Sentiments & Reason ✓ (Dogs, Bats & Monkeys series, Book II)

Chapter 38

I put a hand on the door handle.

The goose bumps appeared again.

I listened and sniffed the air.

No sound, no new scents.

Pushing the door open, I stepped in, towards the center of the room. I planned to take a slow three hundred and sixty degree from there, taking in my general surroundings before I went about the room, examining it and the objects in it in more detail.

I didn't make it to a full turn.

Once I faced the door, I realized there was someone behind it, extending their arm and pushing until the door closed with a resounding thud, caging us in.

I had never met the young woman before me - she must've been around my age - but she bore a striking resemblance to the old pictures I'd seen of Anne back when she'd been young, back before she'd gone against our pack and run away with her mate Jason and his small group of shady drifter wolves.

And this woman?

I was sure she was a shifter. I was sure she was Anne and Jason's daughter. I was sure that even if she hadn't committed this particular murder on her own, she was responsible for the deaths in Woodville.

"You are not blond." Oddly enough, that was the first thing I said to the relaxed figure that was casually leaning on the blood-splattered wall next to the closed door.

She raised a dark brown eyebrow - the same color as her hair - and asked:

"Why would you think I was blond?"

Her voice was even, with just a hint of amusement in it. The wind outside swished, banging the branches of a nearby tree against the glass of the window.

The sound made me jumpy.

It was either that or the realization that I was in the presence of a serial killer was starting to sink in.

"Someone saw a wolf on our territory last summer," I replied, imitating her calm tone. "One with white fur with just a hint of yellow. It didn't feel like they were there to harm us, but there was a tiny possibility it was you."

"So you thought I'd be a platinum blond or something?" The smile that bloomed on her large lips seemed almost friendly.

"It was a possibility."

"Maybe I bleached my hair back then." She spoke to me in the same casual inflection you'd expect from two friends chatting about everyday life over cups of coffee.

"Your natural hair color would've still been your fur color once you shifted," I pointed out.

Both of her eyebrows rose this time. My words seemed to had surprise her.

"Hmm. Didn't know that," she admitted. "Only once did I change my hair color and I didn't transform while I was a redhead. I prefer my human form, you see, unless I'm killing people."

Her merry chuckle sent a shiver through me.

"Well," she went on, "I sometimes stay human when I'm killing, but I wanted you to know what I was when I played around in Woodville, so I had to shift to wolf then."

"Played around?" I asked quietly, my fists clenching. The more I spoke to her, the less afraid I was. I was sure this woman was mentally unstable and dangerous, but I was beginning to get too angry to care about that.

She leaned slightly forward and whispered in an amused tone: "Taking a life can be entertaining."

And then she winked at me.