CHAPTER ONE

      THE NIGHT WAS STILL. No howler monkeys sitting up in the trees yelling their heads off. No loud birds calling into the darkness. Damien doubted if there was even a panther on the prowl anywhere near here. It was kind of eerie actually, since he was used to the noise. First, the city noise in Seattle, where he grew up. Then Chicago, Miami, New York. Back to Seattle. And finally, the noise of the Costa Rican jungle, where he’d come to settle.

      Noise was his friend. It comforted him, reassured him that he was still alive. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And when it surrounded him, it was home and safety and all the things that kept him sane and focused on the life he was living now.

      When Damien had come to the jungle he’d been pleasantly surprised by the noisiness of it all. It was as loud as any city, but in a different way. He’d traded in people for animals and honking cars for wind rustling through the vegetation. Now that he was used to the sounds there, he counted on them to surround him, to cradle him in a contented solitude. But tonight was different. He felt so...isolated, so out of touch with his reality. So lonely. Alone in the city—alone in the jungle. It was all the same. All of it bringing a sense of despair that caught up with him from time to time.

      This despair of his had been a problem over the years. People didn’t understand it. Didn’t want to. Most of the time he didn’t want to understand it either, because when he did he’d overcompensate. Do things he might not normally do. Like getting engaged to someone he wouldn’t have normally given a second thought to.

      But Daniel understood this about him. Daniel—he was the only one, and he’d never ridiculed Damien for what other people thought was ridiculous. Of course, he and Daniel had the twin-connection thing going on, and that was something that never failed him.

      Damien and Daniel Caldwell. Two of a kind—well, not so much. They looked alike, with a few notable exceptions like hair length and beard. Daniel was the clean-shaven, short-haired version, while Damien was the long-haired, scruffy-bearded one. But they were both six foot one, had the same brown eyes, same dimples that women seemed to adore. Same general build. Apart from their outward looks, though, they couldn’t have been more different. Restlessness and the need to keep moving were Damien’s trademarks while contented domesticity and a quiet lifestyle were his brother’s. Which Damien envied, as he’d always figured that by the time he was thirty-five he’d have something in his life more stable than what he had. Something substantial. Yet that hadn’t happened.

      It’s too quiet tonight, Damien scribbled into a short letter to