by RJ Blain
Brad had ruined my life, but he hadn’t violated me in the same way. My fury rose, and for a rare change, my virus agreed with me. “That’s my price.”
“What?”
“That’s my price. You help me off the bastard so Miranda’s not trapped any longer.”
“You’re supposed to ask for food first.”
Damn it. Were owls really that big of a pain in the ass? Then again, I operated on pure stubborn pride. I had no reason to doubt Daniel was any different. “Fine. I expect many culinary offerings from around the world. I’m not changing my mind about Brad, though. He took my life. He took hers. It’s only fair for him to lose his. Even if there was a way to break the mating bond, he’d just infect someone else, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes. That’s part of why the CDC pays Miranda to put up with the situation. They’re trying to find a legal solution, but they can’t justify killing him. If they do find some way to break the mating bond, he’d just move on to infect someone else. He could be imprisoned, but that wouldn’t help Miranda. From my understanding of the situation, there are ways to break the bond, but it’s damaging—more so than him being killed. So, they offer her monetary compensation until they can find a better solution.”
I had a solution. The only question was if I could get away with it. “We kill him, but we do so in a way the FBI and CDC turns a blind eye. Can it be done, Mr. FBI?”
“I’ll have to think about it. Maybe if I’ve gathered enough evidence he’s violated his parole terms and put him in a situation he endangers someone, it might be feasible.”
“Give me my cupcake and get to planning, Mr. FBI.”
He obeyed.
Chapter Four
As expected, the cupcake induced a sugar high and crash I’d never forget, but it didn’t tear through my stomach. All said and done, I called it my victory. My plans to execute Brad’s brutal demise sat on the curb while I ate everything in sight and slept. The limited time I stayed awake between meals, I lounged in the tub while Annie or Daniel hovered.
Had I cared about my modesty, I would’ve been in trouble; Daniel got more than a few peeks when I forgot—or chose to ignore—he was in the room. I blamed my virus. It had ideas, ideas it wanted me to pursue. I had ideas, too, but impromptu naps tended to put a damper on them before I could do more than flash some skin.
I gave myself full points for holding his attention, as the more skin I flashed, the less likely he could be talked out of the room when Annie came to check in on me.
It took a full week for me to recover to Annie’s satisfaction. When she left for good, I became the proud owner of a new driver’s license and bank card along with a list of foods I should eat. A note next to cupcakes warned me against eating an entire box of them in one sitting.
According to the bank statement Annie had brought with her, in addition to the initial settlement, my unwanted infection won me three hundred thousand, and according to Miranda, he still owed me two hundred thousand. To my delight, she’d left me a copy of his parole terms.
The bastard served as the CDC’s leashed dog, and he did whatever they wanted in exchange for not getting sent to prison. He took the high-risk jobs, and every cent of his hazard pay went to funding the settlement amount. To add to my sweet, sweet victory, the parole documentation listed the various types of jobs he had to do to remain out of prison.
I could live comfortably for years without worry of where I’d sleep, what I’d eat, or how I’d keep clothed. Restarting my life would take a chunk of the funds, but after working for over two years without spending hardly any of my earnings, I could go anywhere and do anything.
The real problem was Daniel, who dove head-first into my challenge to rid the Earth of Brad. A better woman would’ve found another way, one that didn’t involve murder, but however much I liked the idea of Brad suffering a lifetime of debt and working as the CDC’s dog, I worried for Miranda.
My virus’s determination to secure Daniel as a mate writhed under my skin. I couldn’t imagine what I would’ve done if my virus insisted on mating with someone I hated. Brad topped my short list of enemies. Were it not for Miranda, I might’ve been able to let go of the past, or at least satisfy myself with tormenting the bastard for life.
Vigilante justice might land me and Daniel in prison for a long time, but after weighing the pros and cons, I’d smile while burying the fucker and request Miranda visit from time to time.
My next obstacle was Daniel.
My virus appreciated him being close, but he hovered to the point I considered adding a second body to my to-do list. The only time he took his eyes off me was when I locked him out of the bathroom or Annie drove him off.
I needed to address his stalker tendencies sooner rather than later, especially if I wanted to return to work in a few days. Annie wanted me to wait until Thursday, believing the four extra days would add sufficient flesh to my bones and help me better adapt to a regular life.
I sat on the couch, grabbed the paperwork regarding Brad’s parole and owed settlement, and slapped it against my leg. “Any luck devising a murder plan, Mr. FBI?”
“Yes and no,” he replied, perching on the couch’s arm, close enough to touch if I leaned a little.
“Elaborate.”
“He has a bad enough record no one will put in a lot of effort looking for him should he disappear, but we’d be the primary suspects in a murder or kidnapping case. If an angel is requested, we’d face a premeditated murder charge. Miranda won’t request one, but the judge might. It depends on a lot of factors, including the circumstances of his disappearance.”
“How do we make him disappear without anyone looking for him or drawing attention to us?”
“We wait, bide our time, and catch him when he’s supposed to be traveling. With a little magic, we can create an alibi only an angel would be able to see through.”
