Page 31 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
“Hawk! Hawk!”
A hand reached out and snatched her just before she went tumbling over the edge of a narrow ravine.
“Careful!” Hawk yanked her to safety and pushed her against the trunk of a moss-covered tree. He held her there with his hand twisted into the front of her shirt, glaring at her as if she were the stupidest creature on Earth, but she didn’t respond with her usual acidic retort because behind him was a panorama of such staggering beauty she was stunned into silence.
Every shade of green, from palest celadon to brilliant jade to deepest myrtle, dominated the lush landscape. Sunlight filtered down from high above in diamond shafts that bejeweled gracefully arching ferns and black-barked trees and mossed boulders. Beyond the initial thicket of dense shrubs along the riverbank, the forest opened to a lush, Jurassic woodland that Jack imagined the Garden of Eden had looked like. Verdant. Misted. Teeming with life. Even the air was incredible. Warm and soft and perfumed, it was filled with a symphony of birdsong, the whir and hiss of insects, the echo of other animal calls high in the treetops above.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice, unable to produce another coherent thought.
Hawk released her shirt, frowning.
Staring around in awe, Jack tentatively asked, “This is where you live?”
He nodded, once, a curt affirmative.
“It’s so beautiful. So . . . untamed.” Without thinking, she added, “It suits you.”
Their eyes met. Jack colored and looked away. Hawk didn’t seem to know what to say to her blurted compliment, so, mercifully, he ignored it. Instead, he launched into a litany of instructions, delivered with the brisk economy of a drill sergeant.
“Stay close to me. Watch your step. Don’t touch anything if you can help it; many of the plants have toxins. If I tell you to stop or be quiet, do it. There’s a million ways to die in this jungle, all of them unpleasant. We’re gonna be walking for several days, and there will be places I’ll have to carry you—”
“Days! We’re going to be walking for days?” Eyes wide, she looked around at the tropical wilderness. “What are we going to eat? Where are we going to sleep? How are we going to—”
“I’ll take care of everything. But let’s be clear on this: I’m in charge. If you don’t want to die in this jungle, you’re going to have to listen to me.” His eyes darkened at the expression of indignation crossing her face. “Even if you don’t like it.”
Though she was loath to admit that she needed him, Jack knew she was at his complete mercy. She also knew he could have already killed her, or let her die, if that had been his intention.
“No, I don’t like it,” she said, “but I’ll make you a deal.”
His swift reply was, “You’re in no position to negotiate.”
She ignored that. “If you tell me why I’m here, I’ll be more cooperative. I need to know what I’m walking into. I’m not good with surprises—”
“Could’ve fooled me.” His lips curved with a ghost of a smile.
Jack knew he was referring to how they’d met, but she pretended ignorance. Never mind the telling heat in her cheeks that was quickly spreading to her ears.
“I’m not good with surprises,” she repeated more firmly, “and I don’t do well with mysteries, either. Tell me why you’ve brought me here and I’ll be much more likely to listen to you. Keep me in the dark . . .” She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. “And I’ll make this as difficult for you as I can.”
The smile faded from Hawk’s face. He stared at her long and hard, his green eyes calculating. In a voice that was low and uncomfortably intimate, he finally asked, “You really hate not being in control, don’t you?”
Her blush spread all the way to the roots of her hair.
“I risk my life all the time in my job,” she said defensively. “That’s not something a control freak would do.”
One of his shoulders lifted and fell, a casual gesture that perfectly managed to convey his disregard for that excuse. “So in addition to being a control freak, you have a death wish. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Hawk’s words struck a nerve, sending a cold rush of shame through Jack’s body. Something dark and ugly began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach, slithering under her ribcage with reptilian menace. She had to look away from him, and spent the next several silent seconds staring at a brilliant blue-and-black butterfly flitting with bumpy grace over a bed of nodding white flowers.
Eyes stinging, Jack admitted quietly, “It’s not a death wish. It’s the opposite. It’s a way . . . it’s a way to feel more alive.”
Why? Why the hell would you tell him that, idiot? Him, of all people!
That palpable scrutiny again. Hawk’s gaze roved over her face with such searing intensity she felt naked. A cavernous silence stretched between them, raw and aching, as painful as a wound.
“Look at me.”
His voice was unexpectedly gentle around the command, and it was worse than if he’d been harsh. Jack closed her eyes, willing herself calm, willing the sick feeling in her gut to subside—neither of which worked.
