Since she couldn’t sleep, she decided she might as well call Hollis. She’d promised Ursula she would, after all.
She went into her living room, got out her phone, and stared at it, her heart pounding. She really hadn’t talked to Hollis in quite a while. What would he say? Would he think she was calling because she wanted to rekindle their romance? Not that her relationship with Hollis had been very romantic exactly.
She and Hollis had met when he was covering a story about a rogue. He’d pestered her until she went out with him. He was nice enough. Intelligent. Not prejudiced against wolves. Fairly handsome.
But he wasn’t infected, like she was. The lupine virus could be transferred sexually sometimes. That meant that having sex with someone who wasn’t infected posed issues.
Condoms were supposed to be pretty good at protecting the uninfected, but nothing was one hundred percent.
For his part, Hollis had seemed much less worried about it than she was. But it had worried Dana. The result was that they’d dated for over six months but only actually had intercourse a handful of times. And sex itself had become a topic of argument and anger, not anything fun or... sexy.
The relationship had been too much work. Overall, Dana was relieved to be free of it. But it wasn’t because she didn’t like Hollis. He was a good guy.
Trying to remind herself of that, Dana clutched her phone and dialed him. She put the phone to her ear, listening to it ring. Maybe he wouldn’t pick up.
But he did. “Dana?” He was surprised and excited.
“Hi, Hollis.”
“How are you? I saw that you were back at work. You were on the news about that bar up in Springwater.”
“I’m... I’m okay. Actually, I wasn’t calling just to catch up.”
“Oh?”
“I wanted to, um, offer you a story.”
Hollis was quiet for a minute. She could picture him, the face he made when he was disappointed. “So, this is all business, huh?”
“I...” This was exactly why she didn’t want to make this phone call. “Things happened to me, Hollis. I’m not the same. I can’t...”
He waited for her to finish, but she didn’t know how to describe it. “You can’t what?”
“Be with anyone,” she said. “Anyone at all.” Except possibly the madman that had tried to kill her. He was the one she thought about when it was dark. Imagining his touch made her tingle, made her aroused. That was the way things were. And she wasn’t going to tell Hollis that.
“Jesus, Dana,” said Hollis. “What did that asshole do to you?”
She didn’t say anything.
“What’s the story?” His tone had changed. He was brusque now, businesslike.
“Me, I guess,” said Dana. “King said she wanted a hero piece. She wants to counter the bad press the SF is getting.”
“Great,” said Hollis, “so you’re asking me for a PR story. You know I can’t promise anything like that, don’t you? That’s not the kind of writer I am. I write about things the way I see them, not the way someone else wants me to.”
“You don’t see me as a hero?” She smiled wryly.
“I don’t know, Dana. I don’t know what happened to you.”
“Well, agree to do the story, and I’ll tell you,” she said. As best she could, anyway. There were some things that she might have to keep to herself.
“Can I interview Randall?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll ask King.”
“Get me Randall, and you’ve got a deal,” he said.
“I’ll ask.”
“What I really want is for you to have dinner with me.”
“Hollis, I can’t.”
“Can’t I interview you over dinner?”
She rested her head against the back of the couch. “Don’t expect anything from me.”
“That sounds like a yes.”
She sighed. That was Hollis for you. Persistent.
* * *
Dana felt like there was a coiled spring inside her gut, ready to let go at any second. Her breath was shallow, her pulse pounding. She stood at the elevator, waiting for Avery. He would be meeting her here at any minute, and they would go down to see Cole together.
Cole.
Demon. Murderer. Madman. Torturer.
She hadn’t seen him since the night she’d escaped. When she’d gotten him locked up. She’d been confused that night. Things had happened between them. Disgusting things. Disturbing things. Savage, perverse things.
The elevator was a flat metal color. There were scratches on its surface. She took it every day to get from her apartment up to the top floor, where the tracker office was. Sometimes it lurched and squeaked when it moved. She was anxious to take it down now. To Cole.
Where the heck was Avery? Dana checked her watch. He should have been there already. Two minutes ago.
Avery was two minutes late.
That wasn’t so much, not really. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths.
It was warm inside the hallway outside the elevator. The air conditioning wasn’t on. It was only April, and it probably wasn’t necessary yet, but it was one of those freakishly warm spring days, and Dana could feel a little bit of sweat slick under her arms.
She’d put on deodorant, hadn’t she?
Want to smell nice for Cole? taunted a voice in her head.
She grimaced. So what if she did?
But it was pathetic that she was standing here waiting, the feelings bubbling up in her more like a girl waiting for her prom date than a woman going to grimly confront her captor and would-be murderer.
He couldn’t kill me. Something stopped him.
What did it matter? He’d killed other people, hadn’t he? Lots of other people. But Dana was special to him. They shared something that no one else shared. A bond that no one could understand. While she’d been locked in that basement, chained up, Dana had changed. Cole was the only one who’d been there. The only one who understood.
