Page 94 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
“—and every person around stood and stared as we passed—”
“I think you’re exaggerating a little—”
“—at my ass, which was on display like it was the Kmart blue light special!”
Hawk was an arm’s length away. Jacqueline was breathing hard, looking at him as if she wished she were holding a bazooka. “I apologize. But you were screaming very loudly. And you were throwing things. I had to subdue you—”
“Subdue me?” He didn’t think it possible, but she stiffened even more. Her face turned a deep crimson.
“So that you wouldn’t hurt either of us, and so that I could bring you here, to get help.”
She repeated acidly, “Help.”
“Yes.” Hawk nodded. “They’re going to help us.”
“Not that we have any idea how,” said Xander mildly. Hawk threw him a murderous glance over his shoulder. Xander was standing there with his muscular arms crossed over his chest, obviously trying not to smile.
“All right. Fine. Help. Untie me.” She presented Hawk with her bound wrists, still glaring at him.
Without allowing himself to stop and think about the insanity of the situation, or the possibility that she might never again recognize him, or the awful, throbbing pain in his chest, Hawk quickly untied the knot he’d made in the rope that secured her wrists, and pulled it off.
She whirled around and slapped him across the face.
He exhaled hard, and closed his eyes. “That never gets old.”
His sarcastic tone was lost on Jacqueline. “I’m sure women do that to you all the time, don’t they, Tarzan? What with you being so charming and all!”
Hawk opened his eyes and watched her rub her wrists, scowling. “No. Just you.”
“Yeah, well just count yourself lucky there’s not a blunt object within easy reach, buddy, or the side of your head would be getting intimately acquainted with it!”
Wishing he had something to crush between his hands, throw, or break over his knee, Hawk said, “Morgan. A little help, please.”
Morgan approached. With the bearing of a general addressing her troops before sending them off into battle, she said, “Jacqueline. My name is Morgan Montgomery Luna. That”—she pointed at Xander—“is my husband, Alexander. That”—she pointed at Hawk—“is my brother-in-law, Hawk. This”—she indicated the room, the jungle beyond—“is our colony, which is located in the rainforest outside Manaus, Brazil—”
“Morgan!” snapped Xander, outraged.
In response to her husband’s angry interruption, Morgan waved a dismissive hand.
“You were brought here to observe us—our ways, our lifestyle—in an effort to bring a better understanding of the Ikati to the outside world. Hopefully, to ultimately foster a friendship between our two species. Or at least start the discussions toward peace. I know you’re upset, but let me assure you that you’re in no danger. I’ll answer any questions you have to the best of my ability, and hopefully we can figure out exactly what happened to your memory so we can get it back. Does that sound reasonable to you?”
There followed a long silence wherein Jacqueline processed what Morgan had said. She tilted her head, frowning. “Lucas,” she said.
Hawk started. His heart surged inside his chest. “Yes? What?”
She looked at him. “I don’t know. That just came to me when she was talking.”
Hawk licked his lips, tried to swallow. His mouth was Sahara dry. “That’s my name.”
Her frown deepened. “She just said your name was Hawk.”
His heart was beginning to burrow its way through his breastbone. “It’s a long story. But my real name is Lucas.”
Her expression soured. That little tidbit didn’t seem to please her.
“That’s a good sign!” said Morgan, brightening. “Now, Jacqueline, why don’t you and I have a seat and talk. I’m sure the boys have other important things to attend to.” She glanced at Hawk, then at Xander, her look no longer so bright. “Don’t you.”
It wasn’t a question.
