Chapter 6: Sawyer

You are turning into a stalker, I thought as I knelt to check the scent trail again. I'd been trying to convince myself otherwise for the last three miles.

After my questionable rescue of the girl in the woods yesterday, I'd trailed her home. It's not like I was turning into some sparkly, blood-sucker wannabe, who hung out staring into her room while she slept or something. Give me some credit. I just wanted to make sure she made it home okay and kept her word. As far as I knew, she had, and that should have been the end of it.

But she'd stayed with me. Or rather, what it felt like to be with her stayed with me. When I'd touched her, I felt calm for the first time in months. The bloodlust I'd been carrying around, that rage I'd been living with, finally took a break. And that really messed me up because that was not something that should happen from contact with a human girl. It freaked me out, and that's why I bolted from the clearing.

I spent half the night talking myself out of going back over to her house - on the grounds of that whole not being a stalker thing. Yet when I caught her scent on my run this morning, I couldn't help but follow. It lingered in my nose as I stared at the research station.

Not only was I a stalker, I was also going crazy. Because there was no way that this girl was hanging out in there with my father. Maybe my conscience was using the one positive thing I'd fixated on to fool me into doing the right thing by coming to help with Dad's research. I hadn't made up my mind on that front. It might seem too much like I was starting to get on board with The Plan after my rejection of summer school. Curiosity propelled me forward anyway. One way or the other, I had to know if my mind was playing tricks on me.

It was easy to slip in unnoticed, moving with my silent hunter's gait, up the steps, through the door.

And there she was. Impossibly sitting right there between Patrick and Abby, as if she was part of the research team.

My brain flashed back to the clearing, to the knife and the taste of fear that I wouldn't be able to stop her.

I gave myself a shake, trying to clear my head to address the more relevant question: What was she doing here? As I watched, she shifted in her seat, reaching over to rub a hand over her bandaged wrist. Then, as if she sensed I was standing there, she turned her head and met my eyes.

Her lips parted on a soft inhalation of surprise, and damn if that didn't make me wonder what she'd taste like.

Her eyes were a blue-gray with a darker blue ring around the iris. Witch eyes. The ones I couldn't stop thinking about. Yesterday they were filled with grief, today recognition and...anxiety? I had the urge to go to her, touch her, tell her it was gonna be okay. And what was that about? Not to mention that such a move in front of this audience would lead to a helluva lot of questions I didn't want to answer.

Everyone else shoved back from the table.

"Sawyer."

I jolted a little and shifted my attention to my father. "Sorry I'm late," I said.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," he said. His tone was pleased. That irritated me.

Whatever. I'd make the concession if it meant I finally got to meet this girl. Properly.

My eyes strayed back to Her. She was still watching me, but any traces of surprise had been replaced by polite curiosity.

So that's how you wanna play it. Never met before. Okay then.

"What'd I miss?" I moved over to the conference table, stepping out of the way as Abby and David headed to the other end of the trailer to start gathering gear.

"We've just been reviewing stuff you already know. We were about to head out into the field," said Dad.

I basically ignored him and turned to the girl. "You're new."

"Oh, right. This is Elodie Rose, our summer intern. Elodie, my son, Sawyer," he said absently, before turning to Patrick.

"Hi," she said, offering her hand.

I could smell some other guy on her and had to suppress a growl as I reached out to take it. "Nice to meet you, Elodie."

I curled my fingers gently around hers, clasping instead of shaking. God her hand was tiny. She frowned when I turned it over and brushed two fingers lightly over the bandage on her wrist. Her pupils sprang wide and the pulse beneath my fingertips jumped and skittered, which was awesome in the instant before the sudden scent of fear. I felt like a total jackass.

She seemed to relax a fraction as soon as I let her go, but I could still see the pulse pounding in her throat. She wanted to run. The desire to escape was clearly etched in every inch of her body. But she didn't move, a fact that I both admired and appreciated, given that my natural instinct as a predator would have been to give chase, which wouldn't have helped things at all.

"Sawyer, you and Elodie will go with Patrick over to Tremont to do some exploring of the original release area there. Abby, David, and I will check out Cades Cove."

"Yes, sir." I spoke quietly, not wanting to spook Elodie any more than I already had.

Dad shot me a look, as if wondering why I was suddenly noncombative, but I ignored him and headed for the equipment closet.