Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels (12 page)

He lowered his hands, and they twisted in front of him, wolf claws ripping out of his fingertips, fur bursting out. He advanced on her.

He traced the underside of her breast with one claw. “I’m going to just do it. I’m going to kill you. I can. If I want to, I can. I
will
.”

His claw slashed across her belly.

She screamed. Blood welled up. It gushed out of her. She looked down at the blood, shaking, watching it pour down over her legs onto the floor.

Cole’s mouth on her ear, lips against her skin. “Deep inside you. Deeper inside than any man’s ever been.”

She made a strangled half-sob. God. When she’d wanted it over before, she hadn’t meant it. Not really. She didn’t want to die.

His claws barely brushed her neck. “One more,” said Cole. “I’ll tear out your throat, and it will be done. I can do it.”

He didn’t.

She was still bleeding. The deep wound on her stomach screamed at her, the pain coming in pulsing waves, each seeming to bring more sticky, red blood.

“I can do it,” Cole said again.

“Don’t,” she said. She didn’t want to die. She knew it now. She wasn’t above begging for her life. “Don’t kill me, Cole. Please, don’t.”

He moved, looked into her eyes, his expression anguished. “Fuck.”

“Please Cole,” she said.

“Fuck,” he said again. Then he picked up the blanket from the floor and pressed it against the wound on her stomach.

* * *

Dana banged on Avery’s hotel room door. “Brooks! It’s after nine.”

“Go away Gray,” called a voice from within.

She pounded on the door again. “Wake up. It’s morning.”

She heard the sound of shuffling from inside, and then Avery pulled the door open a crack, squinting at the brightness. Inside his room, it was a dark cave. He’d obviously just gotten out of bed. He wasn’t wearing anything except boxers and his hair was sticking up in the back. “You’re a bitch from hell,” he muttered.

“We agreed to be up by nine,” she said.

He shook his head. “You mean you told me to get up by nine and didn’t listen when I said it was too early.”

She sighed.

“What’s the rush?” he asked. “We aren’t going to talk to the twins until noon.”

“I thought you wanted to get breakfast,” she said. “You wouldn’t shut up about that diner we passed.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Right. Well, give me a half hour.”

“A half hour? Brooks, I’m starving.”

“Go without me then.” He shut the door.

She knocked again. “Does that mean you’re getting in the shower?”

“Go away!”

She glared at the door.

Another door opened, further down. “Excuse me, you think you can keep it down?”

She turned to apologize but recognized the man who was speaking. “Hollis?”

Hollis Moore laughed. “Hey, Dana. I’d recognize your shrill morning yell anywhere. What the hell are you doing here?”

She walked over to him. “My job. Are you stalking me or something? Chomping at the bit for that interview?”

He was still grinning. She’d forgotten how infectious his dimples were, or how charming his curly mop of hair was. “I’m covering the Beverly Martin incident. And if you’re still here, that means there’s more to it than the SF’s letting on.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, don’t start.”

“I do want to interview you, though,” he said. “I just got my clearance to see Cole Randall. Thank you very much.”

“It’s for my boss,” she said. “I’m not actually excited to be sharing information about the worst thing that ever happened to me with the entire world.”

“Not even if you’re going to be a hero?”

“You didn’t promise that.”

“You’re right, I didn’t.” He closed his hotel room door. “So, from what I hear you want to go to breakfast. Coincidentally, I was heading out to that diner I think you were talking about. We should share a table, don’t you think?”

She wasn’t sure. She’d just woken up, and Hollis was sometimes a lot to take. He was very good at lulling her into a sense of complacency—making her feel very comfortable. That was one of the reasons he was a good reporter. But because of that, she always had to be on her guard around him. Anything that slipped ended up in print. Well, actually not print, because Hollis worked for an online newspaper, but it was the same thing in the end. “I don’t know. It’s a little early to be grilled by a journalist.”

He held up his hands. “No questions. No grilling. Unless they have a grill at the diner.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Dana. We’ll just eat. Get caught up. I missed you.”

She sighed. “All right. Fine. But no questions.”

He spread his hands. “Would I lie to you?”

Yes. He definitely would.

* * *

Hollis winked at the hostess at the diner. “What about that booth over there? The one in the corner?”

“You want to sit there? We usually keep it for large parties. It seats six.” The girl looked barely twenty. She cast a nervous glance at the manager, who was only a few feet away, talking with one of the servers.

Hollis flashed her one of his dazzling grins. “If he gives you any trouble, tell him I was an ass about it. What do you say? Can we sit there?”

The hostess shrugged, blushing a little under his gaze, and tucked two menus under her arm. “This way.”

Dana followed them to the corner booth, shaking her head. That was Hollis for you. He always got what he wanted, and he somehow managed to make you feel like you were in on a scheme with him. He was infectious but irritating.

Once they were seated, he began paging through the menu. “So, I’m guessing that my chances are slim to none that you’ll talk about Cole Randall in this diner.”

“You’re guessing right.” She opened the menu herself. This was one of those Greek diners, the kind with a ten-page menu. Too many options. She found the breakfast section, which loudly proclaimed, “We serve breakfast all day!” She flipped through it. Only two pages. That wasn’t that bad.

“Yeah, I figured. But I’m dying of curiosity here. What about this moratorium on dating? Think you can explain to me why you can’t be with anyone at all? Like a bullet point version?”

“I’m trying to look at the menu.” She glared at it.

