Jungle Blaze (Shifting Desires Series, #3)

by Lexy Timms

  Chapter 22

  She ran forever, for a year, for a lifetime. It felt that way, even though she knew it was just a short time. She ran away, never toward, always away. She was aware that she needed to return to the compound, or at least find another shifter from the community to let them know that she was all right, that she was leaving. But now that she’d shifted, she was in no hurry to do so. The freedom she enjoyed now was calling to her. Let her put some miles of jungle between her and the world. Let her enjoy this moment. With each passing fall of her feet she gained on the small apartment; she gained on those set out to catch her, she gained on Mrs. Petrov and the Mann family and all the rest in the sleepy village who gave up all they’d worked so hard for because of her. She gained on the elders at the camp. She gained on all the grief and guilt and shame.

  Taylor was close behind her, more suited to this jungle than she was. Lions preferred open plains with tall grass. She was on his ancestral home turf now, so he should have beaten her twice. What hadn’t he? Why did he hold back? Perhaps he was falling behind to extend their time together as well. Was he agreeing with her? Did he also feel that going home by the long way around was all right, even preferable?

  Doubtful; he smells angry.

  The lion was right. She’d scared him, changing like that. He didn’t understand. She hadn’t taken the time to explain. She probably should have.

  I didn’t because I didn’t want another argument. What if he’d told me no? I couldn’t take that chance. No. Let him see who I am. Let him taste the freedom that I do right now. Let him find understanding.

  It was a lovely thought, though how likely it was she didn’t want to contemplate. Thankfully the lion was silent. She didn’t need the analytical know-it-all right now.

  She ran on for a time, following the river upstream. A muted roar in the distance that wasn’t made by an animal spurred her on to move faster. She didn’t really know what she was looking for until she stumbled into the center of the very place she hadn’t known she was looking for until now.

  Here there was another rend in the landscape, another channel dug through the rich soil from relentless water flowing down. But this was different from the stream he’d found her at before. This one had a waterfall. It was ten, maybe fifteen feet high. She stopped there, at the edge of the pool the waterfall had created, and changed back, breathless and exhilarated. She didn’t wait for him, but dipped her foot into the soothing, cool water, discovering to her delight that the temperature wasn’t too cold after all. She slid off the bank into the depths, and when he was in range she pushed off into the deeper pool at the base of the waterfall and let the fish nibble at her toes.

  She stood under the spray, feeling the warm water cascading down between her breasts. The water came only to her waist here. Perfect for rinsing the dirt and sweat from her skin, from her hair.

  Taylor shifted on the bank. He didn’t look pleased. Well, his face wasn’t pleased. There was a part of him that was very pleased, and that part was growing. She focused on that, reminding herself that, regardless of how mad he was, they still at least had that.

  In fact that was looking rather appealing right now. She licked her lips, savoring the hunger.

  “Where...” He opened his arms in confusion. “Where are you running to? The compound is over there.” He waved his hand vaguely somewhere off to his left.

  “How about here?” she asked, lying back to float, enjoying the feel of the sun on her breasts. She moved her hands in lazy circles so that her body rotated gracefully in a circle. “Does it remind you of anything?”

  His eyes were rather focused on her breasts. Apparently, he liked them in the sunshine as well, for possibly different reasons. He nodded, though his expression stayed grim. “The grotto in the Amazon.” He shook his head. “Need I remind you that someone out there,” he gestured again at the jungle, “attacked the compound last night? They tried to kidnap you. They could still be out there. In fact they probably are. I don’t see Griselda—”

  She put her feet down and stood to face him. “That’s just it. I don’t see Griselda. Or anyone else. I’m not a complete idiot, Taylor, but can’t you at least let me have this for a moment? I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding. I just want this. Here. Now. You. Let’s just be us for ten minutes.

  There may have been tears in her eyes, it was hard to tell; the cold crystal clear water tumbling from the waterfall was misting her with a fine spray. She was freezing; the water was not as warm as she’d initially thought, despite the heat of the jungle, and her feet were getting numb.

