Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply by Michele Bardsley

almost as though he’d guessed my thoughts and welcomed my defiance. I gritted my teeth, ignored my impulse to hurt him.
    He led me to the dance floor.
    He placed a hand at my waist and I reluctantly put my hand on his shoulder. Then he lifted my other hand in his and whirled me around.
    “What do you want?” I asked.
    “The world,” he said, flashing that awful sharp smile. “And everything in it.”
    The world?
Really?
“Well, you can’t have Dove.” I felt chilled to my core. Was she okay? Had they hurt her? Why, why, why would someone take an orphaned, smart-mouthed college undergrad?
    “I already have her.” He executed a turn. I twirled away, and then returned to the slimeball’s arms. “If you want her back, Dr. Jameson, then you’ll come with me and do what I ask.”
    Oh, was that all? Grrr! I wanted to kick him in the shins. Hard. But terror, not retribution, crawled through me like a thousand marching spiders. I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling. If something happened to Dove . . . oh, God.
    “If you hurt her,” I said, “and I mean, if she even stubs her little toe in your care, then I’ll—”
    “You’ll
what
?” He pushed his face close to mine, daring me to threaten him. Aggression rolled off him in waves. He wasn’t a gentleman at all. He was a beast hiding in a fancy suit. Fear slicked my spine, and I got the distinct impression he wanted to tear out my throat with those sharp white teeth of his.
    “I will kill you,” I said.
    He drew back, and sighed. “How clichéd. I was hoping for a far more clever response—especially from you, Dr. Jameson. You’re very much known around here for your . . . hmm . . . I suppose some might call it wit.”
    “Occasionally it’s best to stick with the classics,” I said between clenched teeth. “Is it money, then? Ransom?”
    “You really do like her, don’t you?” He looked at me blankly, as though he didn’t fathom the concept of friendship. “It’s useful—this connection you humans have to one another.”
    “Us
humans
?” I asked, unable to keep the horror out of my tone. Great, Karn was crazy. I mean, I’d figured out he was ruthless, mean, and greedy . . . and those qualities, though heinous, did denote a villain who was at least purposeful in his nefariousness. But a man who was driven by the demons of insanity? And hel-lo, I understood emotional demons. And being mentally cracked. But not evil. Not like this man.
    “You have so much to learn. And I promise that the world I will reveal to you is worth the price you must pay.” He twirled me again, and when I came back to the starting point, he whisked me off the dance floor.
    He grasped my elbow and led me across the ballroom, past the food-laden tables, and toward the doors that led to the kitchens. My heart started to hammer in my chest. Where did he plan on taking me? What tasks did he want me to perform? And was Dove okay?
    “
Doctor
Jameson.” Doriana Zimmerman stepped into our path, effectively blocking our exit. “I need to speak to you about the program funding for our sea urchin research.”
    Doriana was the head of our marine biology department. She was 102 years old (okay, maybe just fifty or something) with wiry gray hair that always looked electrified. She had high cheekbones that she always rouged a terrible orange color, and she loved the color blue, which manifested in the glittery eyeshadow she wore—possibly to match the dress that hung loosely on her bony frame. Dove had nicknamed her Bride of Frankenstein, which was wrong, I know, but also a fair assessment of Doriana’s looks. Doriana was very good at her job, but absolutely manic about save-the-sea activities. I usually preferred entering a scorpion-infested pit over dealing with the woman’s barrage of funding requests, but today, oh, today, she was an angel from heaven.
    “Sea urchins?” I inquired. My captor squeezed my arm in warning. He couldn’t yank me away