by Eve Langlais
Nothing like feeling both powerful and humble as he pitted himself against the raw beauty of Mother Earth. With the help of a local guide, of course. Since the first group had already left with the prearranged guide, lucky Kendrick had to settle for second best, the irritable father.
For a few hours, they trekked, Kendrick and Joel lapsing into a comfortable silence while the old guy, more nimble than his appearance would indicate, scrambled ahead, not once looking back to see if they kept up. They did, of course. As if the old coot could lose either Kendrick or Joel with their enhanced sense of smell. Despite his unspoken challenge, Kendrick and Joel clung close to his trail, but after a while, Kendrick stopped and Joel piled into him.
“What’s up? Hear something?”
A frown knit his brow as Kendrick peered around. “This isn’t the right way.”
“Run that by me again.”
“This isn’t the right way. I wasn’t sure at first, but for at least the last hour, we’ve been following a different path than the first group.”
Joel frowned. “You know their scent?”
No, but given his wolf’s whining for the past sixty minutes and the fact the scent trail they’d initially followed, the one tickling him all over, vanished, he’d wager his hunch was a good one. “I’m pretty sure I picked it up at the village, or do you know many natives wearing Irish Spring antiperspirant?”
“I don’t think they know what deodorant is,” Joel muttered with a shudder. “Maybe the old guy is trying to catch up via a shortcut.”
“Possible, but my gut says no.”
“Good enough for me.” Placing his fingers in his mouth, Joel let out a whistle, a piercing noise that caught their guide’s attention.
Branches thrashing, the old man returned to them with a scowl. “Why do you stop? We need to move if we wish to catch up before nightfall.”
“This isn’t the right way.” Forget stating it like a query. Kendrick mentioned his suspicion as a certainty.
“Of course this is the right path. I know the forest better than you,” said the guide in a belligerent tone.
Watching for it, Kendrick noted the shift in the fellow’s eyes when he lied. “Bullshit. Where are you taking us?”
“Short cut.”
Again with the flickering eyes. Kendrick growled. “I can tell you’re lying. What are you doing? Is this some kind of scam to take outsiders off track and kill us for our money?”
“If I wanted you dead, I would not have to lead you into the jungle to do it.”
Finally a truthful claim, if one Kendrick rather doubted the old man could keep. He and Joel could handle this cocky idiot. However, he couldn’t speak for the others. “What have you done to the other group? If you’ve harmed them …” He didn’t need to threaten with his fist given his tone held all the menace needed to make the grizzled gent blanch. Not for long though.
“They won’t be harmed. They are going exactly where they are needed.”
Kendrick wondered at his odd turn of phrase. “What do you mean needed?”
“Bah. I do not need to explain myself to you. Good luck finding your way back, American boy.”
“Canadian actually.” Not that their guide stayed to hear his rebuttal. In a flash, the old man disappeared back into the jungle. For a human, he moved pretty damned quick and quiet. Neither would protect him, though, from someone like Kendrick and his wolf’s developed sense of smell. With a growl, Kendrick made to go after him.
Fingers curled around his bicep as Joel held him back. “While I commend your need to beat up an old human, one step away from needing spoon feeding, shouldn’t we instead worry that the first group might be heading into some kind of trap?”
“Aw come on. Just one slap? You know the old coot is asking for it.”
“Yes. And he’ll get one when we pass through the village on our way back. Imagine the surprise on his face when we show up to say hello.”
Petty, but Kendrick could admit the priceless look of fear and disbelief when they did return did sound fun.
“Okay, we’ll go with your plan and rescue the other team first.”
“Or at least find them before trouble does.”
“Should we shift for speed?”
“And travel through the jungle with no supplies?”
If they went as wolves, yes, they’d make better time, but arrive with no clothes, food or other amenities in a strange place where even sleep required guarding. “Good point. We’ll jog.”
Joel hitched his knapsack as he glanced around the jungle and its concealing foliage. “Jog where? I guess we could backtrack to where we last encountered their scent and follow from there.”
“Or, we let technology do its thing.” As if Kendrick would come on a trip without the latest gizmos. Stu, his brother, might be a lot of things – giant p.i.t.a, crude and foul mouthed – but he also had the latest toys, and even better, shared them with Kendrick for the trip. Dropping his bag, he rifled through the side pocket and pulled out the latest in satellite GPS technology.
Whistling, he powered the sucker up as Joel shook his head. “Whatever happened to using a compass? Talk about taking away from the spirit of the trip.”
As if anything they were taught in Wolf Scouts would apply here. The note left by the group contained coordinates for their camp that night. Kendrick could only hope the guide wouldn’t spring his trap before then. “You can have spirit while running around in circles in the forest. I, for one, am going to use all the tools in my sack. Impassable jungle, meet the future.”
Of course, the future didn’t do too well finding him a trail through a wild forest replete with hidden ravines, limb-sucking bogs, deadly snakes, and a thicket of something prickly that made even his tough skin itch.
Yet, despite the setbacks, they trekked quickly and overcame the issues, getting hot and sweaty in the process. It did wonders for their tempers.
