further and further away.
“Your new companion will be here tomorrow,” he said lightly. “You probably need a female around. I think you’ll like her. She’ll stay for most of the day and go home before sundown. You know why she can’t stay here after dark settles in. That’s my shift. If you like her, we can see about having her spend more time here.”
Gwen’s pale blue eyes stared up at him as if she had heard him this time. She offered nothing in the way of facial expression.
“Right, then,” Jonas said. “I’m off to meet our neighbor. She sent me an invitation.”
In the old days, Gwen would have pleaded to go along. But even before her accident, she hadn’t yet been in full possession of the kind of skills that could have helped against things like experienced wolf hunters. It wouldn’t have been long, though, before his sister would have outshone every other Were in the area.
Gwen was an anomaly within an anomaly. A special being within the Were species. He wasn’t sure if she knew this.
“Wish me luck.” Jonas leaned over to place a kiss on his sister’s forehead and then headed out, knowing his meeting with Tess Owens couldn’t be postponed.
Keeping beneath the shadows of tree cover didn’t isolate him completely from the moon’s effects. Dappled light on his shoulders instigated sparks from nerves that buzzed, snapped and roused the wolf nestled inside him. His claws had appeared. Both shoulders ached. This was all part of the deal when the moon issued a come-hither.
After covering another acre of rocky, forested hillside, he got his first good impression of what was coming his way. Tess’s scent was in the air—that same mixture of smoke and flowers that had led him to her earlier.
The scent grew stronger as he walked. So did the moonlight. Jonas resisted the urge to shape-shift. Tess was here, just ahead, waiting for him. She had met him midway between the two cabins, which probably meant she knew where he was staying.
Tess Owens stood near a large rock pile at the crest of the hill overlooking property lines, surrounded by trees. She was partially camouflaged by shadows. The fact that she wore black would have helped to hide her from human eyes, but not from a werewolf’s. Jonas located her with a complex system of sight, scent and the image presented to him by way of her body heat.
It was showtime.
“Don’t bother to hide,” she called out in a tone that was both combative and dangerously sexy in equal measures. It was a deep voice for someone her size.
Jonas hadn’t counted on her ability to tune in to him so quickly, though. This was yet another detail that added respect and wariness to his initial assessment of her.
She seemed to be looking straight at him when she couldn’t possibly see that far. Night-vision goggles might have helped her to pinpoint him, but she wasn’t wearing them. Maybe she had heard his approach? The snap of a twig? A rustle of branches? He used to be better than this.
She spoke again. “These days I’m fairly good at what I do, and I get better with age and practice.”
Careful not to make a sound, Jonas inched forward with his wolfishness twisting his insides. A human growl stuck in his throat. The claws that had appeared made his human hands ache. His wolf side was willing to take on this threat, but it wasn’t time to let that happen. He doubted if Tess would take aim at a human form with the silver-tipped arrows he could now smell. Hunters rarely did.
“Are you coming out, or should I welcome you with a silver-coated handshake?” she challenged.
All hunters knew about the Were aversion to silver and a few other metals. Tess Owens seemed pretty confident about that aversion.
Blaming his comeback on his reaction to her voice, Jonas decided to oblige her request, at least in part.
He said, “Handshake? I wasn’t aware that you had social skills, Owens. People in town told me you rarely show your face there. To some of them, you’re more of a ghost than a neighbor.”
He wondered what that remark might do to her self-confidence and if it would shake her up in a way that might lead him to find a crack in her admirable armor.
“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,”
