Dark & Dangerous: A Collection of Paranormal Treats

by Julie Kenner

  “I had my suspicions about exactly that. The silver bullet angle, you know. But I couldn’t find any other connection, until now with the possible club thing. You werewo—er, shifters, are a pretty closemouthed bunch.”

  “Unless need or circumstances demand otherwise.”

  He saw her think, start to ask something. Then, evidently remembering what he’d said about separating the personal from the professional, she closed her mouth.

  “Hunting shifters. Any idea why?” she drawled.

  “That’s what we need to find out. And I think it would be best if we started with trying to locate this secret society that Jason joined.”

  Amanda nodded, glancing at her watch. “It’s after twelve. We’ve got a big meeting in the morning at eight.”

  He kept his expression neutral. “Up to you.”

  “We can’t skip the meeting. It’s required. All the team has to be there.”

  He didn’t comment. Just waited.

  She sighed. “Let’s go to Dallas,” she said. “If we finish up by the time the bars close at two and head back, we’ll still have time to grab a few hours’ sleep. If we’re too tired, we can always take a nap after work before we head back out for the night.”

  Surprisingly, he sort of liked the way she said we. Like they were partners. Which, in a way they were.

  Deep Ellum reminded him of the Village in NYC. Funky and eclectic, the place pulsed with late-night vibrancy. Yet, though they wandered from bar to bar, Amanda saw no one familiar. Nick, on the other hand, recognized many of his kind mingling among the crowded bars. Their scent, even over the myriad aromas that filled the air, announced them as Pack. But whether or not they knew Jason, he had no way of knowing. He’d have to pull them aside and question them, one by one.

  Once more he scanned the packed bar. “No one here looks familiar to you?”

  “No. Maybe I’m just tired.” Frustration echoed in her voice.

  “Let’s go back and get some rest. We can come back tomorrow night.”

  “Works for me.” As one, they turned and headed for the parking lot.

  “I want to do some more checking with Jason’s buddies after the meeting. Make phone calls, set up some face-to-face meetings.”

  Amanda shot him a look. “Maybe our original plan needs rethinking. Maybe I should make the calls. Jason’s friends are more likely to talk to me.”

  “Not if they’re shifters.” Though he hated to bring up the subject again, it had to be dealt with.

  “So? I was Jason’s girlfriend.”

  “Was.” He put it as gently as he could. “I think most of Jason’s friends know you’d broken up. Chet knew.”

  As they climbed back in the SUV, her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He felt an impulse to massage her, to see if he could rub out the strained tiredness.

  Of course he shook that impulse off. He must be more exhausted than he’d realized.

  On the drive back to Fort Worth, neither spoke. Amanda changed the channel and turned up the radio. She’d chosen a classic rock station, playing Lynyrd Skynard. Evidently she didn’t like classical music.

  They stopped at the hotel to drop him off and he watched from the lobby as she drove off. After riding the elevator to his floor, Nick carefully removed a slip of paper from his pocket. While he’d been talking to Chet, the other shifter who’d been playing pool earlier had handed it to him. There was a phone number, nothing more.

  Nick hadn’t wanted to call the guy until he gauged Amanda’s reaction to shifters—after all, she’d broken up with his cousin after learning the truth. He still couldn’t fathom her casual discussion. It had to have been an act.

  As soon as he turned the light on in his room, he dialed the number.

  Voice mail picked up. No name, nothing but a simple message asking the caller to leave name and number. Without hesitation, Nick gave his cell phone number.

  The clock on the nightstand blinked luminous green—3:33 a.m. If he was lucky he could get almost four hours of sleep.

  Undressing, he thought of Amanda, wondering if she were doing the same. He wondered what she slept in, grinning as he allowed himself to picture a skimpy teddy of black lace and little else. Then, as his body stirred at the thought, he shook his head. No doubt practical Amanda slept in an oversized T-shirt and panties.

