The Wolf Watcher: Dark Return & Blood Dawn

Chapter 1

Two days later....

Elliot Blake blinked his bleary eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Shit. Had he drank so much he was hallucinating? If so, his pickled mind couldn't have come up with a more stunning, confounding vision. The hole-in-the-wall, small town Texas bar where he and his crew had landed for the night was a decent enough place to settle for a few hours while they tossed back some liquid therapy---and after the last assignment they'd taken, they's definitely needed it. Hell, they could have drowned themselves in whiskey and beers for days on end, and it wouldn't have been enough to wipe out the horror of what they'd seen in that little South American village.

So, yeah, the woman who'd just walked into the bar had to be a by-product of his inebriation. Only, as far as he could recall, he'd only had two whiskeys. For a man his size, even if he had been human, that wouldn't have been enough to make him start seeing...imagining....Damn it. He couldn't even get the words out within the privacy of his own mind.

Maybe it's a stress vision? I probably just need a break from my shitty day job.

Yeah, that was a better explanation than the alcohol, and extreme stress had been the riding theme of his life these past few weeks. Months. Years.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Elliot focused on forcing the vision away. He didn't need crap like that screwing with his head. Sure, he was going to have to face her soon enough, considering he and his men were headed back to the mountains where he'd grown up, to his hometown of Shadow Peak, where the Silvercrest Lycans lived. But he wasn't ready for it now. Not tonight. Facing Casey Reyes again after three years of banishment was something that would take battle armor and a heavy duty, steel-lined cup to protect his balls.

Fate, however, apparently didn't give a damn.

When the Lycan to his left softly swore under his breath, his deep voice rough with appreciation, Elliot choked back a biting curse. christ, he wasn't imagining things if others could see her too. she was really there. In the flesh. Casey-f*****g-Reyes. His next indrawn breath confirmed it, as his blood began to sizzle and his heart began to beat at rocket speed. The soft, sleepy moan that followed made him look down, and he was momentarily surprised to find a woman straddling his lap, he face planted against his chest. He'd completely forgotten she was there, but then, it'd been a while since she'd spoken. He couldn't recall her name, but she wasn't in any shape to remind him. She was out cold, a line of drool slipping from the corner of her pink lips.

Hmm, classy chick.

With a jerk of his chin, he signaled Kent Tate, his second-in-command and the guy who'd spotted Casey, to deal with the comatose blonde. But it wasn't the woman on his lap that had Kent's attention, his nostrils flaring as he pulled in the Watcher's scent. Elliot knew the moment his friend pegged her as a half-blood Lycan, his dark brows slowly rising on his forehead. Elliot gestured again to the blonde in his lap. "Take her."

Kyle snorted as he moved to his feet and lifted the woman in his arms. "And do what with her?"

Keeping his gaze locked on Casey, Elliot said, "Just make sure she gets somewhere safe for the night. I don't want any of these assholes in here to take advantage of her."

"She's definitely a local girl, so i'll talk to the servers. Maybe one of them can take her home with them."

"Good," he muttered, impatient for Kent to get the hell away from him before Casey reached the table. "Just do it."

Casey had spotted him in the crowd and was headed his way, her gaze sliding toward the nearby Lycans standing at the bar---Scott, Jonah and Lev---who were watching her with unmistakable interest. Even Kent, who had moved over to join them with the blonde in his arms, had his full attention focused on Casey. She looked exhausted, but gorgeous. At five-six, she was just tall enough that she didn't look like a child when standing beside a man Elliot's height, but was still...petite.

Lithely muscled and battle-scarred, but somehow still incredibly feminine. Brown eyes flecked with green and framed by thick lashes. Slim, delicate nose. Waves of thick, silky hair the colors of sunshine and honey and gold, the soft bangs falling across her brow. She was, quite simply, stunning. The most perfect, alluring, sensual female he'd ever known. From the moment she'd hit adulthood, this little half-breed had always drawn the hunger of both the man and the beast inside him. A hunger that was as visceral and dark as it was insatiable. How he'd fought it for so many years, when he'd been living with the pack, he didn't know. He should have been given a damn medal for not falling on her like a rabid, s*x-starved animal the instant she came of age---but he'd somehow kept himself under tight control, his fears for her safety the only thing that had a chance in hell of keeping him in line.

