Jungle Blaze

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Jungle Blaze Page 7

by Lexy Timms


  He didn’t need that thought right now. It was a distraction, an intrusion from the outside world they were trying so hard to escape. No, his attention needed to be here and now, in what they were doing in this moment.

  So he concentrated on the one thing he truly wanted to. He let his lips follow where his hand had been. He touched and savored her every reaction. To his delight, she countered, finding ways to be closer, to make his own nerve endings sing with the electricity that always was when they came together.

  It was sexual, but he realized that what they did was more than sex. He put into every touch that desperation to reconnect, to find that woman he’d lost under fire and under strain. He rose and pulled off her pants, sliding them down over her long legs and then stood between them. She lay beneath him, welcoming his body, welcoming him with the smile that he only saw in moments like this, when the passion darkened her eyes and gave her that sultry look that set fire to his soul.

  He bent, kissing her, working his lips down the line of her jaw and over her throat. And in the end, he made love to her, slowly, gently, as though the pain and the aches were too fresh, too new to press.

  When he entered her, it was slow and with patience. Her eyes followed his, half-lidded and bright. As he moved inside of her they closed, and she relaxed, letting herself go in the rhythm of the moment. He almost cautioned her about not changing, but when he looked at the beauty that was laid before him he held the words back. They had no place here, not where he reveled in the gloriousness of the woman who loved him, who was committed to him to the point where she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. In a startling moment of clarity he realized that it was himself he sought in her flesh. And in understanding that, he understood what he had become.

  Here he was, the man who had taken on an entire drug cartel in South America without flinching. He was the man who’d helped break up a slave ring in Africa. But somehow, he’d lost his hero status. He wasn’t the man anymore who had won the girl. He wasn’t the dashing hero who swept her off her feet.

  He’d become a nagging mother.

  Frantic now to prove he wasn’t, that he could still be her hero, he increased his tempo. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself up against him. He reached out and lay his hand on her chest, above the breasts, and as he moved faster in her his hand reached up to cup her cheek, to hold the back of her head.

  When he came, it was hard and deep. She followed quickly on the heels of his release and opened her eyes as her orgasm rolled over her, looking into his eyes with a wounded pride, an injured love. He felt her spasm around him, pulling him, milking him.

  His heart cracked at the sight of her. Beautiful, naked, aroused, sated, and yet...

  She looks lonely.

  Taylor was startled. The cat usually didn’t comment on people’s facial expressions; they were too confusing for him.

  You were there for the whole thing?

  She’s my mate, too.

  It was a startling thought. Trying not to show the strangeness of his own emotions, or how unsettled he felt, he lay down beside her and took her in his arms, pulling her close. He stroked her hair and kissed her cheek and swore that he would never forget her and everything she meant to him, ever again.

  This is what matters. Everything else can be worked with, adjusted. But this girl, this perfect girl in my arms, is naked, vulnerable, and trusting me to be there with her. For her. That’s all that matters.

  Somewhere, deep in his mind, a bass growl replied.

  It was the middle of the night when the phone rang. He raised his head and listened as his father’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Dmitri could never speak quietly to save his life.

  “Hello?”

  “WHAT? HELLO?”

  Taylor slipped free of Angelica and threw on his pants. He met his father staggering through the hall. “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know.” His father shrugged and yawned. “Crank call I guess.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said... uh...” His father frowned as he tried to remember. “Something weird. You left your GI Joe on the front porch.”

  And just like that, the warmth of making love to the woman who meant everything in the world to him left. He stood for a moment, his body carved from ice as he struggled to say the words that would change everything. Not just for him, or even for his family, but for an entire community of people who had trusted him to keep them safe.

  “Shit. They’re here,” Taylor said, his voice little more than a harsh whisper. “They’ve come.”

  Chapter 9

  “Grab your bag!” Taylor burst into the bedroom and flicked on the lights. He grabbed her jeans from the end of the bed and tossed them at her. “Get dressed. Now!”

  Angelica sat up, blinking sleepily. Her body ached, and she still felt the warm glow from the aftermath of their lovemaking. Her jeans dropped in her lap and she stared at them in confusion a moment, trying to remember where she was.

  Then she knew.

  He was throwing on his shirt as fast as he was able and had already slammed his feet into his shoes before she’d even gotten untangled from the blankets. Angelica jumped up and dressed as quickly as she could, pulling things randomly from her suitcase: fresh underwear, a t-shirt that didn’t have the stench of travel in it. “What’s going on?” She looked from him to the room, her gaze flicking from object to object, half expecting to see smoke or some other dire situation, though she knew deep down that the danger wasn’t something so easily tangible. Her hands shook as she tied the laces on her sneakers.

  They’ve found us. Somehow, they’ve found us.

  His words confirmed her fears. “I had a signal worked out with Randall,” Taylor said, grabbing his bag and dropping it on the bed. “The army’s here; they’re camped out at the road by the entrance.”

  “Camped out?” She echoed the words a bit stupidly, her sleep-filled mind still trying to catch up.

  “They’ll move in at dawn,” Taylor explained. “With a tight perimeter around the property to ensure that no one slips away in the middle of the night.”