  But even that seemed sexy, on her. He groaned out loud, before making quick work of brushing his teeth and yanking back the covers. Praying the hotel clock radio’s alarm worked, he set it to wake him at seven-thirty and crawled beneath the sheets.

  Thoughts of Amanda, her nipples showing through a thin, white T-shirt, refused to go away. He went from semiaroused to hard instantly. Damn. He glanced at the clock again. A cold shower was not an option.

  Tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, he forced himself to relax, practicing some of the relaxation techniques he’d learned over the years.

  Eventually, he must have drifted off.

  Only to be woken what seemed like seconds later by the shrill tone of his cell phone ringing.

  Disoriented, he reached blindly for the blasted thing. “Hello,” he growled, his tone a clear warning that whoever had called him at 5:00 a.m. had better have a damn good reason.

  “I was returning your call.” Unapologetic, the young male voice was unfamiliar. “Mike Andrews.”

  “You were a friend of Jason’s?”

  “Yeah. Jason and I hung out. You’re his cousin, right?”

  To cut through more preliminary small talk, Nick identified himself by Pack. “Leaning Tree, New York Pack. You?” Packs were as sharp an identifier to a shifter as countries were to humans.

  Silence. Nick could have sworn he felt nervousness radiating through the phone lines. What the hell? All he’d asked was Mike’s Pack. This was a common form of greeting among their kind.

  Finally, the younger man spoke. “That’s what I need to talk to you about. Jason and I, we joined the same Pack. A new one. Secret, at least for now.”

  The secret organization was a Pack? Not possible. Setting up a Pack in a new town was simple. One merely contacted the state council of shifters and registered. There was no reason to keep it secret.

  Plus, Jason had also been a member of the Leaning Tree Pack. He could understand if his cousin had joined the Fort Worth Pack as a matter of courtesy, though his birth Pack would always hold precedence. But some secret Pack? Why would Jason do such a thing?

  Still, Nick held his tongue, waiting to hear what his caller said next.

  “We’re worried, all of us. Whoever is killing shifters is targeting our new Pack.”

  “Explain ‘new Pack.’ You’re not talking about the Fort Worth Pack or the Dallas-Forth Worth Council?”

  “No. Kenyon—that’s our leader—believes we shouldn’t have to hide anymore. We’re working on a plan to make humans aware of our existence and learn to accept us so we can coexist.”

  With his free hand, Nick rubbed his eyes. This was the oldest debate in the history of the Pack. It had been tried once several centuries ago, with disastrous results.

  He’d bet Kenyon was targeting young kids, like Jason and Mike. Kids who apparently hadn’t studied their Pack history. What Kenyon wanted to do would never work.

  Humans would always fear their kind. Sure, there were exceptions, like Carson, the human husband of Brenna, Leaning Tree’s librarian. Or the wife of Nick’s friend Alex, Lyssa. But humans who could accept shifters were few and far between. Not even Amanda, whose job required her to see things that would repulse most humans, had been able to handle it when Jason had shifted.

  Mike had fallen silent.

  “Are you telling me all the victims of this serial killer were members of your new Pack?”

  “Yes. And there are rumors that they all wanted out.”

  Motive. Despite his racing pulse, Nick kept his tone light. “Where can I find Kenyon?”

  Mike gave a nervous laugh. “I’ll need to talk to him first, to see
if he’s okay with meeting you.”

  The words “obstructing justice” hovered on the tip of his tongue, but Nick bit them back. He’d learned long ago that he’d get more if he had cooperating witnesses, rather than hostile ones. “Do that and get back to me.”

  “I will. Oh, and a word of caution…”

  “Go on.”

  “The pretty lady you were with tonight? Tell her to back off. There are some who blame her for Jason’s death.”

  The only killing sanctioned among their kind was blood vengeance. If someone truly believed Amanda responsible, her life could be in serious peril. Dangerous territory.

  “They’d have to prove it first.”

