Page 117 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
Without another word, Jenna Shifted to Vapor and drifted upward into the trees, a soft coil of mist floating higher and higher among the branches, until Jacqueline was a small shape far below.
Jack stood looking up for long moments, searching the canopy, silent. After a while she sighed, adjusted the backpack on her shoulders, and turned and walked out of the forest.
She didn’t look back.
With all his heart, Hawk wished he could Shift to Vapor.
As Vapor, emotions were quelled. There was no pounding heart, no rushing blood, no sickness in the pit of his stomach. There was only lovely and calming mist, total tranquility. Peace.
But he’d been injured by Alejandro’s claws, and peace was out of his reach.
He’d watched Jenna and Jacqueline take to the skies from the cover of the trees, away from the colony because he couldn’t bear to speak to anyone. Not now. Maybe not ever. And as the two of them shrank to nothing but a brilliant spot of white on the distant horizon, Hawk wondered if this was what hell felt like. The pain was so intense he thought his heart might actually explode inside his chest.
It didn’t. Unlucky for him, it didn’t.
Blind, deaf, mute, he made his way back through the forest to his home. He climbed the rope, the wound in his shoulder breaking open again, leaking blood down his chest. Then he lay down on his back in his bed, pulled the pillow over his face, smelled the lingering, lovely scent of jasmine and honey that was Jacqueline, and, for the first time in his entire life, wept.
When Hawk could bear the weight of the empty rooms no longer, he went to the forest and started walking with no direction in mind, unsure if he’d ever turn back.
By the time Jenna made it back to the colony, the sun was high overhead, but the cloud cover below her had thickened to the point of visual impenetrability. She was in dragon form again, and again was exhausted, having only slept one night since her journey from Morocco.
She began her descent, angling sharply toward the clouds, and that was when she felt it.
Correction: him. She felt him.
As unmistakable as a slap across the face, the energy Caesar exuded was curdled and violent, the same crackling cur
rent that had set her nerves on edge when she’d first seen him standing on that crenellated turret at the kasbah outside Marrakech.
No!
She went to Vapor, funneled herself into a narrow channel of wind, and shot down through the cloud cover, punching through to the other side just in time to feel the first pinpricks of rain slice through her.
Rain was good. Rain would dampen her scent, muffle her energy.
She slowed her speed and edged toward the colony, trying to appear as just one more wisp of misted air steaming above the treetops. She didn’t take the time to wonder at his motives or his appearance here, when he was supposed to be on the other side of the world, because her thoughts had winnowed to three words, shrieking like banshees inside her skull.
Leander. The children.
If any of them were hurt, Jenna would rain down hell of such biblical proportion Caesar would be wishing for all eternity that he’d been Gifted with anything other than immortality.
It had been almost too easy. Hell, it had been too easy. Where was the security? Where were the lookouts?
Most important, where was the Queen?
Their tracker, Badr, had brought them right to the edge of the colony without incident, and Caesar was actually quite disappointed he hadn’t been able to use the Firestarter yet to scare away any potential assailants. He’d been looking forward to seeing a few roasted kitties, but it was probably for the best; this was supposed to be a covert operation, and giant balls of fire were anything but covert.
His plan was simply this: get in, kill the Queen, let Weymouth handle the logistics from there. He didn’t care how many members of this godforsaken jungle colony wanted to join him . . . he only cared about gutting that spying bitch with his own hands. The rest was gravy.
With the help of the GPS, they’d found the locale from where Weymouth’s call had originated. Judging by the size of the structure in relation to the other dwellings suspended through the trees, it was clear they’d come to the home of the Queen, or at the very least the Alpha of this colony who, if properly motivated, could point them in the Queen’s direction. But it was eerily quiet, the forest deserted, and Caesar sensed the Queen wasn’t there.
So the four of them settled in beneath the dense cover of a stand of mammoth ferns to wait.
“They’ll have to come by air,” Leander said, pacing in front of the dais in the Assembly room where Alejandro normally held court. “Planes are the most logical choice. They won’t be hindered by the terrain, and they’ll be much safer flying than on foot.” His voice darkened. “And they can bring a much bigger force that way.”
The Assembly members were all present, but today the elaborate throne stood empty. Alejandro hadn’t been seen since the interrupted contest with Hawk, and there had been no time to organize a vote to decide which of the two would be Alpha.
Voting for the Alpha, thought Leander, his lips quirking with mirth in spite of the seriousness of the current situation. If nothing else, his wife never failed to surprise him.