  Not quite the way things like this happen on TV. She shuddered. Maybe I should be thankful for that. In every movie I’ve ever seen they come in, black ops, guns blazing, taking everyone out in the middle of the night.

  “What about all the people?” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “The houses... the livestock?”

  “We’re taking the dog,” Dmitri said from the door. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he was wearing his boots untied. “The rest is under a protectorship. I already called the lawyer’s office; they will deal with the assets as quick as legally possible.”

  They shouldn’t have to do this. They shouldn’t have to leave their homes, and everything they know. I’m the cause of all of this.

  “Where will you go?” Angelica asked him, swallowing hard, trying to stamp down the guilt because it wasn’t useful, and honestly wasn’t all hers to carry much as her heart was trying to convince her it was.

  “There’s a place in Canada we have saved for just such an emergency. We’ll be okay.”

  “If Taylor goes the hell away and stays away!” Harold called from the hallway. A door slammed. Thuds and bangs told her someone was packing hastily. Angrily flinging things in their haste to find what they needed.

  Taylor’s eyes flicked toward the direction of Harold’s door. Angelica caught a hint of regret in their depths. “I sent a package to myself,” he said, returning his attention to his father. “Did it arrive?”

  Dmitri nodded. “I put it in the den. I haven’t touched it.”

  Taylor nodded and slipped past his father, heading to the den. Angelica followed in his wake, not sure what else she should be doing right now. His mother was already there, hastily dressed, but she carried a large backpack with her. She pulled Taylor aside as he bent to retrieve the box from the desk.

  “Taylor,” she said under
her breath, “Mrs. Petrov and I were talking. You need to take her to the elders.” She nodded once in Angelica’s direction.

  “No, Mom.” Taylor shook his head, adamant in his protest. “That’s not necessary. She’ll get the hang of it in time...”

  “No, she won’t,” his mother snapped, and glared at him. “Do not ignore this, Taylor. This can become serious, and fast.”

  Angelica watched as Taylor opened the box and pulled out a pair of pistols and a carefully wrapped box of ammo. “I am serious,” he assured her, “but we have maybe an hour before sunrise. They’re going to come in force. You’re going to need every pair of hands you can get.”

  “And we lose everything,” Harold hissed from the doorway, “because you led them right to us.”

  “HAROLD!” Nikki snapped, without turning around. “Be quiet!”

  “No!” Harold strode into the room, and for the first time Angelica noticed the shotgun again in his hand.

  She flinched and stepped backwards, toward the wall, willing herself to not change, though right now she felt far too vulnerable as a human.

  He’s a tiger. And he’s used to being a tiger. Do you really want to see which cat would be the stronger one in a fight?

  She bit her lip, tried to keep from whimpering. Hating that she almost did. She used to be stronger. She used to be more sure of herself. Africa had stripped away all the best parts of herself and left only this... shell in place.

  “He made the mess—we need to clean it up for him... AGAIN!” Harold paced, frenetic in his energy, eyes wild. Unstable in his fury. Unpredictable.

  “What are you going to do, take on the entire United States Army with a shotgun?” Taylor hissed, getting in front of his brother, putting himself between him and her, Angelica realized.

  “At least I’m defending my people, not betraying them!” Harold shot back.

  Taylor shoved one of the guns into his belt and held the other out to Angelica. She recoiled, as if he’d just given her a snake. After her experience in Africa, she wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t prefer the snake. The gun felt evil, wrong in her hand. She pressed it back, not wanting it.

  It made the difference between life and death there. His life, his death. It might again. “I... can’t.” Angelica looked up at him, her eyes pleading.

  Taylor glanced at his father. Uncertain. “Here,” he finally said, half turning to hold it out to him instead. His father took the firearm from him with a crisp nod.

  “Don’t you turn your back on me!” Harold snapped suddenly, grabbing his brother’s arm and yanking him back around. Taylor swung at his brother and connected with his lower jaw. The sound could only be described as hitting a tree with baseball bat. Angelica flinched as Harold staggered backward. He caught himself on the edge of the couch and glared at Taylor, hatred in every line of his body. Raising the shotgun like a club, he’d taken two steps in Taylor’s direction when Dmitri fired the pistol. Once. Angelica dropped to the floor, her hands over her ears. It took her a moment to realize he’d put a hole in the ceiling.

  “Now they know that we’re awake and armed,” Dmitri said to Harold. “... and that is because of you. You’re playing the fool, son.”

  Harold shot daggers at his father and stalked out of the room, his shoulder coming into contact with Taylor’s as he passed, knocking him sideways.

  Taylor clenched his fists but didn’t respond.

  Angelica stood uneasily, her heart pounding in her chest.

  “Taylor,” his mother said through clenched teeth, “you will listen to this. If you have never listened to anything I have ever said before, you will listen to me now. Take her to the elders.”

  “Mother, we don’t have...” Taylor started to turn away, and jumped in surprise when she slapped him hard.

  “LISTEN TO ME!” Angelica heard the snarl. Nikki was the tigress protecting her cub, the predator reborn. “Take her there, while you still can.”

