Eternal Hunter (Night Watch #1)(2)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“And you are…?”

“Assistant District Attorney Erin Jerome.” Gritted out. Why was there blood all over Bobby? If something happened and this case got thrown out—

“Not the question I was asking.” Bland as you please. That brow was still up.

Her lips parted. “What?” No way could he have meant—

His eyes swept over her again, and a smile lifted his lips. “Interesting.”

Right then, the only interesting thing she saw was Bobby. A lie. But she’d always been good at lying to herself. And about herself. “What. Happened?”

Another shrug. “He slipped in the swamp. Fell on some branches.”

It was Erin’s turn to let her eyes drift over him. Drift over his too-wide shoulders and muscled chest. “Is that your blood?”

she asked quietly. “Or his?”

“Little of both.”

A headache began to pound behind her left eye. Erin grabbed on to her patience and held tight.

What was the guy’s deal? Was he the crazy one?

“Uh, Ms. Jerome?” It was the uniform to her right. “You want us to go ahead and take Burrows to processing?”

Erin shook her head. She’d been listening to the police radio, hoping for some word on Bobby. The guy had vanished less than an hour after posting bail—she still didn’t know what the idiot judge had been thinking. She’d been desperate for some word on the sadistic jerk, and then, like a sweet gift from Fate, she’d caught the news of his capture.

She’d almost flown down to Burns Swamp. “Take him to the hospital. Get him patched up.” She pointed at the cop. “Do not let him leave your sight for even a second, understand? Bail’s revoked. Once the docs give the ok, haul his ass back to jail.”

Hopefully, he’d stay locked up for the rest of his miserable days.

The uniform, Ray Neal—she’d met him twice before—gave a nod. He and his partner climbed into the car, then drove away, taking her criminal with them.

And leaving her alone with the hunter.

“Wanna answer my question?” His voice was deep, rumbling.

Goosebumps rose on her bare arms, and it was far too warm for her to have a chill from the weather.

“Just what question was that?” She tilted her head to the right.

“Who are you?” A pause. “What are you?”

She let her brow furrow. She’d fooled Other before, she could do it again. “I’m really not sure I understand. I told you, I’m Assistant District Attorney—”

“You don’t smell human.”

Her breath caught on a gasp. No, he hadn’t just said—

He stepped toward her, a fast move that brought their bodies too close. Jude leaned in, lowering his head over the curve of her throat. And inhaled.

“Stop!” She shoved him, hard, and watched with no small satisfaction as he stumbled back.

Oh, yeah, big guy, I’m much, much stronger than I appear. He wasn’t the first one to learn that little lesson.

She almost bared her teeth at him. Almost.

After all, she wasn’t an animal. No matter what the whispers back home said.

“I don’t know just what you think you were doing,” she snapped, glaring at him as she narrowed her eyes. “But you’d better watch what you do and what you say around me.” Was the guy crazy? You don’t smell human. He couldn’t say things like that.

The words were too dangerous.

She reached into her purse. Dug out her card. “Call my office. My assistant will take care of any paperwork you’ve got.”

He stared at her a moment longer. Then, slowly, his tanned fingers rose. Long fingers, callused. Strong. He took the card, and his fingertips brushed over her hand.

Erin didn’t flinch and she was extremely proud of that fact.

“Good work, Donovan.” After giving him that grudging token of appreciation, she nodded and began to march back toward her car.

She’d taken all of five steps when she heard his whistle. Long, loud, and very appreciative.

Erin stilled.

I really don’t need this shit.

“I’ve got your scent.” Hard words. Scary words. Because she knew what they meant.

If Jude Donovan truly was a shifter, and every instinct she had screamed that he was, then having her scent, well, it meant he had her. He’d be able to follow her, to find her, almost anywhere.

A shifter. What were the odds she’d stumble onto him?

One of the little perks in the Other world—the world full of supernaturals and nightmares, the world that, rather unfortunately, was her life—was that like recognized like. Demons, because, yeah, those conniving bastards were real, could

“see” others of their breed. They could look right past the magic glamour and peer into the darkness inside.

Witches felt the power pull from their brethren.

And shifters, well, they could smell each other—a distinct scent. One that carried the wisp of power and the scent of the beast.

Jude Donovan smelled of power. Of wild, strong man. Of savagery. No denying that scent.

As for the beast…she didn’t need the marks on Bobby’s face to know Donovan had claws.

Erin began to walk again. One determined step after another.

And even when she climbed into her car, she could feel his eyes on her. Watching and seeing too much.

Now, she’d have to be extra careful to stay on her guard and not let the hunter discover the secrets she kept so carefully hidden.

“What the hell happened to you?” Dee Daniels asked the minute Jude strode past the rather unassuming entrance of Night Watch’s Louisiana branch. She stood quickly, her blond hair cut brutally short around her elfin face. There was envy in her eyes as she stared at him with her lips slightly parted. “You lucky bastard, you took prey down, didn’t you?”

Jude grunted and rolled his shoulder. He’d shifted before coming into the agency. A fast, hard shift to speed up the healing process. His kind were blessed with a freaking phenomenal recovery system. Some shifters were lucky, they could heal almost instantly from their wounds. Others took a few days for a full recovery. It all depended on the power of the beast inside.

Because he was a very rare shifter breed, Jude was on the luckier end of the spectrum. He could heal fully in hours.

Yeah, he’d have a scar because the system wasn’t that perfect. More like he had his own little micro surgeon inside, stitching him back up. Soon, all that would remain of the jagged hole would be a slim line of raised flesh—once the skin melded itself back together.