  “Taylor,” she begged. She begged with every fiber, every part of her. “Taylor, please. Let’s stay here. Just us. It’s a big jungle. We can get lost, we can go away, no one has to be hurt again because of us. We can just be... gone. Please? We’ll go back and tell everyone we’re leaving. They don’t have to worry about us anymore. And we make a big show of just... taking off. Only we don’t. We just... shift. Live here.” She sank so that she was underwater to her chin. It was warmer that way even if she had to blow out some water that tried to go into her mouth. At least he didn’t look mad anymore. Sad, yes, but angry?

  “You didn’t ask me about your kidnappers,” he said softly. “The ones in the car.”

  She closed her eyes and the image of the two men reappeared. “I saw them.” She opened her eyes again and looked into his face, pleading for his understanding. “Taylor, I didn’t kill them, I swear.”

  “I know. They died from the car flipping over. I thought...I thought you were in there, that I was going to pull your body from that wreckage.”

  Angelica swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought. It had never even occurred to her at the time that someone would find the car. That they would think the worst. She’d been so intent on getting away that she’d thought of nothing else. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” She took a step toward him. “But don’t you see? This is what I’m talking about. We can live out here, it’s a jungle! It can feed us, house us. Please, Taylor, no more deaths for our sake. We can just stay.”

  “No, Angelica, we can’t.” He looked at her with eyes weighed down by duty. Responsibility. His dog tags reflected the dying light, a tangible reminder of who he was. Of what he believed in.

  She swallowed hard, taking another step toward him, hand out. Still pleading, but knowing it was useless. He needed to go back. And she needed him. “Taylor, I love you, but this...this isn’t...”

  “Angel—” Taylor stumbled, his eyes growing wide. His back arched as the bullet she hadn’t even heard being fired passed through his chest, spraying blood over the pool.

  Angelica screamed. She couldn’t stop screaming.

  Taylor staggered once and fell, landing on his side at the edge of the water, his eyes still wide open and staring.

  Chapter 23

  DIVE!

  Angelica was frozen, daring to call her eyes liars. This wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. He was shot. Taylor was hurt and bleeding out and she didn’t have anything to...

  DIVE!

  Angelica nearly drowned as she was pulled under the water, by a control over her body that quite clearly wasn’t her own.

  “DAMN YOU TO HELL!” a woman shrieked above her. “I don’t need him dead!”

  “He moved!” someone protested.

  The woman’s voice...

  “Then find the woman, and if you kill her so help me I will skin you alive, you pathetic little—”

  Angelica listened. The voice was distorted by the water; it was muffled, strange.

  Vocal frequencies, idiomatic rhythms, and accent. Voice confirmed.

  Griselda.

  Angelica grabbed the rocks at the base of the waterfall, still underwater. Her lungs began to burn with the effort of holding in the breath she refused to let go. If the inner beast wasn’t beastly, then by God and all the saints she would be.

  When the lioness exploded from the water with a roar that shook th
e jungle, the man with the rifle was too shocked to move much less try to fire. The lioness was on him in a moment, landing on him, 600lbs of force on the man’s stomach and ribs. Things cracked and gave way.

  Third and fourth ribs shattered, internal injuries, possible damage to one lung. With treatment, survivable.

  The great claw wrapped around the rifle and flung it backward into the water. The lion looked up, triumphant, only to see Griselda, ten feet away, with pistol aimed not at her but at Taylor’s head. “I think he’s dead. I can be sure.” She cocked the gun. “What do you say? Wanna play? Oh!” She waggled the pistol. “I should probably tell you that your little band is currently being rounded up by my men. Don’t expect a rescue. I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. On the road they would have had me, but this fun little romp in the jungle? I got to take them out one by one.” She smiled, the gun never wavering. “I don’t need him if I have you, sweetheart.” She smiled. “So, a life for a life?”