I liked the sound of that. “What sort of magic? I don’t have any practitioner skills.”
“The same kind that tricked you into thinking my boss was a pet dog.”
“Are you implying your boss would help us dispose of Brad?”
“I’m saying there’s an entire line of people wanting to get rid of that low-life bastard. You and Miranda are at the front of it.”
“And if everyone in line, excepting Miranda, joined forces to get rid of him? What are our odds of getting away with it?”
“Terrifyingly good if we make a solid plan and hide the body exceptionally well. We’ll need to make certain suitable wolf candidates for Miranda are near her when we kill him, though. His death will hit her and her virus hard, and she’ll need a strong pack to help her through it. We’ve talked about getting rid of him a few times.”
I added find a good wolf for Miranda to my mental to-do list. “What stopped you?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
I considered all the options I had, most of which involved some form of landscaping machine. “We could run him through a mulcher, puree the mulched bits, and dump him into a river. He can feed the fish! If there’s no body, no one can find it.”
“Your first suggestion is to puree him?”
“What? It would simplify the problem of hiding the body.”
“While truth, that’s a little…” Daniel shrugged and held his hands up in surrender.
“Vicious? Brilliant?” I grinned at him.
“Gross.”
“Don’t you start with me, Daniel. We hack out balls of fur and bone after every meal. It’s not a far leap to mulch Brad.”
“Emily, you want to mulch him. That’s a far leap. How are we supposed to clean up the mess after we mulch him? The mulcher would contain a lot of evidence.”
“I’ve been informed most of life’s problems can be solved with the appropriate amount of gasoline and fire. We torch the mulcher, take it to a junkyard, crush it into a tiny cube, melt it down, and get paid by a scrapper for the raw metal.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped open.
His eyes widened, and he slowly lowered his hands. I waved my hand in front of his face, but his gaze remained locked on me. “We could drag a grill out to the site and turn it into a party. No one needs to know our bonfire has a mulcher in it. It could be a pyre! Would we need to dump him in the river if we burn him sufficiently?”
Daniel gulped. “Not to ruin your daydreaming, but the teeth and bone fragments would probably survive.”
“We could dump those in a nearby river and make sure there’s a lot of BBQ bones left at the site. Wouldn’t that hide the evidence as long as we got rid of his teeth?” I stretched, propped my feet on the coffee table, and watched him through half-lidded eyes. “Admit it. You like the idea.”
“Almost as much as I enjoyed watching you lacerate his face with your talons. I’m less concerned about getting any satisfaction out of him. I am concerned he’ll come after you. He blames you for everything he’s dealing with now. If a chance comes along, he’ll attempt to get revenge. He’s a sick bastard, and he might even try to violate his mating bond with Miranda to hurt you.”
“He’s the type,” I agreed.
“He is.”
“It’d be more criminal to leave him alive.”
“I do believe you’re right.”
“We could lure him off a cliff and peck him to death. Lycanthropes can drown, can’t they?”
“Where would we find a cliff tall enough for this plan?”
“Dover?”
“How, exactly, would we lure him to England?”
“Carefully. We could get Miranda to help. I’m sure she’d love to. It’d be a lot harder to stick his death on us if we lure him overseas. Hell, we could just dump him in the ocean. No one would miss an asshole like him.”
“He does have parents, Emily.”
“But would they actually miss him?”
Daniel sighed. “They’re his parents. I’m sure they would miss him.”
“Well, they did a shit job of raising the fucker.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
“I still think using the mulcher is a good idea.”
“You also think making a funeral pyre and hosting celebratory barbecue is a good idea, too. And I’m not sure I want to think about the trip to the metal scraper to hide the rest of the evidence.”
“Killing the bastard is worth celebrating. I’ll bring the marshmallows.”
“Only the marshmallows? What happened to the rest of the barbecue?”
“That depends on how many people would come to his mulching.”
“We’d need to hold a raffle for tickets.”
“We could do a pot luck. I’ll provide the grills, and we’ll roast marshmallows on his pyre.”
Daniel’s brows rose. “That doesn’t sound sanitary.”
“Give me a break. I said I’d buy grills for the barbecue portion of the meal.”
“And where do you propose we do this?”
I sulked. “Stop ruining my dreams of murder with your realism.”
“My realism will keep you out of jail after accomplishing your dreams of murder. It’ll be difficult to court you if you’re in prison.”
“You could join me in prison. We could share a cell.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Emily.”
“Well, it should. Fine. Not getting caught is important. Who do you know that’ll help us not get caught?”
“I’m going to have to call in a lot of favors and start a raffle,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“And you’ll have to provide a lot of meat for my grills. And cupcakes. An entire buffet table loaded with cupcakes. I think lobsters can be grilled, too. And I like mushrooms. We can grill mushrooms, can’t we?”
“Yes on all counts. I’m viewing this as my formal challenge to earn the right to court you.”
