by Emma Castle
He forcibly escorted her outside to a waiting Range Rover. “To find Thorne’s other family before he and Somerset arrive. It’s time I paid my respects to the apes who took that little brat in.”
Keza! Oh God! No!
Holt opened the door to the Range Rover and shoved her inside. Two other vehicles were behind them as they left. Eden saw signs that said they were leaving Fort Portal, and she knew they would have to travel south to reach Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. Holt had at least a dozen armed men with him. Thorne was just one man. Even with Cameron and Isabelle, the numbers weren’t good. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, trying to calm herself.
When she opened them again, she had a new sense of clarity. She wouldn’t let Holt hurt Keza, Akika, or the others, even if it meant her losing her own life. There was no other choice. Thorne had only one mother left, and Eden wouldn’t let this monster take her from him.
It took a day to fly from London to Entebbe and drive in a car that Cameron rented to Bwanbale’s village. Thorne hadn’t wanted to bring his friend into this, but Bwanbale knew the forest almost as well as he did, and if he was to leave his aunt, uncle and Lofty behind, Bwanbale would watch over them.
As they exited the vehicle on the edge of the village, Cameron instructed Isabelle and Lofty to stay by the car. Then Thorne and his uncle proceeded into the village. Afiya was in the garden in front of her shamba, a basket on one hip as she plucked vegetables from the vines of the plants growing on circular wires.
“Thorne!” She dropped the basket and ran to embrace him. “Where’s Miss Eden?” She smiled at him, but her joy soon faded as she looked deeper into his eyes. He held Afiya gently by her arms, glad to see her again, but not under these circumstances.
“She’s been taken. I must speak to Bwanbale.”
“Oh! Yes, yes, of course. Please come inside.” She collected her basket from the ground and rushed indoors.
Bwanbale must have heard the commotion, because he came to the front of the house even as they came inside.
“Thorne.” Bwanbale spoke in solemn greeting, and they embraced. “We meet under grave circumstances, yes?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Cameron held out a hand. “I’m Cameron Haywood. Thorne’s uncle. Eden was kidnapped while she and Thorne were with us in England.”
“Kidnapped? But why return here?”
“The man who took her is the man who killed my parents. He wants me to help him find the cave.”
Bwanbale rubbed a hand along his jaw, and he was silent a long moment. “Who is the man?”
“Archibald Holt,” Cameron said.
Thorne saw at once that Bwanbale was familiar with the name when his friend’s eyes widened. “You know him.”
“I know of him. Holt Enterprises. He employs many men, some local, some foreign. He is a man who pays well, and he hires those who are willing to do anything for money. We have a dangerous battle ahead of us.”
Thorne put a hand on Bwanbale’s shoulder. “You should stay here. Your family needs you. But if we fail, you must tell the embassy what happened to us. He cannot go free.”
His friend smiled grimly. “Thorne, my friend, you will not go into the jungle alone. I will be at your side.”
Thorne could hear a faint whisper stirring inside his head, like dried leaves rustling along the ground. Bwanbale would come. It was as it should be.
Afiya appeared at her husband’s side, a rifle gripped in her hands. She pressed it into his palms and curled an arm around his neck to hold him close. “Say goodbye to Dembe,” she reminded him.
He nodded to his wife and went to his daughter.
“I will bring him home,” Thorne promised Afiya.
She wiped her eyes and offered a weak smile. “I know you will, jungle man.” She hugged Thorne as Bwanbale returned. Thorne, Cameron, and Bwanbale then joined Lofty and Isabelle near the rented SUV.
“You have weapons?” Bwanbale asked Thorne.
“We do.” He opened the back of the car to show three rifles.
“I think we need another gun,” Lofty said. “Thorne, old boy, you have no weapon.”
Thorne flashed a dark look at Lofty. “I am the weapon.”
Eden followed Holt through the forest. A rope was knotted around her waist, keeping her tied to him. Twelve men followed behind in a single column as they began the ascent into the mist-shrouded mountains. Eden wiped at the gathering sweat on her brow as the heat began to build. She managed not to trip when Holt moved too fast at times and pulled her sharply forward by the rope.