Chantal said it was perfectly natural to feel that way. Logical, even.
Dana knew it wasn’t. It was twisted and disgusting. She rolled her shoulders, hoping that the deodorant would overpower the smell of her sweat. Telling herself she shouldn’t care what Cole thought. She shouldn’t want to impress him. She should hate him.
“Gray.” It was Avery, walking down the hallway. He was wearing an old t-shirt and ratty jeans.
Dana had changed her outfit three times, each time finding fault with it. She wanted to find the perfect thing to wear. She wanted to look casual, as if she hadn’t put any thought into what she was wearing. But she didn’t want to look sloppy. Just... accidentally beautiful. That was tough to pull off, and she didn’t think she’d quite found the right balance. But her clingy green blouse and deep blue jeans were the best she’d been able to come up with. She’d put on makeup too but had washed it off at the last minute. It was too strange to be putting makeup on for Cole Randall.
“Hi Brooks,” she said. “Are you ready?”
He hit the button on the elevator and swiped his access badge when prompted. Without a badge, they couldn’t access the maximum security floor. “Anxious to get this over with?”
She nodded. Let him think that.
Inside the elevator, it smelled faintly of some kind of take-out food. Maybe Chinese. Dana couldn’t be sure. Staff often went out to get food and brought it back. There weren’t a lot of culinary-minded workers at the SF. The elevator doors closed.
Dana’s stomach clenched. She tried to tell herself it was dread. She knew it was breathless anticipation.
“You look nervous,” said Avery.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“You know, we don’t have to do this,” he said. “If you don’t want to see that guy, we can tell him to go fuck himself.”
“It’s okay, Brooks.” She tried to smile. The elevator settled on the bottom floor. The doors slid open. Dana gazed out at the hallway of the ma
ximum security floor, which stretched out almost infinitely. The walls were painted white. The doors were white too. It looked sterile, like a hospital or a morgue.
She squared her shoulders and stepped out of the elevator, Avery right behind her.
“You guys were coming to see Randall, right?” asked the guy working the desk outside the elevator. He had a mole on his chin. A hair was growing out of it. “Brooks and Gray? You got your badges?”
Dana showed hers. Avery too.
The guy got up. “We got him in one of the conference rooms. He’s waiting for you. Follow me.”
The guard wore a uniform—brown pants and a brown, collared shirt. The pants were too tight. As she walked behind him, Dana noticed how the waist cut painfully into his flesh.
Without warning, the wolf surged up in her. Flesh, it whispered. Rip. Tear. Eat.
In horror, Dana realized that claws were already pushing out of her fingertips.
She shoved the wolf down, forced the claws to retract into her body. She had to keep it together. Seeing Cole was no reason to lose control.
Shift for me, Dana.
She shuddered, reaching inside her shirt to finger the scar on her belly. Willing the wolf down.
The guard stopped in front of a white door. “He’s in here. You have any problems with him, you can bang on the door. There’s a guard who walks this hallway, and he’ll hear you. Also, there’s a panic button on the wall that you can hit if you need it. It’ll set off an alarm at my desk.”
Dana nodded. “Thanks.” She reached for the door.
“You think we’ll need a panic button?” asked Avery.
The guard shrugged. “He can be unpredictable.”
CHAPTER FOUR
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 local basketball game. The two wolves had been students at her school, unpopular strange boys who she’d never associated with. They’d planned the entire thing out.
Dana had been bitten. And she wouldn’t have gotten free if it hadn’t been for Cole Randall, who’d managed to find an open door in the boys’ locker room. Without Cole, she would have died.
It was only the second time she’d ever spoken to him. They sat in the hospital, wrapped in blankets, both shocked and terrified, waiting for the team from the Sullivan Foundation to come and take them away. The hospital staff wouldn’t treat their wounds for fear of contracting the lupine virus.
Cole held her hand.
She was shaking, and her teeth were chattering, but she wasn’t cold. Still, she hugged the blanket tighter with the hand that wasn’t holding Cole’s. “We’re going to be werewolves.”
“We’re going to be alive,” he said.
She looked into his eyes, his dark brown eyes. It was the first time she’d ever noticed what color they were. “Thank you for saving me.”
He turned away. “I couldn’t save anyone else, though.”
“I’m glad we’re alive,” she said. She squeezed his hand.
His gaze met hers again. “Me too.”
* * *
Cole was sitting at a white table inside a white room. He was wearing the maximum security uniform—a navy blue jumpsuit. He was clean-shaven. His dark hair was cropped very short. He was still wearing his glasses.
Why did he wear those things? They had to be an affectation. Dana had never met a wolf who didn’t have twenty-twenty vision.
He looked up at her when she entered the room. He smiled.
Her knees turned to jelly. She had to place her hand against the wall for support.
“Hello, Dana,” he said.
She didn’t answer. She stood rooted in place, gazing into his eyes. The moment seemed to go on and on.
