Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels Read online

  “I think vandalism is generally pointless.” Chantal folded her arms over her chest. “All my files were pulled out and scattered over the floor. They took my computer apart. Maybe they were looking for something, but I’m not going to know what until I get everything organized.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Dana. “Have you told the police?”

  “Of course. I filed reports and everything. I don’t know how hard they’re going to work on it. I work for the SF, and we both know how the police feel about werewolves.”

  Dana nodded. “If there’s anything I can do—”

  “Thank you, Dana, but no. You’re a patient. It wouldn’t be appropriate. Just go home. We’ll be in touch when sessions can resume.”

  Dana looked over the mess of the office. “Someone should be helping you.”

  “My secretary will be, as soon as she gets done calling all my patients. I’m all right.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Dana said again.

  “Thank you.”

  Dana turned to go.

  “Oh, Dana?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you still recovering? Thinking about him less?”

  No. I snuck down to see him, let him feel me up, tangled my tongue up with his, and then gave him my bra. “Yeah. I’m doing lots better.”

  “Would being able to see him help the case you’re working on?”

  “Yes,” said Dana. She needed to see Cole.

  “Think you could handle it?”

  “I...” Dana paused. “Yes,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  “I put in a request to block your access card from the lower level,” said Chantal. “I’ll get that revoked.”

  “Thanks,” said Dana.

  “I just don’t know when we’ll be able to see each other again, and I don’t want to stop you from doing your job.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Chantal sighed. “You’re sure you’re doing better?”

  Dana plastered on a smile. “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  “Ha! Got one,” said Avery from across the office.

  Dana got up from her desk, where she was pouring over the list of potentials and a list of people that Cole had sent letters to. “Again?”

  “Again.” He was grinning.

  She walked over to him.

  He pointed. “See? Right here. Same name. Both lists.”

  She glared at him.

  “That’s two for me, and zero for you.”

  “Whatever, Brooks. I made that potentials list. I think that affords me at least a twenty point lead.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, no way. No way. You’re a sore loser, that’s all.”

  She rolled her eyes and went back to her desk.

  “And don’t even try to tell King about it without me,” he called after her. “This is me. All me.”

  She sat down at her desk and went back to her halves of the lists. Two potentials had already received letters from Cole. Their theory was that Cole was contacting people to tell them to wolf out and kill people. But if that were the case, shouldn’t they find evidence that Cole had contacted Beverly Martin, Arnold Phelps, Trent Bailey, and Coraline Shirley?

  It didn’t seem like they had.

  The two potentials that he’d contacted had never killed anyone. And they weren’t a matched pair. They hadn’t been turned into werewolves together at the same event, like she and Cole had—or Beverly and Arnold, or Trent and Coraline. Were they the next two wolves to go rogue? Why was Cole contacting them? What did it mean?

  They needed answers.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Um, well, I totally got bit by a werewolf last year, and it meant I missed prom, which sucked,” said Amber List, twirling a curl of hair around her forefinger. She was standing outside her car in the driveway to her house. Dana and Avery had been waiting twenty minutes for her to come home. “But nothing’s screwing with prom this year. Literally nothing. I won’t let it.”

  Dana looked the girl up and down. She was wearing a ridiculous outfit that showed off way too much skin. But there was no denying that the girl was attractive. You know, for a teenager. Why was Cole sending her letters?

  “That’s great,” said Avery. “But we’re actually here to talk to you about something else.”

  “You said you were from the SF, right?” Amber smiled brightly. “Isn’t werewolves what you guys, like, do?”

  “We’re here about Cole Randall,” said Dana, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Who?” said Amber.

  “The werewolf serial killer,” said Avery. “He sent you a letter.”

  Amber made a face like she was thinking. It looked like it hurt. “Oh, yeah. I remember. I sent him a letter because I thought he was cute, and he totally wrote me back.”

  Dana’s eyes narrowed. Cute, huh?

  “You realize this guy killed werewolves like you?” said Avery. “You happen to fit his profile exactly.”

  “Oh my God, I do?” Amber’s eyes lit up. “That’s crazy. Wait until I tell everyone. He didn’t say anything like that in the letter.”

  “What did he say?” said Dana.

  “I actually still have it. You want to see it?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” said Avery.

  “Okay.” Amber started up the walkway to her front door. “It’s in my bedroom. Come on.”

  They followed her into the house.

  “Amber, are you helping these nice folks?” asked her mother. Her mother had been really worried that Amber had done something wrong. She’d wrung her hands and said, “She runs wild sometimes. I don’t know what to do with her.”

  Amber stuck out her jaw and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Mom.”

  Once they were in Amber’s bedroom, Amber slammed the door shut. Then she turned to them and whispered, “Um, you didn’t tell her you were here about Cole Randall, did you? Because she would not like that at all.”

  Avery smirked.

  “Just show us the letter,” said Dana.

  “No, not until you promise,” said Amber.

  “Listen,” said Avery, “you exchanged letters with a killer. A man who would have had no problem ripping out your throat. You did it because he was cute. You want to explain that to me?”