  “I’ve heard there’s a few claiming to have proof. If that’s true, she’s as good as dead.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE NEXT MORNING Amanda watched with bleary eyes as Nick strolled into the conference room five minutes before eight. He looked none the worse for their late night, his crisp, professional appearance in direct contrast to how she felt, and probably looked.

  He snagged the empty chair next to her. The other cops seated around the long table stopped talking to watch.

  “Morning.” She inclined her head in a cool nod.

  “Yeah. Look, I need to talk to you—”

  “Good morning, team.” Gordy’s hearty voice made Amanda wince.

  “Later,” she whispered, turning her attention to her boss.

  The guys who’d been standing around the room drinking coffee and talking took their seats.

  Gordy strode to the front of the room. “As many of you know, there’s been another victim. Late last night—or early this morning, I guess—we found another one.”

  “Same M.O.?” someone asked.

  “Yes. Dismembered and headless.”

  “DNA?” Another cop drummed his fingers on the table.

  “Again, none. The spot was remarkably clean of human DNA.”

  “Gordy?” Amanda watched every head swivel to look at her. Sometimes being the only female on the task force sucked. “You said human DNA. What did you mean?”

  A couple of the guys at the other end of the table snickered. A hard look from both Gordy and Nick silenced them.

  Still, one wise guy had to make a crack. “You know, human. People. Like you and me.”

  Amanda ignored him, watching Gordy. “Did you find animal DNA at the site?”

  “Yes.” Gordy’s short answer silenced the room. “Canine. Normally, that in itself wouldn’t really be unusual. But the dog didn’t disturb the body that we can tell. No teeth marks, nothing besides the head missing. I’ll know more after I get the M.E.’s report.”

  Canine. Amanda stared down at her hands, avoiding looking at Nick. More likely lupine would be a better description, and she was betting once the lab finished their analysis, they’d say so, too.

  Why now and not before? Had the others been taken by surprise? This time, had the victim changed in the moments before his attack, the better to defend himself? Did werewolves or, she raised her head to glance at Nick, shifters change back to human form after they lost their lives?

  Frowning, Nick looked back at her. “Later,” he mouthed.

  “That said,” Gordy continued, “we are no closer to determining a motive or a suspect than we were when these killings began. We’ve established the pattern. The killer strikes only on Wednesday nights. And, like always, he’s losing control.”

  “Since the time between kills has decreased,” one man muttered.

  “Right.” Gordy speared him with a look. “The mayor’s involved now, the commissioner and the chief are all breathing down my back. We need answers, we need a suspect, something.”

  Gordy swept the room. “Does anyone have anything to report? Breaking news, a new lead? Anything?”

  Most of them avoided the lieutenant’s stare. Amanda clasped her hands in her lap and stared right back.

  Under the table, Nick touched her arm in warning. Apparently he didn’t want her to reveal what little they’d learned.

  As if she would. If she started spouting off about werewolves, they’d cart her off in a straitjacket.

  When Jason had decided she, as his girlfriend, needed to know the truth and had changed in front of her, Amanda had freaked. All her years as a police officer, working in the trenches, had hardened her to a degree, forced her to face a certain, unpleasant reality.

  But this—this was the stuff of nightmares. Seeing Jason become a wolf had been the beginning of the end of the relationship between them.

  Now, after his death, Amanda had developed an uneasy acceptance. No more, no less.

  She resisted the urge to bat Nick’s hand away.

  One officer cleared his throat. Another coughed. Several chose that moment to take long drinks of their coffee. No one volunteered any information.

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Gordy heaved a sigh. “They’re on my back to wrap this thing up. Before anyone else gets killed.”

  Still no one spoke. They didn’t have to. They were all in agreement.

  “All right then. Meeting dismissed.”

  As they all filed out of the room, Amanda started to head toward her cubicle, but Nick grabbed her arm. She allowed him to lead her outside, toward the parking lot and his rental car. Frankly, she was too damn tired to argue about anything.

