Dana groaned. “I’m trying to compile this list of people who fit Cole’s profile. Can’t you look through the emails?”
“Oh, I am looking through the emails,” said Avery. He pointed to his desk, where she could see a stack twice the size of hers. “See? I gave you a smaller batch.”
She made a face. “I hate doing stuff like this. Someone should write a computer program for this.”
“Right,” said Avery. “Considering that would be really lucrative for them.”
She looked down at the stack of paper. The first email was written to Cole from someone with the email address “randallfan09994.” It asked for information on Cole’s favorite food and inquired about what kind of TV shows he liked.
Dana moved it to the bottom of the stack. She needed some way to filter through this, to look for certain words.
“Hey,” she called after Avery. “Do you have these digitally somewhere?”
He turned to her, eyebrow arched. “You want to read them on the screen?”
“No,” she said. “I want to use a ‘find’ program to search for keywords.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “Okay, that’s not actually a bad idea, Gray.”
She grinned.
He beckoned. “Come over here and show me how to do it, why don’t you?”
She went over to Avery’s desk. It was covered in a big desktop calendar. Avery had penciled in the dates of all the baseball games his favorite team would play. It said nothing about work. His access badge peered out from under the edge of the calendar.
Dana bit her lip. What were the odds that Avery would notice his badge was missing if she took it?
Maybe if she used it later tonight?
He wasn’t going to notice it if she had it back to him by tomorrow, was he?
“What are you looking at, Gray?”
“Just that you’ve got nothing on your calendar except baseball games,” she said.
“I have to remember to set my DVR for the ones that fall on full moons,” he said.
She rolled her eyes.
“What? I hate missing them.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out two crumpled dollar bills. “If you go to the vending machine, I’ll buy you a soda.”
Avery shrugged. “Sure. What kind you want?”
“Coke’s fine,” she said.
“Be back in a minute.”
She waited until he was out of the office before sliding the access badge into her pocket.
She’d see Cole tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dana swiped Avery’s access badge inside the elevator. It was 1:17 AM, and she hoped that meant it was late enough that no one was paying much attention to what was going on. On the other hand, maybe it meant that going to see Cole was conspicuous. Maybe the people on the maximum security floor would be suspicious.
She pressed buttons on the elevator, and it began to move.
She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to see Cole. After all, they’d made it so her badge wouldn’t let her down the elevator. Maybe they’d told everyone who worked down there not to let her in.
She paced the inside of the elevator nervously, watching the floors click down.
Was this going to work?
What would she say if she got to the bottom floor and they told her she wasn’t allowed down there? Could she pretend it had been a mistake? Could she laugh it off? Maybe she could convince them they were making a mistake.
But, oh God, if Avery found out that she’d taken his badge, he was going to be pissed off. And everyone would take her behavior as further proof that she shouldn’t be around Cole.
Maybe she shouldn’t.
But she had to see him.
The elevator door opened.
A woman was at the door, staring at her computer. She was watching a television episode. One of those police procedural shows. Dana couldn’t remember the name of it. Without looking up, the woman said, “You know where you’re headed?”
“Yeah,” said Dana.
“The guard’ll open any door you need.” The woman waved Dana by.
Okay, so far, so good. It was working. Dana stepped past the woman and started down the hallway. She remembered the cell that Cole was in, but she let enough of the wolf out to smell, just to make sure.
A guard saw her walking down the hall. “You need a cell opened?”
“Yes,” said Dana, stopping in front of the same cell Cole had been in before. She could smell him. He was here now.
“Randall,” said the guard. “You’re one of those trackers trying to figure out how he’s connected to those rogues, right?”
“Right,” said Dana. He didn’t know anything! He had no idea she wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Coming while he’s sleeping is a good plan,” said the guard. “You’ll get under his skin.” He got out a key and put it in the door. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready to come out, okay?”
“Okay,” said Dana, forcing herself to smile. She was a wreck inside, her palms sweaty and her pulse racing. She was going to see Cole. She drew in a shaky breath.
The cell door opened.
It was dark inside.
“I can get the lights in there for you,” said the guard. “Only take me a minute after I close the door behind you.”
“Thanks,” she said. Her voice had gone breathy. She lurched into the dark room, her center of balance off.
His smell was intense. It was all around her. She couldn’t see anything but blackness, but the dark smell of Cole wrapped around her.
The door shut behind her.
She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She waited.
She could hear his steady, even breath, not far away. He was asleep.
Cole sleeping. She’d never quite considered it before. He’d be vulnerable. And if she wanted, she could go to him, cover his mouth and nose. Suffocate him.
All her problems would be solved.
The light came on.
Cole’s cell contained a bed, a desk, a toilet, and a sink. It was tiny, white, and bare.
He sat up in bed, making a startled noise.
She backed up against the door. What was she doing here? Why had she come?
“Dana.” He swept his glasses off his desk, which was right against the bed, jammed them on his face, and was across the small cell, inches from her.
