Edge of Danger. Rhyannon Byrd
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Dark brows drew together over darker eyes. “Who?”
“The boy I was with tonight,” she explained, adjusting her hold on the heavy pack. “He lives in Coroza with his brothers, not far from the bar.”
Quinn frowned. “You know he’d be better off if you just stay away from him.”
“But you said yourself that the Casus went after some of the women Ian knew,” she argued. “I need to make sure that Javier made it home okay. Give him enough money to get out of town for a while.”
“Then call him,” he said flatly.
“He and his brothers don’t have a phone,” she explained with a heavy dose of frustration.
He studied her posture, his hard, hypnotic gaze lingering on her face…her eyes, noting her determination. “It isn’t safe for you to go near him, Saige. If they’ve marked him, you’ll be putting yourself in danger again. Just going back into Coroza is a hell of a risk.”
She was going to have to go back into Coroza one way or another, anyway, considering she still had to retrieve the maps from Inez’s safe—but she wasn’t going to explain any of that to Quinn. And at the moment, her only concern was Javier. “You can try to stop me,” she said, “but I’m giving you fair warning. If you do, I’ll stab you in the heart the second you let your guard down, then come back without you.”
She’d expected him to shout at her, but it was quickly becoming apparent that Michael Quinn wasn’t an easy man to predict. Instead of reacting with anger, he actually grinned at her quietly spoken threat, the devilish curve of that hard mouth making her toes curl inside her hiking boots, though she struggled not to show it. “You’re not afraid of me at all, are you?”
She was almost grinning back at him as she said, “Just don’t forget it.”
“I’m not likely to,” he murmured, the heavy look in his eyes making her shiver with awareness. In that moment, she was distinctly aware of their differences. Of his rugged maleness compared to her softer femininity. And yet, she still didn’t feel threatened. Not by Quinn.
No, for some unfathomable reason, she felt safe.
A gentle breeze blew her hair across her face, and she lifted one hand, tucking the wayward strands behind her ear. “I understand the risk, Quinn. But I have to do this. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”
He held her in his dark gaze as the seconds stretched out like a body being tortured on the rack. Just when she was ready to start arguing in earnest, he blew out a rough breath, and quietly said, “How’s the leg?”
Her leg? Glancing down, Saige noticed the bloodied scratches the Casus had left on her calf. She knew it was a sign of her nerves that the wound wasn’t bothering her. Looking back at Quinn, she said, “It’ll be fine.”
He arched his brows. “Then are we walking or flying?”
Relief hit like a physical blow to her chest, though she tried to hide it. Thinking over his question, Saige listened to the night. She could tell from the distant sound of church bells that the terrifying flight had kept them close to the outskirts of the city, rather than taking them deeper into the jungle. “We’re not far from Coroza,” she murmured. “You can’t very well go flying into town.”
He shrugged, though there was an odd light in his eyes, as if he were teasing her. Not knowing what to make of him, Saige looked to the evening sky for her bearings, then headed west, acutely aware of the man named Michael Quinn following closely beside her…every step of the way. It was an odd, overwhelming sensation, having him so near. And one she wished she didn’t like nearly as much as she did.
Pressing one hand to her stomach, she struggled to push away the unwanted sensations, and reminded herself that her life had just been turned upside down…and would never be normal again.
Not that you did normal all that well anyway, she thought with a frown.
She didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him with her secrets, but as they walked through the verdant beauty of the jungle, Saige couldn’t deny that she was utterly…unusually…and unequivocally fascinated by the dark, intoxicating stranger who’d just landed in her life.
She only wished she had a clue what to do about him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SENSING THE ARRIVAL of a dominant predator, startled wildlife scurried back into the underbrush as Gregory DeKreznick stepped from the thick, humid veil of jungle. Wearing a feral smile, he stalked toward the center of the clearing nestled beside a meandering offshoot of the river, the darkening summer sky shot with fading, violent streaks of purple and pink. A lone wooden hut sat at the north end of the small, cleared patch of dense tropical foliage, a fisherman’s weathered boat propped against its side, testament to the trade of the man who’d lived there, until Gregory had killed him earlier that week. Mere miles from the site where Saige Buchanan had been searching for another of the lost Dark Markers, the meager dwelling had been an ideal location for him and his fellow Casus and so they’d claimed it as their own.
Tonight, the small cabin huddled silent and dark in the moonlight, telling him that at least for the moment, he had the clearing to himself.
Throwing back his wolf-shaped head, the monstrous creature stared up at the infinite, cloud-scarred stretch of night, and allowed his true shape to melt away, pulling back into the body of his human host. Rolling his broad shoulders, Gregory cracked his head to the side with a popping burst of sound, then slicked his chin-length, sun-streaked hair back from his chiseled face, the spattering of blood from the evening’s kills still warm against his skin. Scratching lazily at his chest, he savored the thick, meaty taste of his most recent victims against his tongue, running the tip across the smooth surface of his straight white teeth.
He could have taken Javier Ruiz and used him as bait to draw out his prey, but there’d been no need to go through the hassle when killing him had proven so much more effective. Gregory had gotten what he needed, and as a whole, the Ruiz brothers had been fairly satisfying—though not nearly as sweet as when he feasted on warm, womanly flesh. Men were filling, but females gave him so much more…pleasure, like savoring a fine wine after years of nothing but tepid water.
That was the difference between him and Royce. A team player to the very end, Royce Friesen had been told not to feed from the humans, and so he’d obeyed, drinking the water while Gregory savored the succulent feast. And what a feast it was. He’d hungered for too long while trapped in the holding ground they’d named Meridian. While locked away from the things that made him whole…that made him complete, and no matter what Calder and his followers had told him before his release, Gregory had no intention of obeying their asinine rules.
Friesen, however, lived the servile existence of a good little soldier, only dining on the local livestock. He’d even been warned not to feed from the Merrick bitch until she’d fully awakened—and though it went against everything that the Casus were, the idiot obeyed, following his orders to a T. Even knowing that Gregory grew stronger every day, Royce remained committed to his decision to comply with Calder’s ridiculous dictates, and today it had nearly cost him. They’d trailed Saige Buchanan for hours, expecting her to leave the country once she’d found the second Marker and that milksop of an archaeologist had skipped out, but she’d spent the afternoon scurrying all over town instead. By the time she’d headed toward O Diablo Dos Ángels late in the day, Royce had already gone too long without one of his meager feedings and was growing weak. He’d been forced to travel into the jungle in search of animal prey, leaving Gregory to watch over their target while she visited with her friends at the rustic barra.
Enjoying having her all to himself, without Royce’s irritating presence, Gregory had watched her from afar, biding his time like a shark slowly circling in for the kill,