Free Barbie & The Beast by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

altogether unexpected, but a disappointment all the same. It seemed that Barbie Bradley liked games—as
     long as they didn’t go too far. Barbie Bradley had some substance to her, and possibly a keen imagination. However, he reminded
     himself, she was more than likely a normal young woman. One who had been issued stern childhood warnings about fraternizing
     with strangers.
    Darin chuckled over that. He was, after all, a parent’s worst nightmare. Still, his desire to see Barbie Bradley again was
     all he could think about. His desire to confirm her as“the one” seemed paramount at the moment, overriding his need for secrecy. The distance now separating them did nothing to
     dilute the desire.
    “Sappy sot,” he whispered, borrowing his acquaintance Walter’s upper-crust English phrase. “Hooked like a fish. Look at me.
     And, to my credit, I’m not exactly the worst of the things that actually go bump in the night. Right, Walter?”
    He received no answer, because Walter wasn’t there. And since his own excitement over finding Barbie Bradley was getting the
     better of him, the only way Darin could see to ease the excitement and let off steam was with good old physical exertion.
     Sprinting ought to do it. Feeling the wind on his face and the grass under his feet might help. No cold showers. He hated
     cold showers.
    He took off, racing over the grass, the curb, the asphalt of the parking lot, and several city blocks; then he slowed as he
     realized that someone might see him and call the cops. A man in a dinner suit and no shoes running for all he was worth, and
     as if his life depended on it? Dial 911. Wouldn’t those cops be surprised to find him, Darin Russell, at the heart of the
     complaints—if they ever caught up with him—since he was the person the cops usually called when bizarre complaints rolled
     in?
    Hoping to find someone caught, as he himself was, between worlds, between senses, between shapes—that was what had made him
     take the Miami PD gig, even though cops classified as bizarre anything merely inexplicable.
Paranormal
wasn’t in their vocabulary or on their radar. He had been dispatched on two occasions in the past month. Bad news was that
     so far he’d had no success in the supernatural department. Most monsters were of the purely human variety. Tempers, alcohol,
     drugs, stress, and tightly packed cities seemed to bring out the worst in people. Maybe he shouldbite them all. Show them what trouble really was, and then how to overcome it?
    Well, he’d thought he knew how to overcome his furry little problem. His plan had been to become a loner. To stay away from
     crowds and a full moon. But now, he had a sudden craving for company. And the practice of biting others to get them to grow
     up wasn’t viable. There were so many of those people, he doubted his teeth would last. Nor would everyone be cool about the
     wolf thing. Some animals you just couldn’t tame. If a bad guy were inadvertently initiated, then what? Darin made a mental
     note to ask Walter.
    Of course, worries of bad wolves did little to prevent Darin’s wondering if somewhere out there, in all those buildings, on
     all the streets, there wasn’t one other person with a similar affliction. If a wolf had made him what he was, surely that
     wolf or the wolf’s buddies had made others. A werewolf female, maybe? Imagine!
    Which brought him back to Barbie Bradley. What would she do if she found out about the sudden infusion of furballs into his
     genetics?
    “Ah, crap,” Darin barked. “I can’t think logically about this. Why don’t you answer your phone, Barbie?”
    City blocks blurred as Darin again ran. Very few cars passed. Finally he stopped beside a lamppost, barely breathing hard
     but wondering why he cared whether or not Barbie answered her damned phone. Other women found him attractive. Other women
     would appreciate his call.
    “Yeah. Hosts of women,” Darin remarked aloud. “Outside of a few