The tall forest of bamboo proved more difficult to navigate, since she had to be careful not to tangle the rope. Holt moved almost as easily through the jungle as Thorne. Eden realized it was because he had spent almost as much time here as Thorne had. He knew the jungle, knew the dangers, knew the lay of the land. Escape would be almost impossible, assuming she could find a way to get free of the rope.
They were nearly at the site of the wreck when the rain began, and the mist coiled around their feet in growing clouds like ghostly anacondas. Eden thought that some of the landscape was starting to look familiar. Any minute now they would be near the spot where the Cessna had gone down. Thankfully, Holt had found gorilla nests empty. Eden had breathed a sigh of relief each time he’d cursed when they’d found an empty nest site.
The parrots flying above her were singing shrill warning cries, and for a second, she swore she could understand them. It wasn’t so much words as it was visions inside her head.
She could see herself and Holt from far above in the trees, as though she were a parrot. Eden pursed her lips together and began to whistle. She’d never been very good at it, but somehow she was able to emit a birdlike call. She imitated their warning song, and the birds took flight in a sudden panicked flutter.
Holt seemed almost as in tune with the forest as Thorne at this moment but rather than being at peace with it, he seemed determined to rule it. He stilled, watching the birds madly scattering above them. The warning cries spread to the monkeys in the canopy. Eden continued to whistle until Holt spun with an open palm, striking her across the face. Pain flashed inside her head, and she went down with a grunt.
“Make a sound again . . . ,” he warned in a snarl. He gripped her left arm and jerked her savagely back to her feet.
Holt pulled a pistol out of his canvas backpack and started walking again. Eden clutched her right cheek, her head throbbing as she tried to keep up with him.
A flash of darkness moving ahead of them caught her eye, and Holt’s. He held up a hand, and the line of mercenaries behind her all stopped. Eden held her breath as a soft hooting echoed around them. A welcoming sound.
Oh no. They can’t be here. Not now . . .
Eden coughed loudly. It was a human noise, but she hoped it would catch the attention of the band hidden around them. Though Holt didn’t move, she could feel the force of his anger at her.
A gorilla emerged from the forest ahead of them. Thorne had called him Sunya, the silverback male who ruled the band. Holt stared for a long moment at the gorilla. Man and beast faced each other down in an ancient ritual that was a prelude to every battle ever fought, but it was a battle that didn’t need to be.
“Please,” Eden whispered. “Don’t hurt them.” She moved a step closer to Holt. “They won’t hurt you. Not if I’m here.”
Without looking at her, he said, “They are in my way. The only way forward is to destroy them.”
“You don’t have to destroy them to get what you want.” All Holt saw was the gleam of gold and the glitter of diamonds, and the power they would bring him. Eden knew a man like him would never have enough to be satisfied.
Sunya stood on his back legs and beat his chest with balled fists, a warning that Holt couldn’t ignore. He raised his gun, pointing it at the gorilla.
Eden had half a second to make a decision, but it was no decision, really. She threw herself at Holt, hitting him low around the waist and causing the
m both to fall to the ground.
“Bitch!” Holt snarled.
Sunya let out a sound of rage and charged Holt. From the bushes around him more males joined him. The men behind her and Holt opened fire upon the gorillas rushing out from the misty forest. Eden screamed, and Holt rolled her beneath him, but rather than shoot her, he fired his gun above her. Eden tilted her head back and saw Sunya halt, stagger a few steps, and fall to the ground.
“No!” She surged up and punched Holt as hard as she could. He grunted, and she reached for the gun. All around them were the screams of men and gorillas, fighting and dying.
One, she recognized with horror, was Akika. He lay on his side, breathing in wheezing gasps. Bullet wounds pierced his chest. Eden couldn’t breathe. Thorne’s brother was dying. The sight of him reaching out toward her with one hand shattered her heart and drove her to a blind rage. She wrestled free of Holt and kicked him in the side again and again. He rallied and countered her, knocking her to her stomach, but she was up on her feet again, lashing out with her fists. She would avenge Akika and his band.
