The same Hunter’s Moon Farm? How crazy was that? There were werewolves on that farm? “I, uh, grew up in Brockway, Virginia.”
“Really?” Mabel grinned. “Small world, huh?”
* * *
When Dana was seventeen, she’d been one of two survivors of the Brockway Massacre, in which two rogue werewolves had killed an entire gymnasium full of students, parents, and community members attending a high school basketball game. Dana had been bitten, and that was when she’d contracted the lupine virus. The only other survivor had been Cole Randall.
She and Cole had both been taken in to the SF and gone through the training to suppress their wolves. They’d both continued training to work for the SF. But Cole had dropped out halfway through the process, and Dana hadn’t seen him again until the night that he’d captured her and kept her in his basement. At first he tortured her, telling her he was working up his nerve to kill her. Then he’d decided to teach her how to control her wolf, so that the two could have a duel in wolf form—the best werewolf would win. In the end, there hadn’t been a duel at all. Instead, wolf instinct had kicked in, and the two had mated.
It was impossible for Dana to think of Brockway without thinking about the massacre. And it was impossible to think about the massacre without thinking about Cole.
Now, standing outside on Mabel Smith’s porch, gripping the railing, she remembered Cole in that moment, when she was seventeen in a gym full of screaming people. It had started right after halftime.
Adam and Chase, the boys who were responsible for the killing, had locked all the exits to the gym. Days before, they’d stolen the keys from the gym teacher in an elaborate scheme that involved Adam distracting the teacher while Chase sneaked into his office and got the key.
Dana didn’t know the boys. She and they traveled in different social circles. Adam and Chase were skuzzies—trailer trash. They’d worn Metallica t-shirts and dyed their hair black. Chase had even worn black eyeliner on occasion. Dana hadn’t even known they were werewolves.
It would come out later that the boys had engineered that as well, getting themselves infected on purpose so that they could carry out their macabre plan.
She thought of them now, remembering their faces on the occasions that she’d passed them in the hallway. If only she could have stopped them. She would have given anything to bend the two of them to her will, to keep them from killing those people.
That night at the basketball game, they shifted into wolf form, and they took their first victims just as the home team scored a basket. Amidst the cheers and yells, the screams of the first dead were drowned out.
But it soon became clear to Dana, who was sitting at the top of the bleachers with her friend Marci, that something was wrong.
She saw a blur of fur and teeth leap across the bleachers, several rows down.
Before she could react, she realized it was a werewolf, and she saw it sink red-stained fangs into the neck of a freshman whose name she didn’t know.
Blood spurted.
Dana screamed. She knew about werewolves. She’d grown up seeing the PSAs on television, the ones with the toll-free, 1-800 number for the SF emblazoned on the screen.
If you witness any suspicious behavior, do not hesitate to call this number. Your quick action could save lives.
But she’d never seen one up close, feet away from her. And she’d never seen so much blood in her life.
She wished that she had been selfless in that moment. That she’d grabbed Marci and taken her friend with her. Or that she’d looked around for her mother, who was in the stands somewhere as well. Dana never even looked to see where her mother was.
Fear had wiped everything from Dana’s mind except self-preservation. She leaped to her feet and began scrambling down the bleachers. She didn’t care if she stepped on people, if she elbowed them in the face, if she pushed them out of the way.
She had one thought, and that was that she had to get to the door. She had to get out of there.
Other people on the bleachers moved too, but Dana was just a few steps ahead of them. She was one of the first people on the gym floor.
By now, the game had stopped as the players heard the screams.
The referee began blowing his whistle.
Dana paid it no mind.
She sprinted for the door.
She collided with it, pushing against it. It was one of those swinging doors, and it should have given under her weight.
But it didn’t.
She drove her shoulder into it.
Nothing.
She shrieked—the sound coming from her mouth throaty and desperate. She slammed the palms of her hands against the smooth, varnished wood of the door. She tried to think words, but she couldn’t.
Giving up on the door, she turned back to the gym.
It was mass chaos now. Others were behind her, running for the door.
There were bodies on the bleachers, throats torn out. Bodies strewn on the gym floor, blood and entrails soaking into the white jerseys that the team wore for home games.
The air was rent with screams.
She thought of her mother then, but she was too far away to do anything about it.
The metallic scent of blood mixed with the tang of sweat.
Was her mother one of those bodies? Dana couldn’t tell.
And she had other problems. A hoard of people was coming for her—coming for the door—and she knew in that second that she was going to be crushed.
She held up her hands in front of her body, signaling to the others to stop, or perhaps in some vain attempt to protect herself, she wasn’t sure which. Everything was happening so fast.
The world had turned upside down, and all she knew for certain was her terror.
A wolf bounded over the heads of the coming crowd.
It landed, gaping jaws closing around a woman’s shoulder.
Blood gushed.
Dana couldn’t breathe.
She was rooted to the spot, mouth wide in horror, too frightened to move.