  A rattling of bushes announced the arrival of another eight of her goons. They had a prisoner. Olaf. They threw him to his knees, naked. The man who’d held him set a boot on his prone body and pointed his rifle down at his head.

  Angelica froze. Never taking her eyes off Griselda, she allowed herself to change back. She automatically thought to try to hide her nudity, but refused to be cowed by these people. Instead of lewd comments, she heard only gasps. It was one thing to be told what your prey was; it was another to see it happen.

  “Leave him alone.”

  “You’re in no position to give orders.” Griselda shook her head, the gun steady. “You didn’t even say please.”

  Angelica stood her ground, hate radiating from her. Never would she have so cheerfully killed another living being as now. She bit back a hundred possible responses, her brain running in every direction, looking for a way out. I’ve been so incredibly stupid. Stupid and naïve.

  The silence dragged on too long for the drug lord. Griselda looked at the man who held Olaf, his boot on the man’s neck. “Very well. You leave me no choice. Kill that one.”

  “NO!” Angelica hissed. She swallowed hard. Fought to spit out the final word, when it caught in her throat. “Please.”

  But while she kept her face on Griselda, the only thing she had to fight with right now was herself. She tried to raise her breasts a little, slide one hip upward, lift a leg, anything to keep their attention away from the rustling in the jungle behind them, or the movement under Griselda’s gun.

  Be a distraction. It’s sexist. It’s evil. It’s wrong. You can kill all the bastards later. But for now, be a fucking distraction.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Griselda laughed. “Just for that, I’ll be nice.” She glanced over at her man, her gaze triumphant and icy cold. “Kill him quick.”

  The man leered in Angelica’s direction and raised his rifle.

  The sudden impact of a young, fully grown male tiger propelled him forward, tripping over the prone form of Olaf and into the rocks. His rifle flew from his grip, hitting the water much in the same place the first one had, and he slumped.

  That’s Harold.

  Griselda fired. The bullet slammed into the ground; Taylor wasn’t there. A great tiger reached from behind her and sank his teeth into the back of her shirt and pulled. Griselda tried to get a second shot, but her balance was off. She went down hard as the clearing filled with tigers.

  Griselda’s men were caught by surprise; their accomplishment in securing the village had made them complacent. They were assaulted from all sides; one got off a shot, but hit nothing. Dozens of angry tigers pinned them to the ground. The noise was deafening. Angelica had never witnessed anything like it—would likely never do so again. The roars as they slammed into their prey, the screams of the men, the snapping of bones.

  And while Angelica might have had issues with taking a life, these tigers did not. It was over in moments.

  Griselda screamed, a sound of desperation and fury as she twisted away and somehow made it to her feet, her clothing torn and her face bloodied. Angelica saw her rise and followed the movement with her eyes, seeing what no one else had time to.

  “TAYLOR, WATCH OUT!”

  It was too late for warnings. Taylor had a grip on the woman, but she had produced a knife in her other hand. The pistol fired again, and she heard the ricochet as it caromed off a rock. Griselda tried to stab behind her, aiming to hit Taylor anywhere, but Taylor pulled back and in that motion tumbled them both end over end into the pond.

  They fell, hissing and thrashing, at war, tooth to tooth through the very end. They rolled a moment on the water, churning up the still pond as Angelica cried out his name.

  Everything felt chaotic. One moment death was knocking on their door, the next death was destroying those around them. The seesaw of this life was killing them.

  Angelica watched, unable to tear her eyes away and suddenly knowing the outcome.

  It was over in less than a minute. Griselda was, after all, only a woman, and stood no chance against an enraged tiger. Angelica waited for him to surface, holding her breath as he must have been holding his. He only had to let go. But something was wrong. Either he wouldn’t or he couldn’t. Griselda seemed determined to kill him no matter what happened. Had she taken him to the bottom after all?

