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“People in town don’t actually know me,” she returned, showing no sign of being affronted either by his remark or the fact that he had not shape-shifted like he was supposed to.
Jonas took another step forward, keeping to the darker spaces. His wolf urges were rising by steady degrees, drawn to the moon, drawn to Tess Owens, ready to take its turn in this face-off.
“Don’t stall the inevitable on my behalf,” she continued. “There’s no need to fight your true nature. You know you want a piece of me.”
“What nature would that be?” Jonas asked.
“The kind that howls.”
“I think I’d prefer to meet you on a more human basis, at least on this occasion,” he said.
“Should I be honored?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Show yourself and get this over with.”
“Put down the bow and I’ll think about your request.”
“How about if you reel in your claws?”
Her comeback was testy and insightful since she couldn’t actually see his claws. Wild guess?
Jonas asked, “What if I’m not what you’re thinking I am? Don’t you ever make a mistake when pointing a weapon at someone?”
“Only one mistake, and I won’t make it again.”
She might have been alluding to the death of her parents a year ago. But now that he was closer, Jonas finally got a good look at her face.
He suppressed a growl of appreciation. Tess was incredibly beautiful. All the right stuff was there, in all the right places. She had an oval face with perfectly symmetrical features and large, light eyes. Her brow was wide beneath a fringe of fair hair. Angular cheekbones gave her a regal look, though the deep hollows beneath them accentuated her thinness.
All in all, she didn’t look anything like any wolf hunter Jonas had ever seen.
However, she wasn’t perfect. Overlaying all that beauty was a trail of scars. Lavender lines, like crawling vines, crossed one side of her face, running from her forehead to her chin.
Jonas recognized those scars and knew what had made them. Tess had been mauled by a wolf, and that wolf had done some damage. Because she was here now, it was easy for him to see who the winner of that previous skirmish had been.
“Are scars the reason you stay away from town, or are hunters loners by necessity?” he asked, earnestly wondering about that.
A shudder of disgust ran through her, but Tess didn’t drop the aim of the arrow pointed in his direction. Still, Jonas thought he might have found that crack he’d been searching for, however small it might have been. Those scars bothered her.
“Old wounds come with the territory,” she said calmly enough.
Jonas nodded as he took another step toward her. She still wouldn’t be able to see him clearly, and he wasn’t going to allow verbal taunts or silver-tipped arrows to mess up this crucial meeting. Two more steps to his right and into the moonlight, and he would become the target she was looking for. He had to stave off that shape-shift. He had to hold on, sensing how badly she wanted to let that arrow fly.
Tess wasn’t just a hunter out to score. Her level of palpable aggression told him that she had a personal vendetta against the creatures she hunted. Six years on the force with the Miami PD had taught him a lot about dealing with emotion and the concept of revenge. Tess’s hatred for his kind left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Claws also come with the territory,” he said.
“Then use them. Do your worst. Or try to,” she taunted.
“Having animal in my DNA makeup doesn’t make me stupid, Tess.”
His use of her name surprised her. Her right cheek quivered.
“If true, that kind of insight would be a first,” she noted.
“You have no reason to fear or hate me. I’d like to offer a truce,” Jonas said.
“Like that will happen.”
“What can I do to force the issue? I have an agenda here that doesn’t include you. My reason for being in the area is important to people other than myself.”
“People?” She picked up on that word, emphasizing its misuse when pertaining to him.
Jonas wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. In Miami he was a respected detective on the job, fighting crime both in and out of the shadows. To Tess Owens, he was nothing more than an animal.
Turns out that she was formidable enough, he supposed. But she was also quite a sight standing there—a delicious, leather-clad, angry sight.
He wondered what she’d think if he mentioned how exotic he found her voice or how good she looked in that black suit. He could have bet she’d have been insulted then.
“I applaud your goals,” he told her. “But I’m not one of the bad guys.”
“Wouldn’t bad guys use that line?”
“Not around me,” he said.
Would Tess believe that Weres didn’t like bad guys of any species, including their own? Would she change her mind about werewolves if she knew how many decent wolves there were in the world, and how they fought behind the scenes to further the concept of peace and justice for all?
What if he showed her his badge?
“Most of the time, human is what I appear to be,” he said. “That’s what the world believes I am.”
“Except for those of us who know better.”
“Yes. But I’m not part of the reason you do what you do, and I’ve already stated that my intention for being here isn’t to cause you or anyone else around here harm.”
“Why here?” she asked, unshakable on her aim with that arrow.
“It’s as far away from others as I could find on the spur of the moment,” Jonas replied truthfully.
“What others?”
“People.”
“That’s rich,” she said. “And it would also be a point in your favor, if anyone was counting.”
All right, Jonas thought. That’s it. He had said more than he had intended, and Tess Owens had no right to question him further. Meeting her here had been a courtesy. He had hoped she’d see reason and leave him and Gwen alone, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.
