Ripper (Hunter #1)(3)

“What did the police say?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew what they had told the freaked-out mom.

Helen’s face twisted and I knew she was pissed as hell at the police. “They said she’d probably run off with a boy. They said it happens all the time. They took a report, but that was all they were willing to do.”

And it was all they would do for the daughter of a janitor. In my experience, justice was for the people in Highland Park. The police had bigger problems to deal with than chasing down some poor co-ed who by all statistics likely had simply run off with a boy.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked because she had me. I would do the job because if I didn’t, I would be adding Joanne Taylor’s sunny face to the rotating players in my nightmares.

“I want you to do what you do best.” Mrs. Taylor opened her purse and took out an envelope. She laid it on the desk. “I want you to hunt my daughter.”





Chapter Two





I let my mind drift as I drove along 183. At this time in the afternoon, it was a fairly easy thing to do. In another hour or so it would be a suicidal prospect as the entire freeway would be moving at breakneck speeds with little distance between cars. That was driving in DFW during rush hour. Now, in the early afternoon, driving through Irving to Dallas was peaceful. If you live in the DFW area, you get used to driving. Some people might think that a thirty-minute drive was a big deal, but I did it at least four or five times a week and every time my mind drifted despite my best efforts. I could have the radio on or off. I could try to play mind games to keep my brain away from dangerous places, but nothing worked. I’d tried audiobooks once, listening to the last Harry Potter as I drove around the Metroplex in my old Jeep, but I had to back up and listen to the same chapter four times so I gave up. My mind wandered.

Now I let it drift to revenge fantasies. It was far better than the usual horror movies that played out in my brain. I was going to kill Olivia Carey and become the villain I always knew I could be. I imagined the throngs of weeping students at her memorial. They would leave little teddy bears at the sight of her horrible murder, which would occur wherever I happened to find her at that freaky school she worked at. If she was in her classroom, then that was my killing ground. Same thing with the cafeteria or the library. I wouldn’t discriminate.

Nor would I let a thing like love get in my way.

I loved Olivia Carey. I’ve often thought that life would have been easier had I been born a lesbian. It was one of the universe’s wicked mistakes that I needed a penis to make me happy sexually because in all other ways, Liv was the girl for me. I don’t know how normal friendships work. I never had a real friend before Olivia, so I don’t know if the intense bond we share exists between other girlfriends. Liv and I hadn’t bonded over pedicures and crushes over boys. We bonded because she saved my life. I don’t mean that in a “how would I get through without you” way. I mean that in a “stop the bleeding and convince me not to ever try that again” way.

Did that really give her the right to f*ck with my life? I knew she thought I was wasting my talents on police reports and catching cheating hubbies. She thought I should put my skills to use helping the helpless and shit. She’d watched one too many superhero flicks. I wasn’t that girl no matter how much she wanted it to be true. I would help Helen Taylor because she’d gotten through a chink in my armor and I felt a responsibility to her, but I would be fixing that fissure as soon as possible. Liv needed to understand that if I decided she was my weakness, I might have to dump her ass. She could find a more suitable friend and I would be happy alone without anyone’s expectations to live up to.

“Fuck.” I banged my hand against the steering wheel as I took the exit and then I winced because that hurt. I was smart enough to know that I was never going to kick Liv out. I could bitch and moan all I liked about being a loner, but I needed her. The thought of a world without Liv left me cold. I even tried to get along with her deadbeat boyfriend, Scott, and I hated him with a passion. I dreaded the day I had to stand beside her as her maid of honor while she threw away her life on that idiot because she was way too loyal to her college love. Sometimes I thought Liv collected people the way others collected stray dogs though, I should point out, she collects those, too. Once a person got into Liv’s circle, she would never kick you out no matter how bad your taste in music or how surly your outlook on life was. Sadly, that last bit could be me or Scott.

Like I said, I’m honest with myself.

It was almost four o’clock when I pulled into the parking lot of the Montrose School for Special Children. I wondered if it bothered the students to be considered “special.” I was sure the outside world heard that moniker and assumed special needs. These kids had special needs, but they had nothing to do with what you normally associated with the term. These were the children of supernatural citizens. The teachers here knew how to handle teen werewolves when the moon was full. They had classes to teach young witches how to control their power.

I hopped out of the Jeep, noting that Liv’s little hybrid was still in the half full parking lot. The school went from kindergarten through high school. It was a small school, but they had lots of afterschool activities. At this hour, it would mostly be the high school kids left attending their Spanish club meetings or the mandatory “Dealing with Demons” seminar they held twice a year.