The Wolf Watcher

Chapter1

Eighteen hours later........

Fear sat on the tip of Olivia's tongue, as bitter as aspirin waiting to be swallowed. It possessed a sharp, acidic flavor that made her mouth water in the way that it does when you're about to be sick, while her eyes burned with a stinging wash of gathering tears. She willed them back with the sheer stubborn force of her will, reminding herself again and again that Dunnings weren't the ones to cower. Raised in the superstition-rich environment of the Louisiana Bayou, she'd grown up with whispered tales of ghosts and goblins, vampires and werewolves.

Yes, she'd always been a believer, even if she'd never seen proof of paranormal creatures that most humans consigned to the realm of fiction and fantasy. But now the veil between the two worlds had been lifted. Two weeks ago, she and her brother Max, had learned the truth about the secret that resided in the eastern mountains just a few hours' drive west of their home in Covington, Maryland. Werewolves did indeed live among us. Some good. Some bad. Some so evil, they were more monsters than men. And then there were others who were truly heroes. Dark, dangerous and tortured ones, yes----but undoubtedly heroic.

Olivia's best friend, Tori Watson, had fallen in love with one such hero: Matt Dillon, a man who was half human-half Lycan. Matt was one of the select breed of hunters known as Wolf Watchers who were committed to hunting down and exterminating the rogue Lycans who'd begun murdering humans. Because of their half-human bloodlines, the Watchers lived separately from their Silvercrest pack they protected, in a place named Watcher Alley.

The Dunnings had been under Watcher protection ever since a rogue werewolf had made a move on Tori's life. And while Olivia didn't care for the lack of privacy, Walt Alton and Casey Reyes---the team assigned to their protection---had become friends with both her and Max. She had been thankful for their watchful eyes, especially for her brother's sake. Yes, she could accept the existence of werewolves. She'd even begun to embrace a few of them as part of her family. But tonight, terror consumed her.

Beneath the wraithlike streams of silvery moonlight, the autumn wind whistled past her ears, reminding her of a specter imparting secrets, the cool frost of its voice chilling against her skin. Shivering, she inhaled deeply through her nose, searching for the fresh scents of the surrounding forest. Pinesap and juniper and the moist smell of soil. Like a frightened child grasping at a frayed security blanket, she needed the familiarity of those things to ground her in a world that had tilted on its axis, knocking her off balance---but all she could find was the acrid stench of aggression. Feral and thick, the heavy scent closed around her like a physical vise, banding her chest, making it difficult to draw enough air into her lungs.

Even as an outsider in this ominous setting, she understood instinctively what the menacing energy permeating the night signified. They were ready---the Silvercrest pack's anticipation ripe for the ceremony that would soon begin.

Hold it together. Do not fall apart.

Willing her backbone to keep her upright, Olivia focused on the towering blaze of a roaring bonfire that rose from the far side of the clearing, its orange flames burning with maniacal zeal against the ink-black curtain of the night sky. Not a star shone in the eastern sky. Only the moon burned in the darkness of the heavens, its yellowed mass seeming to reflect the fiery glow of the sinister flames. The mountains were silent but for the low, nearby noises that filled her ears, more animal-like than human. This was Silvercrest pack land, and the werewolves were tired of waiting. Olivia kept her gaze fixed on the fire, aware that many of the Lycans had already shifted into their preternatural shapes, their fur-covered bodies standing like monstrous shadows at the edges of the forest as they waited with restless expectancy.

If not for her friends, she'd have thought she was in hell. But she wasn't alone, thank God. Matt stood to her left, while Tori moved in closer on her right and grabbed her hand, squeezing her icy fingers in support as the wind surged around them, rattling the autumn leaves upon the gnarled branches of the trees, scattering others in the ravaging gusts. It still seemed astonishing that her best friend, who'd always been wary of the supernatural, had married a man who could howl at the moon, but Olivia liked Matt, as well as respected him. And there was no denying that the gorgeous half-breed was head over heels in love with his red-headed wife.

"Everything's going to be okay," Tori murmured, the tone of her voice soothing, as if gentling a cornered animal. "Matt won't let anything happen to Max, I promise."

Okay? she thought, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill once more from her raw, swollen eyes. How was that even possible? Her nineteen-year-old brother had been attacked by a rogue werewolf---a Lycan who preyed upon humans for food. Max had been bitten in the attack, which meant he was no longer a human, but a breed of creature that existed between the two worlds of man and beast, much like the Watchers themselves.

Last night it had been Casey's turn to wait at the hospital while Max worked his shift as a security guard. Olivia had been enjoying a relaxing evening at home after a long day at her store, when Casey called to let her and Walt know that Max had taken his car and disappeared in the middle of making his rounds. Olivia couldn't think of any possible reason that Max would do such a thing---unless it had something to do with Sophia Dawson. And she'd been right. Sophia was an eighteen-year-old Lycan who'd discovered the gruesome murder of a female human the week before. She'd spent a few days at their home, before returning to her parent's house in Shadow Peak, the town at the top of the mountain. Max and Sophia had become fast friends, despite Olivia's warnings that her brother should be cautious. Sophia was mixed up with a wild party crowd down in Covington, and the last thing Olivia wanted was to see her brother become involved in an unhealthy relationship. She didn't care that Sophia was a werewolf---but she did care that the teenager was heavily involved in the local drug scene. In fact, she suspected it was Sophia's troubled lifestyle that had drawn Max to her in the first place. He'd always been a champion of the underdog, willing to take on everyone's worries as his own. Olivia loved that his heart was so generous, but she also worried that it would eventually land him in trouble---which is exactly what had happened.

After Casey's call, Walt had contacted the other Watchers and a search of the city had been immediately set into action. Then Grant Carter had arrived on her doorstep with his heartbreaking news.

"Max is still alive," he'd said to her and Walt in gritty, clipped tones. "Sophia showed up at Shadow Peak with him about half an hour ago. They're trying to get the story out of her, but she's pretty hysterical. Seems she called Max from a concert, scared that she and her girlfriends were being followed. Says Max told her he knew Casey wouldn't let him into that part of town, so he slipped out a back entrance at the hospital, grabbed his car and met up with them. He talked Sophia into coming back home with him, but before they could make it back to his car, they were attacked. The only thing that saved their lives was an accident that happened up the street. When he heard the approaching sirens, the rogue fled and the girls were able to get Max into his car. Sophia panicked and drove him straight to her parent's house. They notified the Elders and he was taken into custody."

Olivia had stood there feeling dead inside, a great roaring wave of pain ripping through her body, while Walt had talked with the scowling Watcher. Then Grant had left as quickly as he came, leaving Walt to explain that Max would be kept in a holding cell in Shadow Peak, where he would be watched by guards until his first shift into a werewolf, which usually came the second night after an attack. Once the signs of an impending change were noted, a Novaris ceremony would be called.

Walt had driven her up to Watcher Alley, a picturesque glade that sat several miles south of Shadow Peak on the mountain. The Alley held cabins where the Watchers lived, and she'd spent the rest of the night with Tori and Matt. The wait for nightfall during the long, torturous day had been a living hell---but the call warning them that the ceremony would soon begin had finally come. They'd immediately set off for the clearing, which sat equidistant between Shadow Peak and the Alley.

And now, it was time.