“Stop,” she said, panic shooting through her.
He did. He didn’t touch her. He stood in front of her, hands at his side, and he gazed at her greedily, as if he were lapping her up with his eyes. She realized that this was the first time she’d seen him that he hadn’t been wearing handcuffs. She took a shaky breath.
“What took you so long?” he said. “I told you to come back to see me.”
“They won’t let me,” said Dana. “I had to sneak down tonight.”
He smiled. “But you made it.”
She nodded. She gazed deep into his eyes for a second, and then she looked away. She studied the floor instead. “You did something to me.”
“You did something to me too,” he said.
She turned back to him. “No, I don’t mean...” She pointed back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t mean this. I mean that I’m losing control of my wolf. It keeps trying to come out anytime it wants, and it’s endangering people. You changed something when you made me shift all those times.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? Fuck you.” Her hands clenched into fists. His little games made her so angry. Why couldn’t he just explain something for once?
“Dana, your wolf was released from the prison you kept her in. She woke up and matured. You’ll never be able to put her in that box again.”
“Never?” She twisted her hands together. “You’re saying that I’ll spend the rest of my life never sure if the wolf could pop out at any minute.” She felt close to tears. “You bastard. How could you do that to me?”
/> “I’m not saying that at all,” said Cole. “Stop fighting the wolf and trust her. She’s just another aspect of you. She wouldn’t do anything that you wouldn’t do.”
Dana flashed on a memory. Being outside the baby’s room in Coraline’s house. The wolf curling back up and getting under control at the word “cub.” Was what Cole was saying true? Was the wolf really trustworthy?
But she didn’t contemplate it too much, because the memory reminded her of something else, and she was livid. “You did this last thing. You made them shift, didn’t you?”
Cole grinned, and his whole face lit up. He looked insane. “You’re figuring it out. Very good.”
“People died, Cole.”
“Oh, I thought you’d be pleased. It was really a lot less than last time. Body count of two, I believe.”
“One of those rogues had a baby. She could have killed the baby.” Dana’s nostrils flared. “I know you’re a monster, Cole, but a tiny, helpless—”
“She didn’t kill the baby, did she?”
Dana folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t try and pretend you could control that.”
“Not me,” said Cole. “The rogue. She’s tuned in, that one. She’s not quite as advanced as you, of course, but she could get there.”
“As me? Did you do something to her?”
Cole shrugged. He walked over to his bed and sat down, smoothing out the covers.
“I thought you’d tell me more if I came to see you. I’m here, against all the rules. Now make it worth my while. Did you do something to her?”
He glanced at her sidelong. “Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“What I couldn’t do to you.”
“You couldn’t kill me.”
He shook his head. “You’re very clever, Dana, but you’ve still never really figured it out. Think, beautiful, what would I have wanted with those wolves I tracked down? The ones who fit ‘my profile,’ as you say.”
She was taken aback. “You wanted to teach them a lesson. You wanted to punish them because they weren’t proper werewolves.”
“No,” he said. “It wasn’t punishment. I only killed the ones that were useless to me.”
“Useless...?” She shook her head, taking a step closer to him. “What do you mean?”
His smile widened. “I think that’s quite enough information for one visit, don’t you?”
“No.”
“I’m much more interested in other things now that you’re here. Alone. With me.” He sprang up off the bed and advanced on her.
Dana flattened herself against the door. “Don’t touch me.”
He chuckled, low and self-assured. “I’m sure you’d despise that, wouldn’t you?”
She should knock on the door. Yell for the guard. But she didn’t do either. Her mouth was dry. She tried to swallow and couldn’t.
Cole’s hand rested next to her. He leaned over, propped up against the wall where she cowered from him. “You know what I remember the most? Those little noises you always made when I had my hands on you. Tiny gasps and sighs and moans.”
“Shut up.” Her voice was unsteady.
“What do you remember, Dana?”
She peered up into his dark, dark eyes, blood throbbing against her skin, her breath shallow. “I remember everything.”
“Do you think of me?”
She licked her lips. “All the time. I can’t stop.”
“What do you think about?”
She shook. She meant it just to be her head, but it was her whole body.
“Tell me, Dana. Tell me.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I shouldn’t think about you. I’m... ashamed...”
This didn’t faze him. His face dipped down, closer to hers.
Her lips parted.
“Do you think about my touch?”
“Yes.”
“Where do I touch you, Dana?”
She couldn’t breathe. She slammed her eyes closed.
“Say it,” said Cole, “or show me.”
“No,” she said, her voice tiny. But her body was betraying her, just like it always did. She was pleasantly aware of something stirring between her thighs. Cole’s voice, his proximity, was enough to wake it up.
“You touch yourself when you’re alone, don’t you? You imagine it’s my hand. You say my name under your breath.”
She opened her eyes, trying to summon fury at him instead of lust. “No.”
He was grinning. “No?”
