His Darkest Hunger (Jaguar Warriors 1)

One of the jaguars was suspended, high in the air, held up by some invisible force. The body turned slowly, and she could see the animal struggling to breathe. Fog crept up from the gentle swell of water far below, weaving its way around the body as the animal writhed in agony. She continued to watch, helpless, as the fog morphed into a darker entity, seeming to pull at the creature, and indeed she realized that’s exactly what was happening.

The animal’s cries lessened as its very essence was sucked from within, and as the wisps of fog slithered back toward the water, the limp and lifeless body of Frank DaCosta stared back at her, his eyes shot full of black, dead.

Libby held her hand to her mouth as a scream threatened to rip its way through her throat, and she watched in disbelief as his body fell nearly thirty feet and slipped beneath the calm water, leaving not even a ripple in his wake.

Terror clawed at her as she turned and began to run down the passage, her thoughts incoherent and jumbled. She’d come here for her son, but did she honestly think he was here?

Alive?

The passage narrowed and she had to slow her pace, but the need to flee continued to propel her. Something was here, with her. The hair on the back of her neck began to vibrate and tingle, as if reacting to an electrical charge, and sharp edges of pain radiated inside her brain.

The pressure intensified to the point that it brought her to her knees and she was truly afraid her head would burst, so raw and intense were the feelings.

Anguish lit her chest on fire and her hands cupped her cranium. She tried to get up but it was no use.

Everything else dulled, and the ache between her ears was constant. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to count, and as panic nipped at her, she struggled to breathe. It was then that she became aware of him. She could see two feet planted in front of her, and they belonged to a large man, judging by the size of his boots. Expensive leather boots, from what she could see.

He crouched down in front of her and she flinched as a large, warm hand extended down and cupped her chin, forcing her eyes upward.

He was handsome, of that there was no doubt. Devastatingly so. Dark hair shot through with silver crowned his head. But his eyes were dead, devoid of any emotion. She blinked slowly, feeling her brain liquefy as a myriad of memories rushed through her. They left her breathless, and her chest constricted in an effort to draw air into her lungs. The world shrank away into the rock face at her back, until she was aware of nothing except the man who held her so gently.

A man whose long, well-manicured fingers were strangely familiar. She focused on them, and felt the last part of her shattered memory shift into place. Like the final piece of a puzzle.

He continued to regard her in silence for what seemed ages, and when he finally spoke, his voice washed over her like broken glass.

“Hello, Libby. Been a long time, no?”

Chapter 22

The serene quiet of the jungle was in total contrast to the emotions that ran through Jaxon as he slashed his way deeper into the interior. He had caught Libby’s scent on the other side of the river, her sweet musky odor tainted with the stink of the DaCosta bastard who had her.

The thought of his enemy’s hands on his woman left him filled with a cold, deadly fury. He fed on it, and right now all of his energy was focused on one thing.

He would bring Libby home, or he would die trying.

He inhaled the heady sweet air that lingered thickly in the extensive range of greenery that surrounded him. The power of the jungle called to his primitive nature, and his senses were electrified, strangely enhanced over and above their already considerable abilities.

Jaxon stood still for a second, his eyes closed as he concentrated on her scent. Satisfied that he was on the right path, he took off at a run, his long legs carrying him forward with great speed as he jumped over rotting logs and an abundance of lush vegetation at his feet. His eyes quickly scanned the path he had chosen, looking for signs that someone had recently passed by. He felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him when he came upon a clearing and noticed two sets of footfalls embedded in the soft earth.

He knelt down, his fingers reaching out to trace the pattern of the smaller of the two. A sound off in the distance stilled him, and he continued to study the ground while sending his senses out on the wind in search of the disturbance he felt.

Someone was here. With him, right now.

His heart began to beat faster and he felt his skin burn as his body heated with anger. His jaw clenched tightly as he continued to hold his position, a position he didn’t like, as his back was extremely vulnerable to attack.

Something was off. He knew there was a presence here in the jungle, not far from where he was, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Human? No, definitely not. But what the hell was it?

His senses began to scream at him, and he exhaled hard before whirling around and bringing his right leg around in a wide circle. He grunted as it came into contact with something solid, something definitely made of flesh and bone, that toppled from the force of his hit.

Jaxon sprang to his feet as a body fell in front of him, a litany of vile curses following it down.

“Jesus! Fuck, Jax!”

Declan’s hoarse shout brought Jaxon up short, and he stood there, heart pounding, body raging with adrenaline. He kicked at the ground and growled deeply from his belly.

“What the hell are you doing? I ordered your ass back to base. I need to know that Ana and Julian make it to the plane.”

Declan slowly got to his feet and spat dirt from his mouth. “Ah, last time I looked, Jaxon, I wasn’t taking orders from you. I’m along for the ride because I want to be. I need to see this thing through to the end just as much as you do,” his eyes narrowed, “and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let you run off into the jungle half cocked, with no backup.”