Chapter 6

      Jonas smiled at his sister. “Sorry, Gwen. Did I wake you?”

      She eyed him thoughtfully.

      “It’s okay,” he said. “You can rest.”

      Gwen didn’t move from the doorway. Her gaze moved past him, heading for the window.

      Jonas looked out. “Has something else disturbed you?”

      He felt the quake that ran through his sister from where he stood and turned to look at her.

      “What is it? What do you see?”

      If ever there was a time for Gwen to speak, Jonas would have liked that time to be now. But she didn’t oblige and continued to stare at the window as if expecting someone to show up.

      He didn’t like this. Didn’t like the lack of expression on Gwen’s young face as she waited for whatever she thought was out there to come knocking.

      Gwen might be tapping into other special powers that he had no knowledge of, but would that include an awareness of the presence of things no one else could see?

      Chills dripped down Jonas’s back, taking their time, hitting every vertebra one by one. He had a really bad feeling.

      “I can’t read your mind,” he said. “You’ll need to tell me what I need to know.”

      When Gwen’s head tilted to the side as if she were listening to sounds other than his latest request, a cascade of pale hair slipped to cover half of her face. Her hair had been brown once, like his, before the attack that had rendered her speechless. Brown, straight and shiny. Massive injuries had instigated the change in this pretty teen and nothing could alter that.

      Gwen was disturbed as she looked outside, and her inner distress was contagious. Jonas liked to believe he was still close enough to his sister to understand a few things, but until she decided to speak, he needed another way to find out what was going on.

      “Gwen,” he said, hoping to get her attention. “I’m trying to protect you. Please help me do that.”

      Her gaze traveled to him before again bypassing him in favor of the window. Feeling helpless, Jonas placed himself in front of the glass.

      “What do you see?” he asked, his concern growing. Gwen’s skin had begun to ripple the way his skin did when a shape-shift was imminent.

      Jonas held up a hand. “No. Stop, Gwen. Now isn’t the time. It isn’t safe. We aren’t alone out here. Our neighbor knows what we are.”

      That last statement was only partially true, Jonas amended inwardly. Tess might know about him, but as for Gwen...

      Gwen was something Tess Owens had no idea existed and would label a nightmare if she did.

      His sister now had claws—ten short white claws nearly as colorless as her hair. She had become hyperaware of an issue she considered a problem and couldn’t fill him in.

      “Shit,” Jonas muttered without daring to go to her, fearing that too much protesting might set her off in ways he wouldn’t be able to corral.

      Gwen sidestepped him with a graceful move and joined him at the window. She pressed her face to the glass and ran her claws down the wooden frame hard enough to leave visible tracks in the finish.

      Jonas took hold of one of her wrists and turned Gwen around to face him. He adopted a stern tone when repeating his last warning, hoping a repeat of the same stuff would get through to her.

      “No, Gwen. Now isn’t the time.”

      She raised her chin and looked directly into his eyes. What Jonas saw in those eyes frightened him more than the idea of what might eventually be out there somewhere.

      And then he heard what Gwen must have heard: the echo of a distant voice.

      “Whatever the hell this thing was is heading your way.”

      The effort of absorbing that warning required Jonas to turn for the door.

      * * *

      Though she hadn’t meant to move, Tess found herself running.

      Curiosity had gotten the better of her as to what that engulfing blackness had been, and yet she wasn’t a fool. Her property line would be the stalling point in going after it. She just wanted to see that thing again to make sure she hadn’t made it up. After all, not much about tonight had been usual. The wolf next door had seen to that.

      And okay, maybe she was a fool for falling for his line about being needed elsewhere and about being a good guy. She found it difficult to explain the leniency of her actions and his. The damn Lycan’s face had been painted in her mind ever since.

      It was in her mind now as she sprinted over the rocky ground in her bare feet, ignoring the discomfort, feeling lighter without her boots. The flimsy tank and shorts she slept in wouldn’t help her fend off claws if she bumped into that Lycan and his friends, but she didn’t think she would meet them. There was no sense of that Were’s closeness in spite of all that imagined telepathic mumbo jumbo. She just needed a better view of the fields.

      Nevertheless, her heart hammered inside her chest, pushing adrenaline to the right places to fuel her muscles. The chill she had felt several minutes ago melted away as rising body heat took over.

      It didn’t take her long to reached the crest of the hill where she had encountered the Were. Stopping, Tess waited in silence with her eyes trained on the valley beneath the rocky ledge. No new anomaly stood out as far as she could see, and yet she couldn’t shake the return of an inexplicable undercurrent of dread.

      And then she saw something down there. It wasn’t a moving black curtain or the Were she had encountered earlier. This thing moved like the wind, like a white missile, close to the ground and heading straight for Tess’s home turf.

      It was the white wolf. The Lycan’s pet.

      Without hesitating to watch that ghostly apparition in action, Tess turned and retraced her steps, heading for home, clutching the knife in her hand and hoping to beat that animal there.

      When she got to her fence, she found the place quiet. Nothing moved or jumped out at her, but she still felt a wolf’s presence. Inching toward the gate by walking backward, Tess scanned the yard.

      “I know you’re here.”

      Those words had become her mantra lately and seemed terribly inadequate for tonight’s level of activity.

      “Cat got your tongue?” she asked with her heart banging against her ribs.

      Cool air swirled around her as she waited. No big, hunky Lycan stepped out of the shadows. No rolling mass of darkness descended. Her only visitor could be the four-legged animal she had seen running in the valley—the real wolf she had seen loping along in the Lycan’s wake.

      “No use hiding,” she said, hoping to lure that wolf out of the shadows, though it was, she supposed, silly to think that an animal could understand human speech.

      The wolf emerged from beneath the trees as if it had understood her request, moving just far enough out of the shadows for Tess to see the brilliance of its silver-white coat in the moonlight.