  Once inside his car, Nick locked the doors but made no move to put the key in the ignition. Obviously he’d wanted to talk someplace where there was zero chance they’d be overheard.

  “What’s up?”

  He dragged his hands through his short hair. “I got a call last night.”

  Perking up at this, she leaned forward. “Go on.”

  In a few words he outlined what Mike had told him about the new Pack.

  Packs. “You organize yourselves into…Packs?”

  “Yes. Each state has their own council. There are county councils and we even have town councils in some towns with high concentrations of shifters.”

  “I see.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “So you think this Kenyon is killing the ones who want out of his Pack.”

  “It’s a possibility worth investigating.”

  “Is that usual? Killing anyone who wants out?”

  His brown eyes looked almost black in the bright sunlight. “No. Despite what we might seem like to you, we’re actually quite civilized. Humans kill other humans. Wolves don’t kill other wolves.”

  She supposed she deserved that. “How long are you going to wait for this Mike to arrange a meeting?”

  “If I haven’t heard from him by noon, I’ll call him back. But I think he’ll come through. If Kenyon’s ever been higher up in a regular Pack, he’ll recognize my name.”

  Narrow-eyed, she studied him. “You’re so powerful then, are you?”

  He didn’t even crack a hint of a smile. “In some circles. But there’s more, Amanda.”

  She sighed. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

  “Mike said there were some who thought you might have killed Jason.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.”

  “Why would they think that? How could they think that, when his murder fit a pattern like all the others?”

  But she knew. Copycat. They believed she’d deliberately made Jason’s death look like it’d been the serial killer’s handiwork. He must have told his friends how she’d reacted when he showed her the truth about himself.

  Great. Just great.

  Nick said nothing else, just watched her intently.

  “That hurts.” Amanda meant it. “I cared for Jason.”

  “But you broke up with him.”

  “He changed into a wolf right in front of me. He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him.”

  “You didn’t handle that well.”

  “No,” she mimicked his bland tone. “I didn’t handle that well at all.” Her chest felt tight. She resisted the urge to cross her arms. Too
defensive. She didn’t want Nick to think she had reason to be defensive about anything.

  They stared at each other in the front seat of the car, the tension between them palpable. Finally, Nick shook his head. “I’ve got to know, Amanda. Did you kill Jason?”

  She was a cop, through and through. To her very bones she understood why he had to ask the question, but that didn’t keep the pain from knifing through her heart.

  “I did not.” Straightening her shoulders, she looked him full in the face. “I couldn’t. First off, I’m a law enforcement officer. I don’t go around murdering people. Second—”

  He kissed her despite his promise, his mouth slanting over hers, hard and possessive. Just that one kiss, and she was breathless.

  “I believe you,” he growled, staring at her lips. “Hounds help me, I believe you.”

  She pressed her back into the door. “I think we’d better go inside.” She cleared her throat. “Because if someone saw that…”

  “Wait.”

  Hand on the door handle, she froze.

  “Mike said something else. He said you were in danger. The ones who believe you responsible mean to take action.”

  “Oh, really.” She turned her head and smiled brightly. “Then that would explain the sudden rash of phone threats I’ve gotten since Jason died.”

  “Phone threats.” Glaring at her, he shook his head. “You didn’t see fit to mention these earlier?”

  “No. Not to you, not to Gordy, or anyone else. Not until I know it means something. I’m a cop, damn it. Things might be different for you almighty FBI guys, but in my job threats come with the territory.”

  “Amanda.” Something in his voice knocked the wind from her sails. “You’ve never been hunted by a shifter. When a wolf moves in for the kill, he rarely misses.”

  A warning? Maybe, but Nick spoke only truth.

  “I don’t have to defend myself.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not to you or to anyone else.”

  “Tell me about the calls.”

  “There’ve been three. Same guy, using something simple—hand over his mouth, or a cloth—to distort his voice. He always says the same thing. Once we get proof that you did it, you’ll pay.”