Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels Read Free Page A

waiting outside. They almost all had their arms folded over their chests. The ones who weren’t so outwardly hostile still looked angry.
    “Took you long enough in there,” spoke up a man in a gray suit, his badge hanging around his neck.
    “No survivors,” said Avery, lifting his chin.
    Dana sighed. Avery had a chip on his shoulder when it came to cops, and that meant she was going to have to play nice and try to smooth things over. She thrust herself in between Avery and the suit, plastering a huge smile on her face. “Hi there, sir, I’m Dana Gray. What’s your name?” She offered her hand.
    The suit just stared at it. “Detective Sutton. You two done contaminating our crime scene? You sure this was a wolf?”
    Cops didn’t like the SF. No one liked the SF, not the media, the school system, or the government. Political candidates routinely ran campaigns claiming they’d change laws and get the furs all executed, no questions asked. Thus far, no one had been successful, maybe because deep down people recognized that werewolves were just sick people that needed treatment, not monsters. Dana hoped that anyway. More likely, the SF stayed around because people were scared, and werewolves were better at stopping other werewolves than normal humans.
    “We’ve picked up a scent,” said Dana. “We should have the rogue in custody within the hour.”
    “As long as your people haven’t contaminated our trail,” said Avery over Dana’s shoulder. He let his voice get deep and gravelly, almost an animal growl.
    Dana bit down on the inside of her cheek. Why did Avery have to do that? Didn’t he realize that acting aggressive only served to feed the fear that all werewolves were nothing more than dangerous beasts? “The scene’s all yours, Detective Sutton. And I must say, I’m very sorry for your community’s loss. I know how devastating something like this can be.”
    Sutton wasn’t listening to her anymore. He was leading his army of cops into the bar. Truthfully, they did have the worst of the job. They’d have to transport these bodies to the morgue, call their families, and clean up. They wouldn’t even have the ability to say that they were looking for the killer and that he’d be punished. Most times, rogue werewolves were rehabilitated. After their time in the SF, they got to go free and return to their lives.
    Dana could see why the victims thought it wasn’t fair. But she also knew that it wasn’t right to put someone in jail for a crime he or she never meant to commit and, often, couldn’t even remember.
    As the cops disappeared inside, Dana could make out a few news vans on the periphery. Great. Reporters.
    A woman with blonde hair snapped her fingers at her cameraman and sprinted toward Dana at top speed. Margaret Lansky. What was she doing all the way out here in bumfuck?
    “Dana!” yelled Margaret. “I wondered if we could get a few words.”
    Dana used to be the one who played nice with reporters as well as cops, but after what had happened with Cole, she’d been plastered on front pages and television screens for weeks. The woman who’d brought down the werewolf serial killer. No matter what Avery said, Cole was connected to her life permanently.
    “We’re following a trail,” said Dana. “Can’t chat or the scent will get cold.” She shot a look at Avery. “Get the car.”
    He nodded and trotted off to the parking lot.
    Margaret was close. “How does it feel to be back on the job? What can you tell us about being Cole Randall’s prisoner?”
    A shudder ran through Dana, making her feel cold all over.
    “Do you think being terrorized by a madman has impacted your performance on the job?” Now Margaret was close enough to put a microphone in her face.
    It enraged Dana. She felt the wolf again, hot and excited at the base of her spine, struggling. Dana pictured letting her beast out, digging sharp claws into Margaret’s pretty face, staining her blonde hair bright