The wolf was barely four feet away from her. It snapped the woman’s neck and flung her body away. The woman landed with a sickening thud—the sound of meat hitting a butcher’s counter. Her eyes gazed dully up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling.
Dana made a strangled noise in her throat.
The wolf seemed to hear, because its head snapped up.
Now Dana moved.
The people heading for the door had scattered now—they weren’t a stampeding mass anymore. Instead, they all ran in differing directions, their eyes wide, their expressions frenzied.
Dana ran too. Right into the mass of people, dodging them, veering to the left—and then to the right.
But the wolf got her anyway.
Its teeth dug into the flesh of her calf. The pain that shot through her was bright and excruciating.
She let out a mangled yell, kicking at the wolf with her good leg.
She connected.
It whimpered, releasing its jaws.
And then something grabbed her hand and tugged her.
Sideways.
Away from the wolf and into the alcove that led to the boys’ locker room.
She looked up and saw Cole’s face.
His nostrils flared. His jaw was tight. “I know a way out,” he said.
* * *
Cole Randall turned the disposable phone over in his hands, feeling for the catch to take off the back so he could take out the battery and remove the SIM card.
The phone vibrated in his hands.
He turned it over.
Hmm. Dana’s number. She was calling him back? That was a pleasant surprise. He put the phone to his ear. “Hello, beautiful, thought you were working.”
“It’s me, Randall.” The voice on the other end was male—growlingly pissed off.
It threw Cole for a second. He hadn’t been expecting that. But then he recognized the voice.
“Avery Brooks,” said C
ole. “Haven’t spoken to you since that time I got your own tranquilizer gun away from you and shot you with it.”
“Stop calling her,” said Avery.
“Was that embarrassing for you? I’d think that you might have felt a little bit stupid about it.”
“I mean it, you asshole. You’ve done enough as it is. You and Gray are done.”
Cole laughed. “Dana Gray and I will never be done. She’s mine.”
“I’m going to kill you, you know? I’m going to rip you apart.”
“Wouldn’t that be interesting,” said Cole. “Unfortunately, I think you and I will have to cut this conversation short. I’m sure you’ve got your pals at the SF trying to locate this phone. And, as I know you understand, I can’t very well let you do that.”
He ended the call, ripped the back off of the phone, and yanked the SIM card out.
Avery Brooks was calling him on Dana’s phone?
What was that all about?
Had Dana asked Avery to do that?
Why?
She and Brooks couldn’t be…
No.
Cole felt sick to his stomach.
That was disgusting.
Of course, before—when he and Dana had been mated—she’d been willing to try anything to get free of the bond. Avery had hinted to Cole that Dana and he were attempting to be intimate. While the wolf bond held, of course, Dana couldn’t be with another man. It physically revolted her.
But now that the bond was broken, nothing was stopping her.
Cole curled his hands into fists.
The thought of Dana with that… that idiotic boy scout made him want to retch.
She couldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
She belonged to Cole.
CHAPTER TWO
“Gray, get in here,” said Ursula King, the head of the tracker office at the northeast branch of the Sullivan Foundation. “Brooks, you too.”
Dana and Avery had been on their way to their new offices. Ursula was their old boss. Though she technically didn’t have jurisdiction over genetic werewolves, they still reported to her as their direct supervisor. Generally, of course, she didn’t have much of anything to say about what they were doing. She had her hands full with the tracker office. And she didn’t know the first thing about genetic werewolves.
“Everything okay, King?” asked Avery.
She ushered them into her office. “Depends on your definition of okay, I suppose.” Ursula shut the door behind them.
Dana took a seat in front of Ursula’s desk. “Is this about upper management again? Because I’m willing to meet with the higher-ups as many times as it takes.”
“No,” said Ursula, sitting down at her desk. She gestured for Avery to sit down as well.
He did. “So, what’s up?”
“Got a call from the southern branch,” said Ursula. “The facility in Virginia, the place that houses Chase Klebold and Adam White.”
“Does it have to do with Chase and Adam?” said Dana. That would be ironic, considering that she’d just been thinking about the two of them and the massacre.
Ursula nodded.
“They didn’t escape, did they?” said Avery. His tone of voice was defeated—someone who’s come to expect the worst of news and is resigned to it.
“No, nothing like that,” said Ursula. “They’re still locked up tight on opposite sides of the facility. But a few hours ago, both of them started banging on the doors to their cells and screaming Dana’s name. Independently, you understand. They don’t have any contact with the other.”
Dana’s brow furrowed. “My name?”
Ursula nodded.
“Well, Gray’s been all over the news,” said Avery. “They know who she is. They know she’s the only person to survive their massacre except for Cole Randall. They were looking for some attention. That’s all.”
Dana looked at Avery. “But they did it at the same time. And they don’t have contact with each other.”
Avery sighed. “We’re going to have to go down there, aren’t we?”