Then she felt Avery’s hand on her shoulder. “You all right, Gray?”
She turned to him, managing to move out of the doorway so that Avery could come into the room behind her. “Fine.”
Avery moved around her, placed himself between her and Cole. She couldn’t see Cole anymore.
“I only want to see Dana.”
Dana peered around Avery, mostly to make sure Cole was actually real. He was. He was there. They were in the same room. Everything felt slower. Her racing pulse quieted. She could breathe easier. Cole’s presence was calming. For the first time in six months, she felt okay again. He was close.
“You’ll have to leave,” said Cole.
Avery smirked. “Too bad. I’m staying. I won’t let her be alone with you.”
“This is my partner, Avery Brooks,” said Dana. She moved smoothly across the room and took a seat opposite Cole. “He’s working these cases with me. Obviously, he’s interested in what you have to say.”
Cole’s hands were resting on the tabletop. They were handcuffed together. His feet were probably shackled too. She had an urge to reach out for him, to interlace his fingers with her own. She put her hands in her lap instead.
“I specifically said I’d only talk to you,” Cole said, looking deeply into her eyes again.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Avery sat down next to her. “Like I said, I’m not leaving. So you either talk, or she and I both go away.” He glared at Cole.
Cole glanced at Avery and then turned his attention back to Dana. “Why’d you wash off your makeup?”
God. He could tell that? Heat was rushing to her face. She was blushing.
Avery gave her a funny look.
She looked at Cole instead, locked into his dark eyes. She felt like he was burrowing inside her. Her clothes felt tight. Her skin felt damp.
“I won’t say anything until he leaves,” said Cole.
Dana couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Without looking away, she whispered, “Brooks, why don’t you wait outside the door for me? I’ll knock if I need you.”
“No way,” said Avery. He leaned across the table, putting himself in her view, breaking her eye contact with Cole. “I’m staying.”
Cole laughed, a dark throaty sound. “Too bad. I was looking forward to talking to you. I missed you, Dana.”
The response was on the tip of her tongue, begging to be said, but she didn’t dare let it out. I missed you too.
She turned to Avery. “Ten minutes, okay? Give me ten minutes with him.”
“I don’t like it, Gray.”
“Please.” And she was afraid he could hear the raw desperation in her voice.
Avery folded his arms over his chest. He stood up. “Ten minutes. I’m coming after you in ten minutes.” He looked at Cole. “I’ll be right outside the door.”
“Noted,” said Cole, his lips curving into a satisfied smile.
Avery walked across the room. He hesitated at the door. “Ten minutes.”
Dana nodded.
Then the door shut, and they were alone.
Her hands lurched off her lap, across the table. And then she was touching him. His fingers were warm.
“You ran from me, beautiful,” he said, caressing her knuckles.
“You were trying to kill me.”
“No.” His gaze was intense. “Not anymore. Not after what happened. You and I are connected now, don’t you see?”
She snatched her hands back. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She wasn’t connected to him. She couldn’t be.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Dana. I think about you when I wake up. I think about you before I go to sleep. I—”
“Stop.” She didn’t need to hear this. She needed to get the topic back to the reason she came. She needed to take control here. That was what Cole always robbed her of. Control. If she could direct the conversation, maybe she could stay on top of her feelings—her very strange, very disturbing feelings. She squared her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath. “So, what did you want to say about the rogues? How could you help?”
“Don’t tell me you aren’t thinkin
g about me too. I know—”
“The rogues.”
He sighed. “They’re connected. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. But maybe you weren’t looking.”
“Connected? They live in different states. They have nothing in common.”
He shook his head. “I know who they are.”
“Say you do. What does it matter? They’re going to be locked up for doing it on purpose no matter what.”
“Are you sure they did it on purpose?”
“They admitted that.”
“According to the news reports I saw, they admitted only that they knew how to control their wolves on a full moon.”
Dana sat back in her chair. “If they could control themselves, and they didn’t control themselves, then it means they did it on purpose.”
Cole raised his eyebrows. “Does it?”
“Don’t play games with me. You either know something, or you don’t.”
Cole’s voice dropped several octaves. “I needed to see you. I thought maybe you needed to see me too.”
She felt the words like lightning, coursing through her, making her feel weak, but also lit up, awake. She wished she was touching him again. She wished the table wasn’t between them. She wished there was nothing between them. Nothing at all.
Yes, I needed to see you. Yes, all I need is to see you. I need you, Cole. I need you. What have you done to me?
She held his gaze, and she was sure he could see her response written on her face. He drew in a long, slow breath, like he was savoring her, tasting her.
She couldn’t let this go on. She was supposed to be in control. Even talking about work, only work, he’d wormed his way inside, taken over. She had to stop it.
She got out of the chair. “So you’ve got nothing, in other words. You’re wasting my time.” Her voice was disdainful. Good.
Don’t notice how tightly you have me wrapped around your finger, Cole. Please, think I hate you. Believe I despise you.
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