Moon Dance Read online

  “Really?” Dana was surprised.

  “Well, yeah, with everything we’ve been going through today, it seems like the last thing you should be trying to do is make dinner.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

  Dana thought she might burst with gratitude. “That sounds wonderful.”

  He grinned at her.

  “I’ll drive out and pick it up,” she said.

  “You don’t have to.” He got up off the couch. “I can do it.”

  Dana got up too. “You’ve been working all day, babe. I can run to the pizza place. Besides, I think I’d enjoy getting out of the house.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to leave so bad?”

  She drew back. “I was just trying to—”

  “You meeting him somewhere?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.” Avery’s voice had dropped to a growl.

  “Cole, you mean?” She put her hands on her hips. “Well, how would I have managed that, Avery? You took my phone, so it’s not like I talked to him. And what do you think I did? Somehow predicted that you’d suggest we order out so that I could run off and have a secret tryst with him? Get real.”

  “You seemed really happy when I suggested that we order out is all.”

  “Because I’m sick of cooking all your meals like a slave.” And now she was yelling.

  “Jesus, Dana.” Avery dragged a hand over his face. “You’re not a slave. You don’t have a job. Cooking meals is your job.”

  She turned away from him.

  Piper wrapped her arms around Dana’s leg. “Who Cole, Mommy?”

  Avery’s jaw tightened. “Now, look what you did.”

  “Me?” she said. “I’m not the one who’s acting ridiculous and jealous.”

  He held up both his hands in surrender. “You know what? You go to the pizza place. But, you know, for once, I’d like to come home and not have everything turn into a war between us.”

  She decided to let that alone. Things were not a war between them, not always. Maybe between her and Piper they were, but Avery was exaggerating. As usual.

  She grabbed the car keys and left the apartment.

  The twenty minutes out of the house were a sweet, sweet solace from everything else in her life. She loved driving. Hell, she loved fighting traffic. She loved sitting in the restaurant and waiting for the pizza to be made. Because all of it happened on her own terms. She could set the radio to whatever station she wanted. She could make whatever decisions she wanted. She was blissfully alone, no one chattering at her or screaming or scolding.

  When she got the pizza and got back in her car to drive home, she shut the car door and abruptly burst into tears.

  “I hate my life,” she whispered.

  It was some kind of sick joke, that’s what it was. She’d spent her whole life hearing about happily-ever-afters. All the movies ended with the couple walking down the aisle, gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes. The message was clear. Once you were married, once you found the right man and had a family with him, that was supposed to be it. Well, here it was. Dana had reached the ultimate goal of every woman in the movies. She was married to a good-looking man who supported her. She had a beautiful daughter. She didn’t have to work, because everything was provided for her. So, why wasn’t it a happy ending? Why wasn’t she happy? What more was it going to take?

  But there was no time to fall apart, because if she took too long, she knew Avery would be suspicious, and she didn’t want to deal with that.

  Instead, she pulled herself together, scrubbed away her tears with her palms, and headed back home.

  When she let herself back into the house, Avery was on the phone.

  “…no, there’s no reason to bring her in to talk to him…. There’s no reason for her to go near him ever again…. It would be traumatic for her. It might bring up old memories. You realize the man tried to kill her, don’t you?… Well, whatever you heard about what happened in Brockway is just rumors. She doesn’t want to see him, trust me.”

  Dana put the pizza down on the breakfast bar. Who was Avery talking to? And who was he talking about?

  Avery hung up the phone. “Hey, you’re back already. That was fast.”

  She folded her arms over my chest. “What’s going on, Avery?”

  “We brought in Randall. I got Jeff in IT to trace the call to your phone. We found his cell, and the signal led us right to him. They’ve already got him in one of the interrogation rooms. Apparently, he asked for you, but I’m not putting you through that.”

  She swallowed. Her whole body was starting to shake. Cole was here? He was in one of the interrogation rooms in headquarters?

  She wanted to see him, she realized. She wanted to see him badly.

  Avery opened up the pizza box and took out a slice. He kissed her quickly on the cheek. “I’ll be back, babe.”

  She couldn’t say anything. She watched him walk out of the apartment, and she shook.

  * * *

  Avery’s heart was beating in his chest, pounding out a crazy rhythm. He hadn’t realized that the prospect of seeing Cole again would make him so nervous. But now that it was happening, he was glad. He wanted this man to be locked up forever. Safe from Dana, so that he could never hurt her again.

  And maybe he wanted him away from Piper too. Just on the off chance that Cole might…

  No, Cole wouldn’t. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d care about things like that. About children.

  Avery was met outside the interrogation room by Ursula King, head of the tracker division. She used to be his boss. She was a no-nonsense African American woman who wore her hair in long, tiny braids. She crossed her arms over the lapels of her gray suit. “Brooks, he’s insisting on talking to Gray.”

  Avery shook his head. “She doesn’t want to see him.”

  Ursula gave him a hard look, as if she didn’t believe him.

  Avery looked away. Ursula could think what she wanted. He’d do everything in his power to protect Dana, to protect his family, to protect his pack. If he had to lie, so be it. “Look, I was there for everything. I know anything that Dana would know.”