“We should be coming across the rest of the team any minute,” Kendrick announced as he checked the GPS for their latest position. He hitched his pack higher, wondering not for the first time why innovative camping items of the future weighed so freakn’ much.
“I don’t know why they couldn’t wait for us at the last village,” Joel grumbled, his good humor finally lost as he mimicked Kendrick’s words of earlier. “I thought this was a team effort.”
“Look on the bright side – at least once we arrive, unless they’re being held captive, we’ll have a chance to relax. I bet you they probably have a camp set up already.”
“Does it have a woman, a cold beer, and a plate of nachos?”
Mmm, nachos. Damn Joel for making him hungry. “Probably none of the above, but I sure hope it has water.” Not that Kendrick really needed extra moisture, the sweat on his body slick and his clothes wet enough to wring. However, he would have loved to sluice off the powerful stench. His antiperspirant just couldn’t handle this kind of heat and his sensitive nose didn’t like it at all. The discomfort level was high. And he’d thought braving the Canadian wild would prepare him for the lushness of a tropical forest. Not even freakn’ close.
“I’d settle for a glass of water to pour over my head.”
“You might get that wish. Good news finally, my friend. According to my GPS map, there should be a lake of some sort at our destination.”
“Lovely. I get to swim with the crocodiles and keep the piranhas away from my junk. Why did I volunteer for this again?”
“Because I made you.”
“Oh yeah.”
And we needed the adventure, Kendrick mentally added. Canada just didn’t have the kind of primitive danger still found in some pockets of South America. Actually, not entirely true. It did north of his hometown in the territories, but the weather wasn’t as nice, the trees were few and far between, and there was nothing like, say, a legendary tribe to discover.
Treading through a jungle that rapidly thinned as they approached a clearing, Kendrick wondered if he’d recognize an
ybody in the group that went ahead. Comprised of shifters, theirs was a special ops mission organized by the secret shifter council, a council he’d only recently learned about. Concerned with the events occurring in this stretch of the jungle, namely, disappearing groups of explorers, and more specifically, women, the council wanted answers. His task, with the others in his group, was to find the girls, rescue them if possible and report on the Moon Ghost Jaguars, if they even existed.
The hope was they would find some kind of clue or trail to follow from the campsite the girls were kidnapped from. Missing for many days already, it was a slim hope, but it didn’t mean they’d give up.
Stepping free of the foliage, Kendrick blinked as the bright sun momentarily blinded him. Joel seemed to have no such problems adjusting because he whistled then said, “I’ll be damned. Someone brought his chubby girlfriend along.”
Eyes adjusting to the change in illumination, Kendrick let his gaze rove over the temporary camp until he spotted the woman in question – a lot more curvy than he preferred, and pale-skinned, so pale she’d burn if unprotected by sunscreen. She appeared delicate despite her height and full figure. According to his shocked senses, she was also one hundred percent human, which made her totally out of place on this expedition. Oh, and if the sudden yipping in his mind and the hard-on in his pants were any indication … She’s my mate.
Un-freakn’ real. The adventure he’d looked forward to took an unexpected twist, a fairly rounded one with wavy blonde hair.
Oh. My. God.
Yup, that about summed up the hotness level of the two guys who stepped from the jungle. Ruth had thought the current men she traveled with a good-looking lot – Liam with his blond, Ken-doll appearance, Peter with his cocoa skin and beautiful smile, and the all too suave Fernando, his Hispanic heritage evident in his accent and flirtatious dark eyes. But these two guys? Damn! Hot freakn’ damn.
It wasn’t a pretty boy cuteness that rendered them so appealing, though, but rather their innate ruggedness. From their short haircuts, almost military in style, to their square, bristled jaws, wide, superbly-wide shoulders, and perfect height, these two guys oozed testosterone. Confidence. Swagger. Hot, I-am-the-man, stuff. In other words, all the things that totally turned her on.
Sometimes she hated her hormones. Why did she always find herself attracted to the impossible to attain type? So unfair, given her attraction was rarely returned.
At six-foot-one, Ruth stared most men in the eye – or would if she didn’t duck her head from shyness in most cases. Unlike wafer thin models with confidence and pouty lips, Ruth hated her stature. No one wanted to date a girl who, by sheer altitude, could predict an early case of male pattern baldness. Sure, some men enjoyed the fact she towered over them, those whose face came to chest level, but Ruth had gotten better over the years at avoiding this creepy type.
Somehow she doubted her height would provide a source of intimidation with the group she currently travelled with. The shortest one, Fernando, was probably still an inch taller than her. That was a great thing because it made her decision to forge ahead and demand a spot in their group easier. Tall guys tended to prefer short and skinny girls. So what if the rescue operation lacked other females? Given her track record with studs, she figured she was safer with these guys than with a group of short pervs intent on getting a peek. And if the cute guys did decide that tall and chubby was better than nothing at all? What happened in the jungle stayed in the … Yeah, no – she’d probably enjoy that particular memory for a long time.
It was a tall girl’s paradise and a shy girl’s nightmare, especially when she had to argue with the cute hunks about letting her join the mission.
“I need to come with you,” Ruth had bravely stammered when she arrived at the last village on the beaten path on her quest to find her sister.
