throat.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she drawled.
“I’m not. I swear. You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Silence, punctuated only by their sharp breathing and the rustling trees, and then she muttered a quiet, colorful curse and lowered the knife. She was taking a step back as he turned to face her. He tried to give himself time to prepare, but there was no way to hide the fact he was floored. Damn near knocked on his ass by the sight of her, just like he’d been the first time he noticed her transformation from a scrawny, troublesome tomboy into a beautiful girl. It’d been a sweet shock to his system, as well as painful as hell, since Noah had known he couldn’t have her. His unlikely friendship with her older brother, Harris, had been part of the problem. Harris would have kicked his ass if he’d known Noah had a serious case of lust for his younger sister, and he hadn’t wanted to lose that friendship. Then there’d been Jessie, who would have skinned him alive if he’d so much as looked at Willow with a whisper of interest.
It hadn’t been easy, but Noah had somehow managed to fight the rising attraction … until that hot summer night when he’d come across her fighting off Johnny Stubb in the front seat of the bastard’s Corvette. Raw, possessive fury had taken hold of him, and his resistance had shattered, along with Stubb’s nose when it met with his fist.
But she was no longer that reed-thin little urchin who’d tried so hard to hold her own with the boys. The features that had once been a little too bold for her age were now stunning within her heart-shaped face, the long braids replaced by sexy, light blond curls that brushed her shoulders. She hadn’t gained much in height, but her five-sixish frame was leanly muscled and beautifully curved in all the right places. She looked earthy and gorgeous, completely at home there in the primeval surroundings of the forest.
She didn’t blush under his heated appraisal, her rosy mouth tilted at a wry angle as she looked him right in the eye. Slowly, she said, “I never thought I’d see the day that Noah Winston came slinking back home.”
“It’s … good to see you,” he murmured, giving her a wary nod as he shoved his hands in his pockets, figuring it was the safest place for them. He watched as she slipped the knife into the sheath strapped to her tanned, bare thigh, her cutoff shorts and skimpy halter top revealing far too much flesh for his peace of mind. He was a little shocked to see her wearing the weapon so openly, but knew he shouldn’t be. Any woman who was related to Jessie Broussard was bound to be hell on wheels, and Willow was obviously no exception. Her parents had been killed in a boating accident when she was only five, and it was Jessie who had raised Willow and her siblings. Raised them and loved them like her own.
Clearing his throat, he added, “It’s been a long time.”
She dragged her gaze over him, then slid him a taunting smirk. “You look like hell.”
And you look good enough to eat. Or lick. Or nibble on, he thought, keeping the provocative, no doubt dangerous, words to himself. Instead, he said, “You look … pissed.”
She arched one slim pale brow. “I’m sure that doesn’t come as a shock. Most girls never stop hating the first guy who trampled their heart. We have long memories.”
“I didn’t do a damn thing to your heart,” he said tightly. Her body, yes. He’d kissed it and touched it and had been on the verge of taking things too damn far before they’d been interrupted. Just thinking about it made his insides burn. He’d been about two seconds away from burying himself between her sweet little thighs when Harris had shown up. Then his mother … followed by Jessie. Before he knew it, a goddamn crowd of relatives had surrounded them.
“You know what?” she murmured, her voice growing softer. A chilling light flickered wildly in her big brown eyes, the unique color reminding him of gold-dusted cinnamon. “You’re right. You didn’t do a damn thing, Noah. You just cut out and ran.”
He scraped his palm across his scratchy jaw, silently reminding himself to stay calm. He couldn’t let her rile him, which was exactly what she was trying to do. “We haven’t seen each other in years, Will. Can’t we at least be civil?”
“You can be whatever you want,” she drawled.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
With a sharp sigh, she crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked her hip. “Exactly why are you here?”
“I already told you. I need to talk to your aunt. Ask her some questions.”
“And would this have anything to do with your little quest to save the world?”
Surprise had his eyes going wide. He knew she’d become some kind of hotshot private investigator for the ancient clans who still walked the earth. But he hadn’t imagined she would ever waste her time keeping tabs on him. “You’ve been spying on me?”
She shrugged, and Noah couldn’t help but notice how the motion pushed her breasts against the thin cotton of her shirt. “I’m not deaf,” she replied, the lazy, liquid cadence of her speech striking him as incredibly seductive. He’d spent so much time on the West Coast, he’d forgotten just how sultry a true Southern accent could sound on a woman. Like something hot and sugary that would melt on your tongue. “I’ve heard the talk spreading among the clans. You’re a part of the Watchmen now. Or whatever the separatists have decided to call themselves.”
Separatists? He almost laughed, imagining what Kellan, one of his werewolf buddies, would say to that. Idiot would probably love it.
“Look, it’s important that I talk to Jessie.” Before she could tell him her aunt wouldn’t want to hear anything he had to say, Noah played his ace. “It’s about your family.”
HER FAMILY? Though she tried to play it cool, Willow knew he’d seen the truth in her eyes. That initial blast of wariness and fear that had caught her by surprise. He couldn’t mean … No, that would be impossible. She didn’t know with any certainty that he was talking about Sienna. Hell, there were Broussards scattered all over the world, each one as crazy as the other. Any one of them could have stumbled into trouble. Noah was just sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her hands over her arms, wishing she were wearing more clothes. A woman needed full emotional battle armor when faced with a man like Noah Winston. Carefully, she said, “I don’t see how that could be possible. You don’t know a damn thing about my family, Noah.”
A warning flashed in his shadowed gaze, making her stomach bottom out. “I know something you’re going to want to hear. Trust me.”
“As if. I’m not in the habit of trusting the Casus,” she murmured, deliberately baiting him. She knew damn well that he hadn’t been taken over by one of the monsters. Yet. He was still Noah. But for how long? Without sustenance, the Casus had become shades while trapped within their metaphysical prison. From what she understood, they were forced to take human hosts when they returned to this world—but not just any humans. They needed ones who had a trace of Casus blood in their ancestry, and the Winstons fit the bill. Hell, they were practically the headliners.
“Stop the bullshit,” he growled, finally losing his temper as he took a step toward her. “You know me.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Wrong. I knew you, as in past tense. I don’t have a clue about who you are now.”
“I’m