  Ursula sighed. She opened the door to the interrogation room and let him inside.

  The room was small and unadorned. There was only a table in the middle of the room. Max Jones, one of the trackers, sat on one side.

  Cole was on the other side.

  Avery hardly recognized him. Every other time he’d seen Cole, the man’s appearance had almost been proper. He usually sported short cropped hair and a pair of glasses. He was a thin, wiry man. Avery had always found him nearly effeminate, and that was part of the reason Cole disgusted him so much.

  But Cole didn’t look that way anymore. His hair was long, hanging past his shoulders. It hadn’t been combed or washed in quite some time. It was tangled and greasy. Cole also had a huge, bushy beard. He looked like a wild man, and there was something in his manner that unnerved Avery.

  When he walked in, Cole’s gaze darted over to him, and his body twitched. But it was the twitch of an animal, not of a human. Cole’s muscles tensed and his eyes narrowed. Avery had the distinct impression that Cole was going to spring on him and rip out his throat.

  But Cole was chained. His hands were chained together. His feet were chained to the floor. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Cole fixed his feral gaze on Avery, baring his teeth. He uttered something that sounded like a growl.

  Avery swallowed, halting in his tracks.

  Ursula seemed unnerved by Cole’s manner as well. She cleared her throat as she slowly approached the table. “Mr. Randall?”

  Cole looked at her instead, moving like a predator again. “Yes?”

  Oh, but there was Cole’s voice, the voice that Avery remembered. Unaffected, sarcastic, even a little amused.

  Avery hated him all over again. He stalked over to the table and sat down. “What do you know about the attack on the west coast SF?”
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  Cole turned to him with lithe grace and leaned across the table. “Where is she?”

  In spite of himself, Avery recoiled. There was something savage about Cole now, something dangerous. He was a caged wolf, and Avery didn’t think he’d ever seen a person behave that way.

  “Dana Gray doesn’t want to see you,” said Ursula quietly.

  Cole’s eyes flicked back and forth between Avery and Ursula.

  Avery’s breath caught in his throat. He was seized again with the certainty that Cole was going to lunge.

  But Cole settled back in his chair and put his chained hands in his lap. “Well, then, I won’t tell you anything.”

  Ursula pressed her lips together. “But you know something?”

  Cole stretched his neck. “I know who did it. I know what their plans are. But I called Dana in the first place. That’s the only person I want to talk to.”

  “Too bad,” said Avery. “You’re never going to see her.”

  Cole eyed him. “Because you won’t let her.”

  “No.” Avery’s voice was icy. “Because she hates you.”

  Cole smiled. At least maybe he did. It was tough to see under all his facial hair. “Hates me so badly that she’d risk the safety of the entire Sullivan Foundation? I don’t think so. I think you’re just trying to keep your mate in line. You’re afraid that if she sees me, it’ll be just like all the other times she’s seen me.”

  “Well, you’re not much to look at right now,” said Avery.

  Ursula put her hand on his arm and gave him a look.

  Avery took a deep breath. He knew better. Insulting a prisoner during interrogation was generally a bad idea.

  “That’s an interesting choice of words,” said Ursula. “Mate.”

  Avery felt his whole body grow cold. Damn it. Why hadn’t he remembered this part before he brought Cole back to the SF? Everyone assumed that Dana’s alpha bond to Cole had been broken because Cole died. No one knew that Avery had mated with her instead. He and Dana had kept it a secret because the organization was distrustful of werewolf bonds. They weren’t sure if the SF would think they were unstable because of it.

  Ursula cocked her head. “Are you and Ms. Gray still werewolf mated, Mr. Randall?”

  Cole looked surprised by the question. “Well, no, we’re not.” He looked back at Avery and chuckled. “You didn’t tell them. Is it a big secret?”

  Avery cleared his throat. “We’re here to talk about what you know, not about—”

  “How did you break the bond?” said Ursula. “If you’re not dead, then how do I know she isn’t mated to you? And believe me, Mr. Randall, if that’s the case, I’m not letting her near you.”

  Cole scratched his beard. “Why don’t you talk to Brooks about that?”

  Ursula furrowed her brow. She gave Avery another look, and he could see that she was putting all the pieces together.

  Damn it.

  He looked back at Cole. “I think you’re lying about all of it, anyway. I don’t see how you could know anything about the attack out west. It was a group of werewolf haters—a bunch of humans who don’t like wolves and want to see us all dead. I don’t see what you would know about that.”

  “Well,” said Max, who had kept silent up until now, “he did kill werewolves. Cole Randall, the wolf serial killer who kills his own.”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t about that,” said Avery.

  Max looked around Ursula, eyebrows raised.

  “He was trying to make a pack,” said Avery. “He killed the ones he couldn’t make submit. The killing was a side effect, not an intention. Technically, I suppose he’s not even really a serial killer. He’s some kind of nut who thinks werewolves are closer to nature and that we should all give in to our animal instincts or something.”