“You should have that,” he said, pointing to a mushroom and swiss omelet, number thirty-four on the menu. “And then I’ll get pancakes, and we can split them both, so we each get half.”

See? He was doing it again. Even ordering food was a tag-team event for Hollis. Anything to make her feel like they were working together. “I want meat.”

He grinned at her. “Right. To feed your wolf, yeah?” Hollis was a vegetarian, but he found her meat-eating tendencies intriguing, since he attributed them to the fact she was a werewolf.

She sighed. “Can you shut up for three seconds?”

“Sorry,” he said. “Did being tortured by a madman put you in a perpetually bad mood?”

“Hollis!”

He chuckled to himself, clearly enjoying the fact he’d gotten her riled up. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”

For about thirty blissful seconds, she was able to peruse the menu without interruption. She narrowed it down to corned beef hash or steak and eggs.

“I’m going to have French toast,” he said.

She glared at him. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“What? That was way longer than three seconds.” He reached across the table and brushed her hand with his. “I can’t help it. I’m excited to see you.”

She pulled her hand away. “This isn’t a date, you know.”

“Right,” he said. “Because you can’t be with anyone at all.” He closed his menu. “Is that actually just your way of saying, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Like, were you planning on breaking up with me anyway? You’ve barely spoken to me in six months, but last I checked, you never officially ended things either.”

“Well, consider them officially ended, then.”

He toyed with his silverware. “You’re, um, really not good with letting people down easy are you?”

And because she’d dated him, shared his bed, and eaten breakfast with him before lots of times, she could tell there was actual hurt in his voice. “Sorry.”

The waitress came over to their table and took their order. Hollis didn’t even bother to flirt with her. Dana really
had
upset him.

Once the waitress was gone, Dana said, “Look, it’s not like we were really a serious couple, anyway. I mean, there were all kinds of issues.”

“There was one issue,” he said. “And it was your issue, not mine. I wasn’t worried about catching the lupine virus. It was only you. As for being serious...” He shrugged. “Seriousness is not my strong suit.”

Dana wished she still had the menu to fiddle with, but the waitress had taken them. “I guess I should have called you or something. Explained things.”

“I wanted to be there for you,” said Hollis. “I don’t know why you shut me out.”

“You wanted to write about me,” she said. “You wanted an inside scoop.”

“Well, maybe,” he said. “But I wanted to be there for you more.”

She wanted to strangle him.

He grinned at her, dimples popping out again. “Hey, it’s the past. You’re single, right? I’d say I still have a chance.”

She focused on the table. “No.”

“Which brings me back to my first question. Why can’t you be with anyone?”

She cocked her head. “You asking that question as my ex-boyfriend or as the reporter who’s writing about my being captured by Cole Randall?”

“I can’t be both?” He laughed. “You’re asking if it’s on the record, right? And the answer is no. We’re not having an interview. We’re having breakfast. I won’t print what you say.”

She leaned back in the booth. “I’m fucked in the head. He really screwed me up.”

The smile faded from his face. “Like how?”

She shook her head. How was she going to give Hollis this interview? She knew he claimed he wasn’t interviewing her now, and maybe her exact words would never get printed, but Hollis never forgot anything he heard. And there were some things she simply couldn’t make public. How did she make sure he got the message to back off without giving too much away? “It’s PTSD, Hollis. Google it.”

“Post traumatic stress disorder does not keep people from being in relationships,” said Hollis.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said.

“Fine,” he said. “Then how about going on the record and giving me a quote on Beverly Martin. Why are you here?”

Jesus Christ, he was giving her a headache. “I can’t talk about that.”

“Why not? Maybe I could help. I got some theories. Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” His boyish grin was back on his face.

Despite herself, she smiled back. It was really hard to be mad at Hollis. He was too adorable, like some giant puppy that kept making messes on the carpet but you could never quite get angry with. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“You think she did it on purpose?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you?”

He shrugged. “It would make sense. She knows how to stop it, so she must have done it on purpose. On the other hand, it wouldn’t make any sense at all. She knows all about the SF. She knows what will happen to her if she does it. And she’s got quite a bit to lose. A family. A house. Seems weird to me.”

She made a noncommittal noise.

“Come on,” he said. “You’re not going to give me anything?”

“Nope.”

“I heard your partner say you were going to interview her twins. Her husband won’t even let me in the front door. How ‘bout you let me tag along?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay,” he said. “Then let me interview you about Cole Randall tonight. You still going to be in town?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “We might go back to Pennsylvania today. I guess it depends on what we find out.”

“Call me?”

“Okay.”

“I knew I’d eventually get you to agree to something if I asked enough questions.” Dimples again.

Dana sighed.

* * *

“Are you guys werewolves?” asked Maggie, one of Beverly Martin’s twins.

“Our dad said that everyone in the Sullivan Foundation is one,” said Madeleine. She looked exactly like her sister. Dana was only keeping them straight because they hadn’t moved from the couch where she’d been introduced to them. Both girls sat up straight, enthusiasm all over their faces.

“Yes,” said Avery. “That is true. Everyone who works for the SF is a werewolf, so we are.”

“Cool!” said Maggie. “Our mom is a werewolf. She says she hopes that we will be too.”

“She does?” said Dana. That was a little odd. She didn’t really know anyone who actually
liked
being a werewolf. Well, except Cole, that is.

Maggie nodded. “Yup.”