  Amber shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know. He is cute.” She turned to Dana. “Don’t you think he’s attractive?”

  Dana’s mouth went dry.

  Avery glared at the both of them. “All I’m saying is that maybe I should tell your mother regardless. You got a death wish or something?”

  “No,” said Amber, wide-eyed. “Not at all. I just did it ‘cause... I don’t know, just ‘cause I could. I mean, my friends thought I was all brave and stuff and I liked the attention, I guess. People think I’m weird because I’m a wolf, you know? So, like, I have to pretend that I like being weird or else they’ll start feeling sorry for me or something. Or being mean. That’s all.”

  Avery raised his eyebrows.

  “Look, the letter wasn’t even all that interesting or exciting or anything. He’s really weird, actually. Either of you guys ever talk to him?”

  Dana nodded.

  “Did he tell you that werewolves have a sacred purpose in the balance of the planet?”

  Dana smiled. “Yeah, I’ve heard some of that.”

  Amber went to her desk and dug through it until she found an envelope. “My letter was kind of flirty. His was just... creepy.”

  Dana relaxed, feeling much better all of the sudden. “He didn’t flirt back?”

  “Gray.” Avery glared at her.

  She turned away, ashamed.

  Amber handed him the enveloped.

  Avery read, “Take your place amongst the way of the wolf and embrace your duty, little moon sister.” He raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

  “You’ve not had any other contact with him?” Dana asked.

  “No,” said Amber.

  “Hav
e you ever shifted against your will since leaving the SF?”

  “No. I have control over it now. I won’t shift ever again.” She looked alarmed. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

  Avery folded the letter and slid it back into its envelope. “We’re going to need to make a copy of this. We’ll get it back to you.”

  * * *

  Cole’s letter really didn’t say much. It was two paragraphs long, and it spouted the kinds of stuff he’d said to Dana when he’d had her locked up. Things about how the world was out of balance and how werewolves were part of a natural movement to get things under control. He urged Amber to stop fighting her nature and give in to the werewolf. If he was communicating with her, it wasn’t overt. If he and Amber were working together, she hadn’t given any indication. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t lying.

  Overall, they were no better off than they had been before finding the link between the potentials and the letters.

  Dana was thinking that something was a little strange. She remembered something that she’d been reading the night before in Sullivan’s papers, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She just knew that it sounded familiar, and that it might be connected to what was going on. She needed to get back on her computer and look at it again.

  She hadn’t told Avery about it yet. She wanted to be sure she knew what she was talking about. Anyway, whatever Sullivan said might be completely nuts, and she wasn’t sure if it even meant anything. Once she’d had time to put it all together, she’d run it by her partner.

  Maybe tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to go back to her apartment, possibly eat something, maybe go for a run, look up Sullivan on the computer. Nothing too crazy.

  But when she arrived at her apartment door, Hollis was waiting for her, carrying his briefcase. He waved.

  Dana did not want to see him. She almost told him to go away, but considering their last interaction, she didn’t think it was a good idea to be rude. She needed him to like her again if he was going to publish nice things about her. That meant that she at least had to be polite.

  She tried a smile. “Hollis.”

  He smiled back, but, even though his dimples popped out, there was something cold about his smile. “Hi there, Dana. We need to talk.”

  She sagged against the wall. “Gosh, Hollis, this is a really bad day. I thought you said that you had everything you needed from me. If it’s only clearing things up, could we maybe do it tomorrow?” She gave him begging eyes. “Please.”

  Hollis laughed. “Oh, there’s a lot we have to talk about, Dana, and you’re not going to want to wait until tomorrow to do it.”

  That sounded ominous. She opened her apartment door. “Well, come in, I guess.”

  Hollis stalked inside, still grinning his cold smile. He settled on the couch in her living room and made himself comfortable, opening his briefcase and taking out several folders. “I guess you don’t have any beer.”

  “You know I don’t drink.”

  “How about a soda then?”

  God, he was bossy today. He was demanding refreshment, huh? “Sure,” she said, getting some out of her refrigerator. If he didn’t shape up, she was going to have a lot of trouble continuing to play nice.

  “You lied to me,” he said as she handed him the soda.

  “Excuse me?” she sat down opposite him. What had he found out? Certainly, there were things she’d left out. How was she going to explain it to him?

  “The reason you said you couldn’t be with me. It had nothing to do with controlling your wolf.”

  “Hollis, I’m sorry that I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” she said.

  “Well,” he said, “at least you’re a monogamous kind of girl. One guy at a time.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said.

  “You let Cole Randall fuck you when he had you tied up in his basement. And you liked it.”

  “I did not,” she said, standing up. Her face felt hot and anger was pulsing through her. The wolf perked up, eager to be let out. She drew an unsteady breath. “I think maybe you better leave.”

  Hollis was still smiling. God, would he ever wipe that smug, cold expression off his face? He took something out of one of his file folders and slid it across the coffee table to her. “Explain this, then.”