I considered him, narrowing my eyes and looking him over. If I listened to my virus, it was all but a done deal, and if it got its way, I’d be taking him to bed within the next five minutes if not sooner. Was a lifetime with Daniel worth a dead Brad?
I didn’t even have to think about it.
“If this gets rid of that lowlife fucker and frees Miranda, consider your challenge accepted. Until he’s gone, there’s no point in getting on with the rest of my life. He ruined everything.”
“I won’t pretend I understand what it’s like having the choice taken from me. I was born infected. I understood from an early age what to expect. Some doors close, but others open. You’ll figure it out. I’ll help you. Marrying me will open more doors for you, too. The FBI and CDC like partnering mates together. Local law enforcement usually separate hybrid pairs; they often need to spread out the firepower, so to speak.”
“I don’t think I’d be a good whatever you are.”
“Maybe not, but you’d make an excellent resource for finding people who don’t want to be found. I’m positive I can help you find a better job than mowing lawns.”
I bristled. “Maybe I like mowing lawns.”
“Well, if you do, we won’t need to hire a landscaper, and I promise I’ll pay better.”
“I think you’d win that competition by default. Until you came along, I worked so I could wash my clothes and pretend I wasn’t at a dead end.” As always, my bitterness surged and tainted my tone.
“It gets better from here, Emily. If making certain Brad’s never able to hurt you or anyone else is what you need to move on with your life, I’ll make it happen for you.”
I thought about it, but when all was said and done, there was only one way I could reply. “If we had an outdoor wedding, would a bonfire big enough to torch a mulcher be too much to ask for?”
“I think I can come up with something.”
Daniel invited his boss to our hotel room, and I feared we’d be arrested for planning Brad’s murder without having a chance to actually kill him. Jacob Marley, in the prime of his life with bright blue eyes and a cheerful smile, seemed too young to be anyone’s boss.
“It’s always nice when a missing persons case has a happy ending. Daniel refused to believe you’d died in that wildfire. It’s been one of my longer searches with a life at the end of the investigation. That said, don’t disappear on him again. My wife’ll take my balls for a trophy if we have to keep traveling trying to track you down.”
I frowned. “Why? Why put in so much effort looking for me?”
Jacob pointed at Daniel. “We’ve learned when it comes to dedicated lycanthropes in bad situations, the wisest course of action is to help. He’s a good operative, and by finding you, we remove his distractions. You’re a victim deserving justice, but to get you that justice, we had to find you first.”
“I told Daniel I’d marry him if we could torch Brad’s mulched remains in a bonfire at our wedding.”
“She’s a direct one, isn’t she?” Daniel’s boss muttered.
“I appreciate not having to make any guesses. She’s worked herself up to an outdoor wedding with a bonfire meant to incinerate Brad’s mulched remains while otherwise destroying the evidence of wrongdoing. Her motivations do include helping Miranda.”
“Moving beyond standard revenge is important.”
As Daniel deserved some discomfort, I said, “I’ve been informed Daniel had, from an early age, intended to find some clever way to infect me with lycanthropy, so as such, he has potential stalker issues we should address. I view Brad’s unfortunate loss of life and ultimate disappearance as penance for his stalker tendencies. I’m pretty sure he hovers outside of the bathroom door when I shower.”
“He’s probably hoping you’ll invite him in. Lycanthrope ladies typically determine when their suitor may continue his advances. He’s going to shad
ow you until you formally reject him or invite him to your bed. Ural owls are doubly tricky, as you’ll likely remain semi-uninterested until you’ve accepted his offerings. Your species is more ritualistic than others, although I suspect Daniel will be more impatient than other Ural owls.”
Daniel sighed. “My parents are going to be so disappointed in me, but it’s true. I’m trying to uphold their standards for courting you. I think I’ve been doing okay on that front.”
“I wish you the best of luck, Daniel.” Jacob picked up the stack of Brad’s parole papers and flipped through them. “Here’s the deal. Brad’s been past his third strike for a while now. It’s been documented he’s violated some terms of his parole. His state of residency bars the death penalty. As such, Miranda’s stuck. We’ve tossed around the idea of issuing a kill bounty through the black markets, but the problem is with Miranda. She’s been with him long enough the CDC is unwilling to cause her additional trauma. However, I will divulge a flag in his record: the CDC will not investigate any disappearances unless Miranda is the one to file the request. The FBI has been notified of the flag and have issued their approval as well. As long as no evidence of murder is uncovered, he’ll be listed as missing and presumed dead. It’s unusual, but Miranda’s testimony would have warranted the death penalty if his state of residence permitted it. He’s very careful to keep his residency the same. He’s aware he’s courting the death penalty if he moves. In law enforcement terms, lethal force may be used in case of any signs of aggression towards you or Miranda. Daniel, if you were to get into a fight with him over Emily, you’d face some community service but be able to maintain your badge. Expect a six month suspension to deal with community service. Since I’m an asshole and have connections, I may insist your community service time involve settling Emily and Miranda following Brad’s death. It would be the best use of resources. In Miranda’s case, you’d be responsible for finding an appropriate wolf to partner with her.”