Fernando, whom she initially nicknamed Antonio Banderas the Second, turned a chocolate gaze her way and smiled. “You can come with me anywhere, darling. That’s a guarantee.”
The sexual innuendo made her flush red, especially since she doubted he meant it. Good-looking guys did not crave wide-hipped, small-breasted Amazons with a few too many donuts around the middle. Unless they were drunk and at a frat party. “I was talking about your expedition. I need to go with you to find my sister.”
A frown marred his smooth, tanned complexion. “How do you know of our quest?”
Because the mysterious package she’d received at her hotel told her. It also gave her instructions on how to get to the village and find these men. Who sent it and why, she didn’t know, but given the dead end and run around she’d gotten from the cops, she’d jumped – perhaps foolishly – at the chance to do something, anything to help her sister and best friend.
Despite her usual shyness, Ruth didn’t back down from the men’s initial refusal. In the end, after a phone call made to some mysterious group in charge of their expedition, Liam announced she could go, but she could tell none of the men were too keen on the idea.
And neither was the newly arrived pair, judging by the glower shot her way by the taller of the two, and by taller she meant six foot almost six behemoth versus his friend at six-four.
After a short, heated, but inaudible meeting with the men in the group, Mr. Tall – and really angry looking – stalked toward her, his handsome friend not far behind.
“You don’t belong here,” he stated without pre-amble.
Here we go again. Despite the intimidating tone in his voice and stern gaze, she stood straight – and shook inside. She couldn’t back down, even if he scared the pants off her. Carlie needed her. “You’re going after the missing girls. I need to go with you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Denial? Seriously? “Of course you know what I mean. Just like I obviously know or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Just freakn’ great. Who the hell opened their big mouth? Not that it matters. I don’t know how you got your information, honey, but just so we’re clear, we’re not taking you, journalist or not.”
“A what? You think I’m a reporter?” She gaped at him. “Why on earth would you think that? I don’t even have a camera.” Because she’d had it picked out of her hand when she went for a short sightseeing tour upon arriving at one of the stop over villages on her way to the jungle. A very short tour. After that, she kept everything double knotted to her body and a can of mace ready. Lucky for her, a scared-looking, super-sized blonde with a trembling finger on an aerosol can was more than the local thieves wanted to deal with.
“No camera, but you do have a notepad.”
“Yes. To take notes. I’m a botany major. You know, someone who studies plants and stuff. I’ve actually specialized in jungle flora and fauna, which makes me useful as I’m familiar with the vegetation we’ll encounter.” Ha. She’d throw logic at him and see how he handled that.
“You’re a gardener?” He sneered.
Her smile fell. “We prefer the term botanist.”
“Splitting hairs, honey. But whatever you want to console yourself with, you still don’t belong. This is a rescue operation, not a tea party.”
“I’m aware of that, hence the attire.” Because seriously, no woman with wide hips would ever wear the totally unflattering cargo pants tucked into black – weighed a thousand pounds – boots.
“Listen, I don’t care who you are, what you do, or your reason for insisting on coming. Me and the boys are going to track the missing girls and we’ll bring them back when we find them.”
“When? You sound pretty sure.”
“Because I am. I don’t give up.” Grim determination etched lines into his face and Ruth’s insides tickled, but not just in arousal – because honestly, when a good-looking guy, with obvious strength, made an uncompromising statement like that, she couldn’t help but hope he could keep his word. If he did, then perhaps this mission stood a chance. Optimism and hope – Ruth would take it any day, even if it meant putting up with a
n obnoxious chauvinist, and especially if it meant saving her sibling. Of course, her goodwill to him evaporated as he kept talking.
“Now that we understand each other, why don’t you run back to the village and wait like a good girl while the boys and I do our job?”
Look at that. Chauvinism was alive and well in the jungle. In normal circumstances, faced with an order from a domineering male in a position of power over her, Ruth would have ducked her head and maybe managed a weak nod. But not today. Today she had purpose at her back – and a shot of whiskey from a flask Fernando offered her. A sip to give her energy after their long trek, or so he’d explained when he offered it. More like five minutes of coughing with watery eyes as it burned a path down her throat to her stomach. Given she never imbibed alcohol of any kind, it went right to her head. It also loosened her tongue. Screw this guy and the high horse he rode in on. How dare he act like only his will counted? She wasn’t about to trust her sister’s fate to the hands of a stranger. “No. I’m not going back.”
His brows drew together. “No? Like hell. Since it seems you haven’t heard, you’re not in charge of this expedition. I am.”
“Yeah right,” she scoffed. “If you’re in charge, why did they leave without you?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” he muttered.
Staring up at him, a novel experience that left her heart racing and palms damp, Ruth couldn’t help but shiver, and not just because he scared the panties off her with his grim countenance. Up close, despite his male scent that screamed jungle sweat, he set her nerve endings on fire. Heat curled in her lower tummy. She fought an urge to flatten her hands on his chest, not to push away but to draw him nearer. She really needed that sip of liquor to wear off before she did something stupid, like suck on his stubborn lower lip. “Who are you exactly? Liam didn’t say anything about someone else coming.”