  “Taylor?” The name was wrenched from somewhere so deep that it left pain in the passing. She stumbled to the edge of the pond, but the surface had grown still. It was as if Taylor and Griselda had been swallowed by the water. Angelica knelt by the shore, looking for her love but seeing nothing. She became aware of others beside her. Harold. Dmitri. Olaf. One of the members of the council in Minnesota. All watching the still waters beneath them. Harold? Dmitri? When had they—

  Taylor should be out now. This was too long under water. Way too long.

  “TAYLOR!” she screamed. The cry seared her lungs, rang in her head, echoing forever. It was fear and anger and desperation made into a single cry. She sobbed, and from her throat a roar erupted that rivaled her last, a sound that woke the dead and silenced an entire jungle.

  A hand shot to the surface. A dozen more reached to capture it. They pulled Taylor’s limp body from the watery depths.

  “Taylor!” She was on him in an instant, pushing aside helpful hands to engulf him in an embrace that would have done him no good at all, had the lion not come to the fore and taken control.

  Lay the victim on his side to drain the water, begin chest compressions, mouth to mouth as indicated.

  Angelica was already breathing for him. Harold, seeing what she was doing, jumped in to do the chest compressions, singing under his breath to time the presses. Angelica breathed and put her mouth over Taylor’s and exhaled, forcing his chest to rise. It wasn’t working; he was going to die. Or he was dead already. She’d lost him. Dammit, she’d lost it. This was all her fault!

  He jerked suddenly, his entire body convulsing, his flesh working independent of the mind. The contractions of the stomach forced water out of his lungs and they strained for air, but there was too much left inside to block the way. He’d come to life only to drown after all.

  “Hold him!” Angelica shouted, already moving to turn him. “Upside down!”

  They all grabbed, lifted, held him as the water drained from his body. When it seemed that there could be no more water inside, she had them set him down again, motioning for Harold to resume the chest compressions. She took a deep breath, the inner cat of hers taking it, too, and they breathed as one into his mouth.

  He rose again, this time spluttering and coughing and retching. His arms flew out to scrabble at the dirt as he rid himself of the last of the water and fell back, exhausted.

  When he looked up it was with a strange wonder, as he was staring into the face of his brother. “Thanks, brother.” His voice was weak, hoarse. He coughed again, violently. It was Angelica who held him until he stopped. Taylor’s hand came up to cup her cheek, eyes saying what his mouth
could not.

  Harold sat back in silent wonder, making no move to hide the tears that escaped the rigid control he’d had for far too long.

  It was finally over.

  Something settled in Angelica’s stomach. Or maybe her heart. The lion inside her acknowledged it as well.

  Peace. Or a sense of it, for the first time in a long, long time.

  Epilogue

  “Why is it, Randall, that when we finally get away after living a nightmare you always show up at our hotel room door?” Angelica gave him a kiss on the cheek by way of welcome as she ushered him into the room.

  “Because I’m the one who’s always paying for the hotel room?” he ventured to guess.

  “Of course,” Taylor agreed without getting up. “What, you think we can swing a suite like this on my salary?” He sat on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, ankles crossed, remote pointed at the screen. He’d been trying to decide between two different ball games for the last five minutes and was driving Angelica crazy. She took the remote out of his hand and shut the TV off completely.

  “I’m currently between jobs,” Angelica reminded Taylor and plopped onto the couch beside him, snuggling in under his arm where she fit so well.

  Randall came in, chuckling, and sat in the chair indicated. “You do realize that I have a congressman wondering why half the population of a small town who all fled the country on the heels of a mad general suddenly boarded a plane and flew to Nepal,” Randall began. “And why they returned not to Minnesota, but to Canada.”

  “Wasn’t that sweet?” Angelica murmured to Taylor, still smiling for all she was worth. “It was so nice of them to come out to the wedding, even if it was half a world away.” She tilted her head to kiss Taylor’s chin.

  “Wedding?” Taylor and Randall spoke as one.

  “Is it our fault that Nepalese weddings aren’t recognized in the U.S.?” She looked as sweet and innocent as she knew how. Both men turned to each other.