Reid Criminal Minds Novels & Stories

"You look like his dead girlfriend. That's why he's obsessed. You're a ghost made flesh. A replacement." "You're lying." "Am I?" She took her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through photographs. Each one made my blood chill. Reed in a warehouse, surrounded by men with guns. Reed shaking hands with the criminals I had seen in news reports. Reed looking down at bodies, blood on his clothes, facial expression blank.

I realized that everything about this case–the background, the motive–was just fed to me through the police and the witness. A perfect loop. The killer knew that once I got to the station, I would try to dismantle the story. So he built it airtight. I took every piece of information I just heard and broke it down like components in a system, reconstructing it over and over in my mind. There had to be a single point–a central node where all the details intersected. That was where the truth was hidden. I lifted my head and scanned the crowd. Then my eyes lit up. I raised my hand and pointed straight at someone. "It's him."

A deep voice resonated inside the study followed by a low chuckle. “Long time no see, Devil.” Aidan also answered with indifference. "Please have a seat." The deep voice again resounded. Aidan nodded and sat on the couch opposite Devil. “It seems that you are again in trouble,” Devil sneered. “Yes. This Xander Reid is giving me a hard time. Now the crime branch is going to investigate the case. They are appointing the best officer of the city.” Aidan sighed in dismay, but Devil let out loud laughter as though the revelation didn’t affect him at all.

Looking to her left she could see the soft glow of a hospital monitor. She was hit with an overwhelming sense of deja'vu once more. This filled her with an uneasy feeling and the image of someone laying in a hospital bed with lines, tubes, and a monitor flashed before her mind's eye. The unknown individual was covered with bandages from head to toe. It was undeniable that something horrible had happened to them. But who could that have been? Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to remember where she had seen such a thing before. Had it possibly been a scene from a movie?Was it possible that it could be some forgotten memory of something that had happened to someone she knew? Surely, if it w

I get back up and pound on the invisible wall in front of me, trying to break through, but it’s solid. I watch in helplessness as Gaston falters with his opponent but is still holding on with everything he has. However, if I don’t get to him soon, he won’t make it. I snarl out at my impotence, unable to break this wall to reach these men to help them. The male fighting Pierre shifts back into his human form, just as Pierre does when he hits the wall behind him, his wolf not being able to keep the shift due to his injuries. The red-headed male pins Pierre to the wall by his neck. He glances back over his shoulder at me, and I immediately recognize him. Reid Sinclair. The last of my mother’s r

His eyes, sharp and cold, swept briefly over Asher, lingering just long enough to let something unspoken pass between them, before sliding to Luca. The corners of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk, one only Luca seemed to catch. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” “I do,” Reid said smoothly. The sound of it settled over the courtroom like a loaded gun, everyone silently bracing for the shot. The prosecutor didn’t waste any time. “Mr. Reid,” she began, her tone level but edged with something predatory, “you served alongside Mr. Hartwell during your military career, correct?”

~ On the drive back, with no one to fill the silence, my thoughts turned dark. Marcus Reid. Out of jail when he should’ve been rotting. That bastard looked me in the eye with so much confidence, almost like he knew the cops couldn’t touch him and maybe they couldn’t. I gripped the wheel tighter, my knuckles white. Bennett always had a knack for attracting trouble, but this was different. This was targeted and personal. And if Reid was bold enough to jump us in the open, what else was he planning? And who was he working for?

These were ghosts from the Maddox family’s more shadowed corners, men whose histories were scrubbed and rewritten with Maddox money. Reid, stocky with an eternal five o'clock shadow and a stare that could freeze a bullet mid-air, was bent over his laptop. He’d been on camera duty all night, scanning public footage, digging into anything with a digital trace. His tattoos curled up his neck and under his ear like smoke.

Reid stopped. "He's too dangerous to take alive. You put him in any containment facility the Division has and he'll be out within a week. You put researchers in a room with him and he'll profile them before they profile him and then he'll use what he learns to walk out." She closed the folder. "Marcus Webb spent three years learning how people think. He hasn't lost that. He's just lost the part that cared about consequences." "Those are your orders, Agent…" "Don't," she said.

The Hallorans wanted to prove to the rest of the region that they were the safest and most crime-free pack around. Much good that idea lasted. My stomach churned with ongoing nausea from the thought of Reid suffering in that absolute hellhole of a place. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Marin,” I said. “Elena, if you plan on doing something, just please promise that you’ll be careful,” she said. “Barrett is not the man he once was. He’s deranged and truly unpredictable.” “I understand.” The call ended. I wasn’t sure whether to feel better for the knowledge that we now had or a nervous wreck for the hell that we were going to face in order to get Reid back.