan hadn’t caught his scent. He’d fired—using a rifle—and taken out his targets from a safe distance back.

Did he tell you fools…if you don’t succeed, you die?

Aidan rather doubted that their deaths had been part of the deal that the men had made.

One of the fire fighters approached Jane. It wasn’t hard to overhear his words. “We stopped the fire, detective. Didn’t spread to the other units, but your place…it’s looking like a total loss.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t say anything. Just gave a solemn nod. Her gaze was on her balcony.

The guy put his hand on Jane’s shoulder. “The fire marshal will be here soon.” He squeezed her. “I’m sorry.”

Aidan’s eyes turned to slits. The comforting fire fighter could move the hell on. There were still some smolders that he needed to address.

Aidan stepped forward. The guy looked at him. Aidan looked back, then he made a very slow process of glancing at the guy’s hand. A hand still curled around Jane’s shoulder.

The fire fighter snatched his hand back and went to go take care of the smolders.

“What did you do?” Jane murmured. “Flash some fang?”

He sidled closer to her. “Hardly.”

“Did you already make Roth and Mr. Jenkins forget that you jumped off the balcony and didn’t even get a scratch on you when you landed?”

She wasn’t looking at him. Just still staring at the balcony. Aidan cleared his throat. “They didn’t notice, so nothing to explain.” The two men had been dazed at the time. Dazed and not helping Jane fight off her attackers. The older guy—Aidan got that Jenkins might be too weak to fight back. But the Roth jerk? When a woman is getting attacked, you help her. You don’t run for cover and leave her vulnerable.

Even if the woman knew how to kick some serious ass. Everyone could use some back-up.

“My whole life was in that apartment.” Her voice hitched with sorrow.

“You’ll stay with me.”

She kept her gaze on the smoking balcony. “You have this serious tendency to dictate instead of asking. I’m going to assume that’s an alpha thing? ‘Cause you’re used to giving orders to your pack?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not part of the pack. So ask with me.” Her gaze finally slid to him. So dark. He wished he could read all of the emotions in her eyes. “You need to—” Her words ended in a little gasp. “Is that my grandmother’s quilt?”

He lifted it up and, keeping his voice expressionless said, “Will you stay with me?”

Her hands reached for the quilt. She stroked it carefully, lovingly. “It’s my quilt.”

Like he’d risk the fire for anyone else’s quilt. He’d gone into the flames before he jumped off that balcony just to get the quilt for her. His lips curved. “I’m afraid it might be a little smoky.

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