  She picked it up. It was a copy of a receipt from a drug store. She’d purchased a pregnancy test. She’d only been free from Cole for two weeks. She crumpled the receipt in one hand.

  “I have other copies, you know,” said Hollis.

  She glared at him. “How do you know I didn’t get it because of us?”

  “Because we never had sex, darling, in case you’ve forgotten that.”

  “It wasn’t never, Hollis. It was just... rare.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You’re going to publish this?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, Dana. I want the truth. I don’t get it. If he raped you, wouldn’t you have had a rape kit in the hospital? Wouldn’t they have checked then?”

  “He didn’t—” She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Right,” he said, “because you liked it.”

  “I...” She sat back down. “We didn’t even... I mean, not really...”

  “Here’s what I figure,” said Hollis. “You had a big crush on Cole Randall in high school. Watched him from afar. Then he rescued you, and you got this huge, grateful girl hard-on for him, so when he kidnapped you—”

  “Stop it,” she said. “That’s not true.” Maybe it was closer to true than she wanted to admit.

  “Admit that you found him attractive. That you still find him attractive.”

  “On the record? I don’t think so. You print whatever you want, but I’ll deny it all.”

  “Fuck the record, Dana. Admit it for me.” He leaned forward. “I have the right to know that you dumped me for a serial killer.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “So, what happened? I asked you all kinds of questions in our interviews. How much of it was true?”

  “All of it,” she said.

  Hollis picked up one of his folders and flipped through it. “Funny. I don’t remember you telling me anything like this. ‘I knew that I should be disgusted by him, but for some reason, while I was chained up there, I found myself longing for him to touch me again.’”

  Her own words! “Where did you get that?” She’d only told that to—

  “Guess.”

  “Chantal,” she breathed in realization. “You broke into her office? You’re the person who ransacked everything.”

  “Well, that’s a theory,” said Hollis.

  “You can’t print any of that. You obtained it illegally.”

  “I need a source to confirm it for me on the record,” he said.

  “I won’t confirm it,” she said.

  “You weren’t the only person there.”

  Oh, God. Cole. He was going to interview Cole. And Cole was a cocky bastard, who would have no problem bragging to the world about what he’d done to her. Hell, he’d probably show Hollis the bra she gave him. Dana covered her face with her hands.

  “I can see that you know it’s true,” he said.

  Panicked tears were threatening. “Look, Hollis, you don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m ashamed. I’m seeing a psychiatrist because I need help. I’m mentally ill.”

  “And yet you’re back at work,” he said.

  A tear slid out of one eye. She brushed it away, annoyed. “Please, don’t.”

  “The crying’s a nice touch, but it’s not going to soften me up.”

  “You don’t have to ruin my life,” she said.

  “And you didn’t have to be a complete and total bitch to me,” he said. “I thought we had a really nice relationship. I thought we were going someplace. But you didn’t care about me at all. You like a guy who kills people more than me.”

  “I don’t like him,” she
said.

  “You just like his cock.”

  “Shut up.”

  He read from his folder again. “‘I fantasize about him while masturbating. If I don’t think about Cole, I can’t get off.’” He looked up at her again. “Who knew it would only take a guy who was trying to kill you to make it easy for you to come?”

  She stiffened. “Don’t.”

  “What? We’re being so open about you right now, I don’t see why it’s a big deal to point out that it was always a really big production to try to give you an orgasm.”

  “Hollis, please.” He was horrible. He couldn’t let anything go.

  “You said it wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t. It’s always been difficult for me. It’s difficult for most women, you asshole. And Cole never...” Well, that wasn’t exactly true, was it? There was that time right before she shifted, when he was stroking her and maybe she’d kind of... “Look, it was always easier for me to, you know, do things to myself than it was for someone else to do it. Besides.” She glared at him. “You never seemed to mind.”

  “I’m not saying I did,” he said. “I’m not a total asshole. Of course I was willing to do whatever I could to get you off. You were my girlfriend. I cared about you. I could have even fallen in love with you. But now... this.” He laughed bitterly.

  “It’s not my fault. Chantal says it’s Stockholm syndrome, she says the fantasies are about taking back my power.”

  He snorted. “Not your fault? That make you feel better? To blame someone besides yourself? Instead of accepting the fact that you’re sick and disturbed?”

  She hung her head. “I know I’m disturbed.”

  “You’re telling me, darling.”

  More tears leaked out, dripping down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe at them. “Please don’t write about this Hollis. Please don’t.”

  “Answer me one question honestly, and I’ll think about it.”

  “Think about it?”

  “No promises, darling.”

  “What’s the question?”

  He took deep breath. “Did you fuck him or not?”

  “Hollis, Jesus.”

  “Why the pregnancy test if you didn’t? Tell me the truth, Dana. The fucking truth. For once.”

  “I...” She twisted her fingers together. She hadn’t told anyone about this, not even Chantal. It was too weird, too strange, too awful. “We didn’t really mean to.”