“They’re requesting that you do that,” said Ursula. “The southern branch called here right after it happened, asking to speak with Gray. I told them she wasn’t available. They said it might be best if you came to visit.”
“Damn it,” muttered Avery.
“No, it’s okay,” said Dana. “I actually have a lead for a werewolf pack in my hometown of Brockway. The southern branch is only a town over in Berryville. We could go down and see Adam and Chase, then swing up and follow up on my lead.”
“Great,” said Ursula. “Then I’ll let them know that you’re coming.”
Dana nodded. “We’ll go tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” said Avery.
Dana glared at him. “You know, you’re the one who volunteered to be my partner. You could have stayed in the tracking office.”
“I’d take you back, Brooks,” said Ursula, grinning. “You too, Gray, if you ever work this genetic pack stuff out of your system.”
Avery made a face. “You know it wouldn’t be the same without you, Gray.”
Dana smiled. “Then stop complaining.”
He rolled his eyes.
* * *
Dana dumped the precut onions and peppers into the skillet in her kitchen. She was making fajitas. Well, she was trying, anyway. She wasn’t the best at actually cooking things, but she was trying to be better. Everyone said that cooking for yourself was healthier. What Dana didn’t like about cooking was mostly the prep work. It took forever. That was why she’d been overjoyed to find these containers of already chopped veggies in the grocery store. It made everything easier.
She was trying to concentrate on making the fajitas and not on how weird it was that Adam and Chase had been yelling her name and pounding on the doors of their cells.
What did it mean? Why had they done that?
She did her best never to think of those guys, but it was strange that earlier today, she’d been thinking about them. And that they’d apparently been thinking about her.
Why?
She opened the refrigerator and got out the chicken—precut and cooked—the precut mushrooms, and the shredded cheese.
There was a knock on her door. She set down her food and opened the door.
“Hey,” said Avery. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking,” she said.
He eyed the food she’d set on the counter. “You’re heating stuff up is more like it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Like you could do better?”
“Good point,” he said.
She moved away from the door to let him in. “You want me to make enough for you?”
“What are you making?”
“Fajitas.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Sure.” He moved behind her and opened the refrigerator.
“Hey,” she said. “Can you ask?”
Avery closed the refrigerator. “Can I have a soda?”
She went back to the skillet of sizzling vegetables. “Say please.”
He opened the fridge again. “Whatever.”
She whirled, wooden spoon in hand. “Wrong word.”
He laughed, pulling out a can of soda. “You want a soda too?”
She pointed at him with the wooden spoon. “You’re in trouble, mister. You’re stealing my soda.”
“Look, if it bothers you that much, I’ll bring over a replacement can from my kitchen after dinner,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not about the soda. It’s about you being rude.”
“Seriously?”
She gave the onions and peppers a stir. “No, not seriously. I don’t care that you come over here and act like you live here.” Some of the vegetables on the bottom of the pan were getting browned. The ones on the top seemed raw still. Was that supposed to happen? She stirred the raw ones to the bottom and the cooked ones to the top. “It’s only that it’s a little confusing is all.”
“
Confusing?” Avery was out of the kitchen and in the living room. The two rooms were only separated with a breakfast bar. He collapsed on the couch.
“Yeah.” She dumped the mushrooms in with the onions and peppers. “You said that you didn’t want anything going on between us anymore.”
“Nothing’s going on right now, Gray.” He picked up the remote and switched on the TV.
She stirred in the mushrooms. “Well, why did you come over here at all?”
“What?” said Avery, switching channels.
She turned around and leaned over the breakfast bar. “Brooks, why did you stop by?”
He shrugged. “To hang out. I was going to suggest that we order food, but you were cooking.”
“Well, that’s just it. I thought we weren’t going to do that anymore.”
He switched off the TV. “You saying you want me to leave?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” She returned to the stove and stirred the vegetables again. “I’m not the one who didn’t want anything going on between us.”
Avery crossed the living room and lounged in the doorway to the kitchen. “Having dinner together doesn’t mean anything, you know.”
She glanced up at him. “Well, when people break up, Brooks—”
“Who said we broke up? In order to break up, you have to be together, and we have never been together.”
She sighed. “I just mean that if we aren’t going to be… intimate anymore, then maybe it would be nice to have some space. Because I already see you all day at work, and then when you show up like this, it makes it harder.”
“Harder?”
“Yeah. You’re relaxed and joking with me. It confuses me.”
“Like how does it confuse you?”
“It confuses me, because it makes it seem like you like me.”
“I do like you. We’ve been partners and friends for years, Gray.”
She tossed the vegetables, frustrated. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“So, what are you saying? I show up to your apartment, and the minute you see me you want to jump my bones?”
She sighed. “I’m saying that when you’re here, it’s easy to want to slide into old habits. That’s all. And since you’re so dead set on not wanting to be with me, then I don’t see why you’d make it harder on both of us.”
Bad Moon Rising (Cole and Dana) Page 2