  Cole clasped his fingers together. “You see? I’m not even dangerous.”

  “I didn’t say that,” said Avery.

  Cole sat forward again, grinning at them viciously. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I’m thinking that maybe I was selling myself short before.”

  Avery’s nostrils flared. “If you aren’t going to tell us—”

  “I want a pardon,” said Cole.

  “Oh, no,” said Avery. “We played this game before. If you think—”

  “I know more about it now,” said Cole. “I want you to issue me the same document that’s issued for every wolf who violently kills before going through your training. You issue something that says they can never be held accountable for their actions because they acted with impaired mental capacity. And that’s what I want.”

  Avery couldn’t believe this. Of course, he had one of those documents on file. They were referred to as DMC docs, which stood for “diminished mental capacity.” Avery had killed his family and several neighbors the night of his first shift, and those actions had been pardoned officially. “Randall, you didn’t act with impaired mental capacity. You knew what you were doing.”

  “Not really.” Cole scratched his beard again. “You see, growing up in the manner that I did, I was given a very shaky grasp of morality and the value of life. My father punished me by using psychotropic poisons, which didn’t really help with my development. Anyway, it was only six people. Brooks here has killed more people than I have.”

  “And what about the Brockway Massacre?” said Avery. “The number of people killed in that gymnasium is staggering. And you’re responsible for that.”

  “Am I?” Cole curled his lip. “How do you propose to prove that? I was injured in the Brockway Massacre, Brooks. Terrorized, really.”

  “You’re not getting a pardon,” said Avery.

  “That’s my new price,” said Cole. “I want a pardon. I want to go free. And I don’t want to talk to anyone besides Dana Gray. Give me those things, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know about the attack out west.”

  * * *

  “We just didn’t feel it was anybody’s business,” Avery said. He was in Ursula’s office. After giving his pronouncement, Cole had refused to say another word, so eventually he was taken back to his cell. Ursula had asked Avery to come with her for a chat. She immediately began asking him questions about whether or not he was mated to Dana and why the two of them had kept it a secret.

  “I guess I should have realized,” said Ursula. “The two of you were always friendly before, but you didn’t have a romantic connection. The fact that you were suddenly so deeply in love should have set off red flags for me, especially considering that she’d been mated to Randall just days before. But I didn’t want to think about anything else being wrong.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with it, King.”

  “Well, obviously, you wouldn’t think so,” she said. “You’re mated. You’ve got weird mojo sending out sparks in your brain, manipulating your emotions or something. Honestly, we don’t really understand how it works.”

  “It’s not weird mojo,” said Avery. “It’s no different than a human bond. It’s maybe a little more intense. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Possibly there is,” she said. “Possibly, this bond is interfering with our working with Randall.”

  “No,” said Avery. “It’s not.”

  She pursed her lips. “You swear to me that Gray is the one that didn’t want to see Randall?”

  “Of course,” said Avery. “She hates him. He tried to kill her.”

  “That never made her hate him before,” said Ursula. “Of course, I have to admit I haven’t seen her in a long time. I really don’t know where her head is.”

  “That’s right. You don’t,” said Avery. “But I see her every day. And so I know how she feels.”

  Ursula nodded slowly. Then she gestured with her head. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

  Avery followed her over behind her desk. She powered up her computer and then pulled up a series of pictures.

  They were of the attack out west. The SF headquarters was built
similarly to the one here on the east coast—same design, but different color schemes and slightly different placement. It was like looking at a twisted vision of his own home. In this alternate universe, the whole of headquarters was littered with dead bodies. People in their beds with gaping holes in their heads. People in the hallways, lying half inside their doorways, as if they’d tried to get free but been killed before they could. There was blood everywhere, and Ursula had so many pictures. She kept flipping through them, one after another, each more horrifying than the last, until Avery thought he might start screaming.

  “Stop,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “It was bad, Brooks,” she whispered. “It was bad, and we don’t have a clue who did it. Randall is our only lead.”

  “We’re not even supposed to be investigating. These were humans. It’s not our jurisdiction.”

  “You actually think the humans are going to do anything about this? They couldn’t care less about some dead werewolves. You brought this lead to our attention, and now you’re mucking it up.”

  “Me?”

  “Randall might have spilled everything to Gray. We all know that he behaves differently when it comes to her. He even helped us back in Brockway, didn’t he?”

  “No, he didn’t really. Everything would have gone down exactly the same way—”

  “You don’t know that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I don’t know how things might have gone if Gray had been there for his questioning. But I do know that he’s become even more difficult now. He’s demanding a pardon, and I can’t help but think that you’re the reason he’s even harder to work with.”

  Avery squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s playing us, King. He doesn’t know anything about any of it. How would he know about a human attack on werewolves? He made it up to have a chance to talk to Dana.”

  “He made it up the night before the attack? That’s quite a coincidence. Especially when he hasn’t been in contact with her for years.”

  Avery sighed. “You can’t believe him.”

  “All I know, Brooks, is that you’re not clear when it comes to him. And I can’t help but wonder how much of that comes from this mating I didn’t even know about.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with—”