He didn't blame Carly's family for turning against him. They were heartbroken over her death. He'd felt the same way for years. Heartbroken and guilty, for there was a kernel of truth to the family's claim. Their daughter had died because of him. She'd become an unwitting pawn in Rhett Bleddyn's game of revenge.
He had found little solace in believing he'd killed Rhett. The bastard had found the perfect way to torture him by making him feel responsible for Carly's death.
But now the truth was out. Rhett Bleddyn was still alive.
And the game was back on. Unfortunately Rhett had the hometown advantage. Recently acknowledged as the Pack Master of all of Alaska, he had hundreds of werewolves on his team. Howard could only call on a few were-bears from their dwindling island community. What he lacked in manpower, he had to make up for with superior timing and strategy.
Speaking of timing, it was about time for the two men climbing up the mountainside to finally reach him. The scent of werewolf wafted toward him, and Howard instinctively squeezed his fist around the carved wooden hiking stick he'd borrowed from his grandfather. The staff was thick enough to use as a weapon and about six foot four inches long, ending right at his eye level.
He relaxed his grip. This werewolf was one of the few Lycans he called friend. Werewolves always assumed they had the most advanced sense of smell, but that was one area where a were-bear had them beat. He could distinguish Phil's scent over two miles away. Not that Phil normally smelled differently from other werewolves. It was the influence of his wife, Vanda, that made him unique. She had him using some kind of fancy shampoo and conditioner.
Phil had obviously caught Howard's scent and was tracking him down. What the werewolf might not realize was that Howard wanted to be found tonight. It was all part of the strategy.
Phil's companion was a little harder to figure out. The lack of any strong scent indicated a vampire. The smell of damp sheep suggested a kilt-wearing Scotsman who'd been caught in a light rain. But which Scottish vampire? Was Angus so pissed that he'd come in person?
They were moving quietly up the mountain path, as if they could sneak up on a were-bear. The thought made Howard smile. There was no mistaking the soft swish of a kilt or the grinding of Phil's boots.
Not Angus, he decided. Phil was taking the lead, and he wouldn't do that if the boss was with him. Ian or Robby? Or maybe it was Connor, resuming his work after a long honeymoon.
Howard's smile faded. All of the guys were getting married, having children. That sort of domestic bliss was unlikely to happen for him. There were a few female were-bears on the island, but they were either taken or related to him.
His gaze drifted back to the rocks where Carly had died twenty years ago. She had trusted him completely, even after he'd confessed to her that he was a were-bear. Since her, he hadn't met another mortal female he had felt he could trust with his secret.
There had been a time when the pain and guilt of Carly's death had nearly crippled him. All through college and his football career he'd allowed himself to suffer as a way to punish himself. But as the years went by, his burden of guilt slowly changed. Instead of feeling guilty for wanting to forget, he now felt guilty that he could barely recall her face. How cruel life was that she had paid the price for Rhett Bleddyn's rage.
Death was too good for Rhett. Howard wanted to watch the sick bastard squirm. He'd have to go about it secretly and stealthily in order to keep his people safe, but with the proper strategy, he felt confident about pulling it off. And if he avenged Carly, then maybe he could finally lay his guilt to rest. He'd been banished for long enough.
A cool breeze swept up from Mishenka Bay, and he closed his eyes to focus fully on the scent - a glorious mixture of salty sea and lush forest. Home. He took a deep breath to let the comforting fragrance seep into his soul, and a new face formed in his mind. Elsa. Beautiful Elsa. She was invading his thoughts more and more each day. Unfortunately that only proved that no matter how clever a strategist he tried to be, he was still a fool.
Elsa Bjornberg was a celebrity, a breathtaking, gut-wrenching beauty, who traveled the world for her successful career. Why would she want to meet some guy from an obscure island in Mishenka Bay, Alaska? Especially a guy who was oversized and turned into a real bear on occasion. The cold reality was that they would never meet. He'd known months ago that his obsession with her was ridiculous. Pathetic. Juvenile. It was embarrassing, so he kept it secret.
And yet, whenever he saw her on television, he felt drawn to her. Not just mildly attracted but somehow irrevocably attached to her. It didn't make sense, but knowing that didn't make the strange feeling go away.
The soft scuffle of a footstep behind him made him stiffen. Holy crap, he'd allowed himself to get distracted. He masked his reaction by swinging the staff up and across his shoulders, gripping each end with his hands.
With his back to them, he listened carefully as he gazed up at the moon, a dull silver disc shrouded in clouds. It would be full tomorrow night. If everything went according to plan, he'd score a touchdown. "Hello, Phil."
There was a moment of silence, then a whoosh of air as Phil Jones exhaled. "How did you know it was me? Alaska is overrun with werewolves."
"They don't use that fancy, girly shampoo." Howard smiled when he heard a low growl in response.
A slight mechanical click emanated from the vampire behind him. Could it be Dougal Kincaid? The Vamp had lost his right hand in combat a few years ago, and Roman had recently fitted him with a mechanical one.
"Dougal?" Howard turned, widening his smile when he saw he'd been correct. "It's good to see you again. You arrived last night?"
The Scotsman tilted his head, studying him. "Someone told you?"
"No. It rained last night, and your kilt smells like wet sheep."
Dougal's mouth curled with amusement. "Ye're in trouble with Angus, ye ken."
"Not enough trouble, if he only sent two of you."
"Believe me, he's pissed," Phil grumbled, then shoved his long, shaggy hair back over his shoulders. "It's cheaper to use the same shampoo that my wife buys."
"I understand." Howard gave him a sympathetic smile. "I won't mention it again since you're so . . . sensitive about it."
Phil's eyes narrowed.
Dougal chuckled. "We have orders to take you back to Romatech immediately."
Howard nodded, still smiling. "Good luck with that."
Phil snorted. "What the hell are you up to, Howard?"
"I thought you'd never ask. I need more players on my team."
"Team?" Dougal asked. "Ye're playing a game?"
"Yes. It's called Payback. It'll be easier to score if I have a few more hands." Howard slanted a wry look at the Vamp's fake right hand. "No offense."
"None taken." Dougal wiggled the fingers on his mechanical hand. "Ye'd be surprised what I can do."
"Tell it to the ladies." Howard motioned to Phil. "Are you in?"
"If you're getting back at Rhett Bleddyn, then yeah, I'm in. Angus can wait."
Dougal scoffed. "Now there are two of you no' following orders. Angus will be royally pissed."
"Maybe not," Phil argued. "He knows what an ass**le Rhett is. The guy tried to force my sister into marriage. He was going to kill off my entire family and steal all our land and followers. He's a power-hungry, ruthless bastard."
Dougal nodded, then turned to Howard. "I can see why Phil wants revenge, but what do ye have against him?"
Howard remained silent, then swung his staff off his shoulders and planted one end in the gravelly dirt next to his feet. "I have my reasons. Are you in?"
Dougal's hand produced a series of clicks as he curled the fingers into a fist, then stretched them back out. "What is the purpose of yer game? Are ye wanting to kill Bleddyn?"
"Do I look like a murderer?" Howard frowned when the two guys exchanged glances. "Okay. You've seen me kill, but only in battle."
"You're ferocious," Phil muttered. "You rip heads off with a single swipe."
"So I'm efficient," Howard grumbled, then smiled. "No one has ever complained about my efficiency before."
Phil snorted. "We're just relieved you're on our side."
Howard's mouth twitched. "Are you sure about that?"
Phil stiffened. "You big lummox, why don't you - "