  Angelica’s eyes went wide. They were talking about her like she wasn’t even there. And yet, she found herself siding with Taylor, wanting to go to his side, as though there were something he needed to be protected from.

  Well, he is wearing a handprint across his face...

  Taylor was mad as hell, eyes blazing. “What do you mean, ‘while I still can’?”

  Nikki looked at Angelica. “I mean, if her lioness doesn’t awaken, her body—her human body will take over the transformation and you will lose her completely. She’ll change, but Angelica won’t come back.”

  “She doesn’t have an inner lioness,” Taylor argued. “She wasn’t born to this, she was forced. Created. Someone did this to her.”

  “And that,” Dmitri said, coming to stand with his wife, putting an arm around her protectively, “is why you have to. The elders are the best hope we have of reaching her.”

  Taylor stared at the both of them. The red handprint on his face stood out in stark contrast against skin that had gone deathly pale.

  “Son,” Dmitri said softly. Kindly. “Don’t make me think I have two stupid children. Besides,” he smiled at Angelica, who was trembling against the wall, “I kind of like the idea of having a daughter. And a lioness at that?” He chuckled. “Remarkable.”

  She smiled weakly. Yeah. Remarkable. Wait. What does she mean I won’t come back?

  The phone rang, Dmitri left to answer it.

  Taylor looked at his mother. The anger had gone out of him. He slumped. Defeated. “All right. We’ll see the elders.”

  Nikki reached up and lay her hand on his cheek, her fingers laying perfectly in the red marks her slap had raised on his skin. “Thank you, Taylor. Go as quickly as you can.”

  Taylor nodded. “We’ll leave as soon as I see you safe in Canada,” he promised.

  “No need,” his father said, coming back into the room. He thumbed in the direction of the hallway. “When you called yesterday and gave us warning, I spoke with the lawyer. That was them. They have a... writ? Injunction? I don’t know, some damn thing that they’re playing. They even woke a judge to back it up. It should buy us some time. I also installed some webcams around the town and at the entrance of the house. They’re livestreaming on YouTube right now.”

  The whole scene was taking on a surreal quality. YouTube?

  Taylor’s grin nearly split his face in two. “That’s brilliant!”

  Dmitri shrugged. “I’ve been a pain in the ass for many years, son.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” his mother said with a warm smile.

  He laughed and bent to kiss her. “We’re still running. It doesn’t mean we don’t have packing to do, it just gives us more time to do it,” Dmitri said, but his expression was one of relief. “But while this will buy us time, you need to leave. Now. Somehow, I feel that all the legal documents in the world aren’t going to keep you safe. And it certainly won’t get you halfway around the world. You’re going to need to get out of here, sooner rather than later.” He shook his head and held out a hand to Angelica, pulling her into his arms for a quick hug. “You’re going to be okay. I can see you’re scared, and I don’t blame you. We’ve been talking around you, and no one ever asks what you want to do. Listen to me, girl—no matter what you say or even think, there’s a lioness inside you that’s desperate to get out. I believe that with all my heart. The elders, they’ll be able to help. Just give them a chance. Please?”

  He released her and she stepped back, closer to Taylor. Dmitri didn’t seem to be waiting for a reply, which was probably a good thing. She had no idea what to say.

  Dmitri was already speaking again. “You can’t go out the same way you came in, but do you remember Augustine?”

  Taylor nodded. “Yeah, he’s got the place at the other end of the clearing.”

  Dmitri nodded. “He’s got his barn open.”

  It was a strange statement, but Taylor seemed to know what he meant. He looked wistfully at his mother and wrapped her in his arms. He gave his father a hug, and they in turn hug
ged Angelica. His father kissed the top of her head.

  “Let us know,” his mother said, choking on unshed tears.

  “You, too,” Taylor whispered.

  Angelica blinked back her own tears. She’d barely met these people, but she’d come to love them in a very short time. It could very well be the last time they ever saw either of them.

  Taylor took up his bag and looked at her, holding out his hand for her to take. Angelica smiled at the gesture and let her fingers entwine with his. He was her rock. Her stability. No matter what, so long as they had each other they would be okay.

  Remember this feeling. When things get bad, remember this.

  He led her outside without a backward glance and headed to the pickup.

  Harold was standing in front of the truck, shotgun hanging over his arm.

  The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment. Harold moved first, sidling away from the vehicle. Angelica’s eyes never left the gun once as they closed the distance. She swallowed hard as they got close.

  He nodded at them, face expressionless. “Good luck.”

  “You, too,” Taylor said, returning his nod. He held out his hand. Harold looked at it for a long moment and shook his head.

  “Not yet,” he said finally. “Not yet. Just... let’s get through this first.”

  Taylor’s hand fell away. “It’ll be there when you’re ready,” he said, and tossed his bag into the back of the truck.

  Chapter 10

  Taylor started the rental truck. It sounded impossibly loud, a roar that would carry forever in the quiet of the night. Angelica held her breath as he headed down the little road alongside the fields, his headlights off, startling the horses who thundered away in the darkness, each hoofbeat a thud she felt deep in her chest.

 

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