A distant roar vibrating with the force of an earthquake, shook the jungle around them into silence. She knew that sound. Guns stopped firing, and even the gorillas paused in their attack.
“What the hell was that?” one of the men asked.
Holt then looked at Eden, his gun raised to her chest. “You know who it is, don’t you?”
Eden wiped her mouth, her hand coming away with blood. “I do. And he’s coming for you.”
Holt cursed. “Forget the gorillas. We need to get to the plane.” He grabbed Eden’s arm. “It’s time I set the bait.”
As though Thorne had heard Holt’s words, another echoing call rippled through the jungle.
Keza clutched her grandson to her chest, panting hard as the females and the surviving juvenile males fled from danger. Her heart was breaking as it had the day she’d seen Mukisa’s lifeless body all those many seasons ago.
Here she was again, rescuing another infant who’d been robbed of his last parent. Akika’s mate had been killed by a leopard some time ago. Now the infant had only her. She slung the child up on her back, and his tiny black fists gripped her fur. She led the band north, seeking safety.
When she heard Thorne’s roar, she knew Akika would be avenged. The child of her heart had returned, and he would stop this black cloud of evil. Keza had seen Thorne’s mate fight, trying to save her son and the others. Keza hoped that someday she would again meet the child of her heart and his brave mate.
Until then, she and the other gorillas would hide in the mist.
19
Thorne froze in the dense vegetation as the cries of birds reached his ears. All around him the jungle was screaming in terror at the presence of danger.
“What is it?” Cameron asked. He and Bwanbale stood shoulder to shoulder behind Thorne.
“Thorne hears the jungle in a way no one else does,” Bwanbale whispered.
“Eden,” Thorne said. “The birds see her. Holt has her, and many men are with him. They’re heading northeast.”
“Toward Ntungamo?” Bwanbale asked. “That is a city past the forest.”
“No, they are headed toward the white rock—the plane crash. But first they must pass the falls.”
“Falls?” Cameron asked. “I didn’t see any waterfalls on the map, except Murchison Falls much farther north.”
“There are things in the jungle no mapmaker has ever seen,” Bwanbale explained. Isabelle and Lofty followed, along with Cameron and Bwanbale, as they all traveled behind Thorne, but he was moving swiftly, and it was hard to keep up. The birds’ warning had scared him. They had spoken of death. Then the quiet of the jungle was shattered by gunshots not far away.
“Bloody Christ!” Lofty exclaimed and checked his rifle. “I really do wish we had more guns. Sounds like those bastards are well armed.”
“Lofty, I quite agree,” Isabelle muttered. “But we didn’t have time. We could only grab what we had stored at the hunting lodge.”
“Three guns? You can’t have a decent hunting party with three guns,” Lofty muttered.
Thorne broke into their talk by letting loose a deafening roar so that Eden would know he was coming. Then he started to run, leaping through split tree trunks and over fallen logs. He needed to get to Eden, and fast.
He broke through into a small clearing and came to a stop. There were bodies everywhere. Bodies of gorillas and a few of Holt’s mercenaries. He rushed among the fallen apes, seeing faces he had known all his life, searching for his mother. Keza was not among them—but his brother was.
“Akika . . .” Thorne knelt beside his brother’s lifeless body. His broad chest was splattered with crimson stains, and his once playful, lively eyes were now empty. Grief Thorne hadn’t experienced since discovering the fate of his parents came crashing down upon him. The weight of it was enough to make any man fall to his knees. Thorne threw his head back and roared again. But this call was not meant for Eden. It was a cry of sorrow, a bellow of rage.
The voices in his head were whispering, chanting things he couldn’t understand. He could only feel their meaning. A sense of coming home, and yet a danger of losing that home forever. A sense of destiny soon to be achieved, or forever lost. He was on a knife’s edge, and so much more than the life of his mate was at stake, even if he couldn’t fully understand why. He knew what he must do. He got to his feet, his chest rising and falling with harsh breaths.