It was likely that Tess was driven to exterminate every werewolf she came across and had made up her mind about him being included in that goal.
“I suppose there’s no reasoning with you then,” he said.
“Reason? I’m pretty sure werewolves don’t know the meaning of the word.”
He nodded. “Well then, it’s been a pleasure, Tess.”
The calmness of his closing remark also seemed to surprise her. Another shudder ran through Tess that was sizeable enough to make her leather suit creak.
“Show yourself,” she demanded, though her voice was softer, lower, and almost a purr.
Her tone stirred Jonas’s insides in a strange way, as if he could feel its vibration from where he stood. That purr melted into his skin, sparked his nerve endings in a way that created its own electricity.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, do you?” he asked.
“What it would do is make things a whole lot easier.”
“For whom? You?”
“Yes. For me,” she said.
“You believe that killing every Were you meet will bring your parents back? And that every Were is bent on carnage and destruction?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then you don’t know much, wolf hunter, and your education has been sorely lacking.”
She spoke quickly. “You’re suggesting that you are not like the others? That you’re different?”
“I can’t speak to the actions of those others. I can only repeat that I mean no harm to you or anyone else around here and leave it at that.”
“Can you prove what you say?”
“I can prove it by turning my back and leaving you alone and in one piece.”
“Or by showing yourself,” she suggested with more tension on the string of her bow.
Okay. If you say so...
Jonas stepped into the moonlight, allowing the rain of silver light to wash over him. The wolf inside him barreled upward so fast, his shape-shift was completed in the few seconds it took him to reach Tess Owens. So fast, she didn’t have time to use her lightning-fast reflexes and let loose of that arrow.
She might have been primed and fighting fit, but she was no match for a full-blooded Lycan who had been shifting since his teens. She was no real match for a werewolf who was twice as fast as any werewolf in his pack and shifted without recognizing the pain of each physical transformation.
And she was no competition for a Were whose sole purpose in life currently was to guard the sister who stood on the brink of death.
He had the bow in his hands before Tess could blink or utter a groan of protest.
He had her knife in his fingers, her hand in his, and the tip of the razor-sharp blade she carried tight up against his chest. Her blue eyes, wide with shock, met his.
Growling was the only way Jonas now had of speaking to her. That growl rumbled menacingly as he held her gaze and pressed the tip of the blade into his own flesh.
Do it if you don’t believe me, wolf hunter. Go ahead.
Whether it was the shock of his shift, his appearance, or his speed that stayed her hand...
Or maybe it was the look in his eyes as they met hers...
Tess Owens didn’t make that thrust. She stood there, staring at him as if momentarily confused.
And since the advantage belonged to Jonas, he took it.
Chapter 3 (#u17f9a30a-ccc2-5dc6-9c34-e62c478c69a4)
The werewolf in front of her was huge, muscled, and faster than anything Tess had ever seen. The adrenaline punch that hit her when she looked into his eyes was a stunning blow to her confidence.
His eyes were blue and way too human.
Those eyes were intelligent and intense.
And the face...the werewolf’s face...was disturbingly human, as well.
He had angular features and no sign of anything that even hinted at a wolfish outline. No five o’clock shadow, let alone the typical werewolf’s layering of fine hairs and elongated bone structure. This guy actually was different. He was resetting the stats on everything she had known about werewolves. Meeting him, seeing him like this, sent the damn rulebook spinning.
Why had he turned the knife on himself? One thrust of the blade and he’d be toast. One plunge into that broad, naked chest with the sharp end of her silver dagger, and she would come out the victor.
That’s what she had to do. That’s what she had been trained to do. Raised to do. Taught to do. Remember... Too many hesitations and death will be the result.
Then why didn’t she edge that knife deeper into the wolf’s flesh? And why wasn’t he tearing her apart? He made no move to hurt her. The damn werewolf was waiting for something. She thought she saw a flash of curiosity in his eyes.
“Who are you? What are you?” she asked after a long overdue breath.
Because of their closeness, the next growl that rumbled from the Were’s throat also rumbled through her. Tess kept a tight hold on the hilt of the knife. Her bow, along with the arrow, lay on the ground where he had tossed them, and far from reach, but they wouldn’t have helped in this awkward situation anyway.
Push the damn blade.
He’s not human.
None of them are human. They ate my parents and made me a freak.
The wolf’s response to her question was to inch closer. A trickle of blood began to seep through the small hole where the blade pierced his flesh, and yet he didn’t blink.
What was he doing, though? Did he want to die, or was this merely a tactic to confuse her?
Well, damn it, she was confused, and had to either get her mojo back or suffer the consequences in the next few seconds.
One of you killed my family...
Nevertheless, whatever he was trying to do with this odd turnaround stayed her hand. After several more seconds of alarming eye contact and a lot of pulse acceleration, Tess stepped back with her heart beating way too fast and the bloody knife clutched in her hand. A brand-new kind of fear was setting in. She had never come up against anything remotely like this Were.