He'd been a goddamn saint when it came to Casey...until that last week before his banishment.

As if they were some kind of penance for his sins, the memories of her from that week still woke him in the dead of night in a sweat, filled with an aching need that was primal, savage and raw. So powerful he could taste it in the back of his throat. Here he was, three years later, and he still dreamt about her every night he didn't drink himself into a stupor.

Studying her expression, Elliot wondered if she was about to make him pay for the carnal things that had happened that week. Is that why she'd tracked him down? To tell him she'd rather see him dead before letting him return to the pack? Because that was definitely hatred he could see burning in her beautiful, narrowed eyes. Shoving his emotional reaction to her presence to the back of his mind, he focused instead on simply watching her....waiting. Eating up the sight of her in the tight jeans and t-shirt and battered hiking boots.

At a quick glance, you would never guess she was a hunter of deadly werewolves. Certainly, the clueless humans in the bar, who had no idea they had shape-shifters in their midst, would have never guessed she was both battle and weapons trained. The Silvercrest Lycans would be surprised to know that much of that training had come from Elliot himself, since it'd been in secret. Every aspect of their complicated 'friendship' had been private and secret as much as it was forbidden.

God, he'd been so drawn to her. Though he was older than her, she hadn't been a typical giddy twenty-two year old when their relationship had developed. She'd been sweet, but reserved. Eager for friends, and yet, wary to trust. But she'd trusted him. Past tense. Elliot had never told a soul about them, and he could only assume Casey had done the same. Though not for the same reasons.

He moved to his feet when she reached the table, fighting the powerful urge to pull her into his arms, and the next thing he knew, her tiny fist was launching toward his mouth. Whack! Damn, she'd hit him so hard it jerked his head back, the coppery taste of his blood instantly filling his mouth. Softly laughing under his breath, Elliot lifted his hand and wiped the blood from the corner oof his lip as he brought his gaze back to hers.

"What the hell is so funny?" Her soft words vibrated with fury.

"Nothing," he murmured, thinking he'd come close to getting what he wanted. Someone's blood had been drawn, not just hers. And not in the way he'd hoped for.

Contempt clouded her expression. "You never could give an honest answer to a question, could you?"

"Insults and accusations already?" he drawled, sliding back into his chair. The worst thing in the world he could do was let her know how the sight of her affected him, especially when he could feel his own angry frustration with fate and life and her blatant hatred building inside him, desperate for release. "That didn't take long."

She drew in a sharp breath at his snide tone, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took the seat across from him and asked a passing server for a scotch. It was clear from the look on her face that she hadn't meant to launch into the topic of their past. She was irritated with herself that she had, and seemed determined to get to the point of this strange, unexpected visit. "You know about your dad?"

"That he's dead?" He lifted a hand, rubbing his stubbled jaw. "Yeah, I heard about it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a painful mix of emotions flashed through her eyes before she managed to bank them. "And you didn't think to come home?" she asked in a careful tone.

Brows drawn together, he tried to reason out why she thought the death of his psychotic father would herald his immediate return. Had the entire pack thought he would come crawling back the moment he learned that dear ol' daddy staged a bloodthirsty coup that resulted in the death of the pack's entire governing body, the Council of Elders? An attack that would have led to Alaric Blake's total control of the Silvercrest Lycans, if not for the help of the half-breeds his racist father had tried so hard to turn the pack against.

The council mught have banished Elliot for the unsanctioned kill he'd made on one of the werewolves who attacked his sister three years ago...but they weren't the only reason he'd stayed away. Hell, they weren't even at the top of the list.

No, his reasons for staying away had far more to do with.....well, things he spent a lot of time trying not to think about. Things he was still trying to figure out how to deal with.

And every one of those things had to do with the woman sitting across from him.....