“Just because you’re pathetically jerking off down here, thinking about me, doesn’t mean that I—”
His hand was inside her shirt. She felt the light brush of his hands against her skin. She couldn’t think to form words. Shivers traveled up her torso. She sighed.
“Yes,” he said. “That noise.” His hand moved, inching higher, brushing the underside of her breast.
She grabbed his hand, stopping him. “Wait.”
“Dana—”
“This is wrong,” she murmured. It was disgusting and pathetic and embarrassing. And if anyone found out... God, if anyone knew...
“Wrong is for humans. We’re more than that.” And he closed his hand around her breast. “Is this where you touch yourself, Dana? Is this where you stroke yourself while you think of me?”
“Yes,” she said. She wound her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face down to hers.
Her tongue found his tongue. His mouth was wet and hot and urgent, and she kissed him like she could somehow sear out all this unwanted desire if she made her passion burn bright enough.
Then abruptly, she pushed him away.
He stumbled backwards, surprised.
“Don’t touch me,” she said.
He touched his lips. “Just let me—”
“No.”
He exhaled.
“I didn’t come down here so that you could get to second base.”
“How about third?” he said. “Don’t lie and tell me you’re not wet for me.”
She sucked in breath audibly, whether because she was offended or turned on, she wasn’t sure. “No more.”
He raised his eyebrows. “All right then.”
She ran her hands over the bottom of her shirt, smoothing it, feeling agitated. “I’m leaving.” She turned to face the door and raised her hand to knock.
“Suit yourself.”
“Right now,” she murmured, more to herself than Cole. “I’m going to go.” Why wasn’t she knocking? She stared at the door and willed herself to knock, but nothing happened.
“Dana?”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Take off your bra.”
She bit down on her lip. “W-why?”
“I want it.”
She put her thumbnail to her teeth. Chewed it. “No. Someone will see it. They’ll wonder how you got it.”
“No one will see it. I’ll hide it.”
She shook her head. “That’s...” Gross, right? Or... sort of hot in a weird way? She imagined walking all the way back to her apartment without a bra, the fabric of her shirt rubbing against her nipples, knowing that Cole had her bra down here.
She shut her eyes.
“Take it off.” His voice was demanding and deep.
She reached behind her back, inside her shirt, and unsnapped it.
* * *
“Jesus,” said Ursula, flipping through the printout Dana had given her. “These all fit Cole’s profile?”
“Yes,” said Dana. “But that’s nationwide, and thus far, he’s only done things regionally. The regional potentials only fill two pages.”
Ursula sighed. “This is too much. We can’t do anything with this amount of people. There’s no way.”
“Well, if we needed to,” said Dana, “I’m thinking that they might fit here if we doubled up and tripled up in some of the living space.”
“I was thinking about sequestering them all here until we could get Randall under control,” sa
id Ursula. “There’s no way we can do that. We need to narrow things down. Figure out who he was communicating with.” She flipped through the printout again. “How are you doing with Randall’s emails? Any progress?”
“Brooks is going through most of that.” She peered across the office to Avery’s desk. He was there, staring at his computer screen, occasionally punching things in the computer.
“You need to cross-reference the list of potentials against the emails. He’s got to be communicating with someone on this list,” said Ursula, handing the printout back to Dana.
Cross-referencing? Yuck. Didn’t secretaries do stuff like that? But Dana only nodded. “Okay. I’ll see if I can come up with anything that fits.”
“Great,” said Ursula. “And sooner would be better than later if at all possible.”
“Right.” Dana headed across the office to Avery’s desk.
He looked up at her. “What did King have to say?”
“She wants us to cross-reference this list against the emails.” Dana held up the list of potentials.
Avery wrinkled his nose. “That looks even less fun than what I’m doing.”
She sank into a chair next to his desk. “I know.”
“And to top everything off, I lost my access badge,” said Avery. “King’s going to be pissed at me. I haven’t told her yet.”
“That sucks,” said Dana. The access badge was in her pocket. She needed to get it back to him. She pointed at a spot in thin air behind Avery’s shoulder. “What the hell?”
Avery turned.
She slid the badge back under his calendar.
He turned back around. “What?”
She squinted. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
“It is nothing, Gray. What did you think you saw?”
“I’m losing my mind,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. What were you talking about? Your access badge?”
Avery rubbed his chin. “Yeah, but I was saying that I lost it.”
“Have you looked under your desk calendar? I thought I saw it there yesterday.”
He lifted the calendar. “What do you know? It’s right there.” He grinned at her. “You’re awesome, Gray.”
She smiled back.
* * *
Dana’s muscles screamed at her as she got of the shower. She’d been running for over an hour this evening, and she thought she’d chased all her Cole thoughts away. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had her bra down there in his cell. What the hell was he doing with it?
No, she knew what he was doing with it, but she shouldn’t think about it. Because then she had to experience that horrible mix of arousal and shame.