Baddest Bad Boys by Shannon McKenna, Cate Noble, E. C. Sheedy Page A

jocks.

    William had showed her a new world, a different universe. His inner power electrified her. She’d looked for her picture on milk cartons for a while, but no one ever found her. Not with a genius like William covering her tracks. He’d given her a new name, a new face. A new life.

    She’d belonged to him, completely. He was her everything.

    “What can I do?” she’d asked him. “My love.”

    His eyes held hers, full of dark shadows like storm clouds. “One thing, Jule,” he had whispered. “All I’ll ever ask from you.”

    “Anything,” she promised. “Anything, William.”

    He lifted his hand, and pressed his palm to the glass.

    AMENDOLA was sliced into his flesh, in big, jagged bloody block letters. Blood smeared over the thick layers of glass.

    Excitement buzzed through her as she stared at it. All she wanted in the world was to punish the police detective who had gutted their lives. But so far, William had forbidden her to risk exposure.

    Jon Amendola of the PPD was the reason she wasn’t with William right now, liberating their sixth candidate. They’d chosen the girl so carefully. Blonde, like Julia. Pretty, like Julia. Smart, like Julia. Bouncing from frat party to frat party at a nearby college. No clue she was about to transcend her own body and fly with the angel of death.

    She nodded slowly. Yes. Gladly. She could hardly wait.

    Lightning flashed deep in William’s fathomless blue eyes. Make it slow, he mouthed. Make it hurt.

    She nodded, eyes locked with his. One with him. And then their time was up. They’d spent the whole time staring at each other.

    Their gazes stayed locked to the last, until they led him away.

    So she had a task to accomplish. The huge responsibility had electrified her, kept her awake for the long drive home. But he hadn’t told her that he was going to leave her alone forever. That was cruel.

    Julia squeezed her eyes shut to block out the blinking answering machine. Those bloody letters were carved into her brain. AMENDOLA.

    She went into her bedroom, removed her clothing. Paced into the room that she and William had used for their special, private rituals. She lit the candelabra, and stared at her nude body in the mirror, the intricate beauty of her scars. She was a living work of art. William had sculpted her, with knives and fire. She was his legacy, his masterpiece.

    Amendola would pay. Double. She would take his wife, or his girlfriend, and perform the ultimate tribute to William’s memory upon her. She would toss the limp, broken body back at him like garbage. And when she finally did kill him, he would already be dead inside.

    William’s face took form in her mind, giving her a burst of joy. She realized, in a blinding flash of insight, that he was free now. Really free.

    Free of the burden of his own body. Free to guide her.

    Make it hurt. She’d been tutored by a master in the intricacies of pain. Levels upon levels of agony that transformed the soul.

    Make it hurt.

    Oh, yes. She would. And inside her head, William smiled at her.

    4

    Flapping wings, beating. Glaring eyes, hooked beak, a shriek that froze his blood. Rending claws, plummeting like a missile—

    And he was looking down at the girl, staked out, her naked body scarcely recognizable as human. Her jaw gaped. In her slack mouth was that telltale gleam of a delicate blue ovoid. The robin’s egg.

    The girl’s eyes snapped open. Horror stopped his heart.

    Robin’s huge brown eyes. Whites showed all around. They stared out, weeping tears of blood that streaked down her distorted face—

    Jon jerked upright, choking off a scream, and stared around, trying to orient himself. The cabin. The kitchen. Robin. Geddes and his hand gel. Jesus. Just a dream. One of the worst.

    It wasn’t getting better. He didn’t get it. He was thick-skinned. He bounced back from whatever plowed into him. Growing up in foster homes had made him tough, resiliant. He knew how to look out for