“Those bastards,” Isabelle said as she caught up to Thorne.
“They are dead,” he said. “All of them.”
Lofty and Cameron exchanged glances.
“Take us to them,” Cameron said. “We will take them down.”
There was no question of morality, no discussion of the lives of the men Holt had hired. Anyone who shot an animal like this—that man’s life was forfeit.
“Thorne, my friend,” Bwanbale called from behind him. “Go. You can reach her quicker than we can. We will follow.”
Thorne hesitated for only a moment, then ran for the nearest tree. Climbing swiftly, he gripped the long, sturdy vines and swung to a distant tree and another vine, moving faster and faster until he could smell the waterfall. The plane was not far from there. He reached the edge of the thinning woods just as he spotted Holt dragging Eden into the shallows of the river that fed into a massive waterfall below. They were trying to cross but were dangerously close to the falls. The men were clumped around Holt and Eden, all of them knee-deep in the swiftly flowing water.
“Holt!” Thorne bellowed.
The group in the shallows froze. Holt spun in Thorne’s direction, pulling Eden in front of him as a shield, one hand around her throat and a gun pressed into her side. She was beautiful, defiant, brave, even in the face of such danger.
Thorne leapt down from the trees, landing gracefully in a crouch, then standing slowly. Perhaps fifty paces separated them, twenty strides, but Thorne didn’t mind the distance. It was the men who held all the guns that gave him pause. There were twelve in total. Too many for him to attack alone. But the others were coming, and they too were armed.
“You want the girl? You know my terms. Surrender yourself. Take me to the cave, and I’ll let her go.”
Eden struggled in his hold. “He’s lying!” Eden shouted before Holt squeezed her neck. She gasped as he choked her into silence.
Thorne took another few steps, his hands raised.
“I will surrender if you let her go.” Thorne would take his chances once Eden was safe, but he knew Holt had every intention of killing them both.
“Come closer. My men will bind your hands, and then I’ll set her free.”
“No!” Eden choked, her face red as she thrashed. Thorne stepped into the shallows of the river, his gaze never leaving Eden’s face. Her green eyes were full of fear, not for herself but for him. She shook her head at him, pleading for him to go. He held her gaze, speaking to her without words.
&nb
sp; You are the mate of my heart, the mate of my soul. I would die for you.
“Bind him!” Holt ordered. A pair of mercenaries approached Thorne cautiously with a short coil of rope. Thorne held still as his wrists were bound in front of him.
“Walk ahead of me, slowly now,” Holt ordered.
Thorne waded past him in the shallows. The closer he came to Holt, the stronger that feeling of destiny grew, a crying out, pleading to him for help. He could hear it so clearly now, just as he could hear and understand the animals.
And it was coming from Holt.
More specifically, it was coming from Holt’s vest pocket. He could almost see it glowing through the fabric.
Thorne stopped and turned around. “You did not choose to come here.”
Holt frowned, not understanding. “I think you have that the wrong way around, monkey boy.”
Thorne shook his head. “You were called here to return something that does not belong to you.”
Holt laughed. “Again, you have that the wrong way around. I’m here to take. When I found the cave, I only got a taste of what it had to offer. I’ve been trying to get the rest for more than twenty years.”
Thorne shook his head. “No. You took something from here, long ago. This land is alive, and you took its heart.”
At that, Holt’s laugh froze, and his hand almost unwittingly reached toward his upper vest pocket. He opened the flap and pulled out a bright uncut stone that seemed to glow in the sunlight. The voices in Thorne’s head were no longer whispers. They were now a steady chant, and he was certain that Holt could hear their words as well.
“You have been called here to return it and to answer for your crimes.”
The expression on Holt’s face turned from one of confidence to uncertainty, and then to desperation. He knew he wasn’t being led to his fortune, but to his execution.