“Close,” Dee assured her. “But the herds will be here every morning. The lions won’t.”
“Where are they?” Dumb question. I didn’t need Dee’s eye roll to tell me that.
Still, she humored me. “We were on that escarpment yesterday”—she pointed back the way we’d come, to the northwest—“so probably somewhere between here and there right now. If we spot them, we might not have time to focus up the tripods. Depends on how close they are and how much time they take getting here.”
Reena nodded her understanding.
Dee’s instincts were dead on. Within 15 minutes, she pointed a few dozen yards to our right. “Sheba.” Then, “Portia…and her cubs!” Something had amped up Dee’s excitement.
“That’s good, right?” I asked as she and Gary set out the dual tripods while Reena kept track of the lionesses with her handheld.
“It means Portia is teaching the cubs to hunt. They might just watch today, or they might get a chance at the kill themselves.” She grinned, her face flushed, as beautiful as the African vista. “This is new for me too!”
She and Reena manned their tripods, Reena tossing her digital handheld to Gary. He framed me in front of the camerawomen, switching on the mic.
“Insulin levels have dropped since the last time they hunted,” I stage-whispered for effect, “and pangs of hunger are driving the lions to hunt again. Wait!” I looked off to the right, then turned back to the camera. “Portia has brought her cubs. Will she be teaching them to hunt today? Let’s watch.” I raised up the binoculars leashed around my neck and Gary switched off mic and camera.
I could feel Dee’s scowl from behind her lens. She didn’t like to be reminded we were here to entertain not educate.
With my part done, I was free to watch the hunt. The cubs indeed were getting the chance to participate. Pure gold for the episode. They targeted an antelope herd—Lesser Kudus, Dee called them; bigger than the springboks we saw driving in the day before yesterday, but not so large as some of the other antelopes here, and nowhere near the size of the large wildebeests Dee pointed out grazing further on.
The female cub, Cleopatra—Cleo, as Dee referred more familiarly to her—rushed the herd first, the kudus squealing in alarm and springing away. Cleo lunged for the kudu that sprang last, but it twisted away from her, and she missed, unable to anticipate its feint or respond quickly enough to it, caught by surprise as she was. A novice mistake, as Dee told us.
Sulking, Cleo dropped back with her aunt and mother while Caesar took his turn. He stalked up close, but the herd was wary now. Making his rush, he lunged, catching a paw around a kudu neck. He hung for the briefest moment, but the attempt was just short and he fell back, his claw leaving deep gashes in the kudu but missing the kill.
Beside me, Gary was breathing fast and loud.
“Knock it off. You’ll hyperventilate.” My admonishment didn’t have much of an effect, but I couldn’t worry about him now as I waited to see what the lionesses would do next.
They stalked up on the herd again. This time both cubs hung back to watch as Portia and Sheba, their tag-team action nailed, gave chase. Sheba picked out one of the kudu from the herd, forcing it toward Portia. One finely calculated leap and Portia grabbed the kudu’s neck between her powerful forelegs and wrenched the unfortunate beast down.
“Oh no, no. No. I can’t watch this,” Gary panted.
Whether it was from broken vertebrae or the jaws clamped around its windpipe to suffocate it, the kudu thrashed a couple of times, then went still, half-hidden from us in the tall grass. Portia backed away.
From further behind where the cubs waited, Brutus and Nana strolled up to the kill like the royalty they were to feast first on the tastiest bits before the lionesses who’d made the kill joined them. Only then were the cubs allowed up.
By then, bald-headed vultures were already alighting, hopping on the ground nearby, waiting for the lions to eat their fill and leave.
“Give me 30 feet,” Reena called to me. “And wear a mic.”
I popped the Bluetooth clip-on to my collar, then struck out across the grass toward the feeding lions, Reena’s camera following me.
“What the—?”
Dee swearing behind me was something I trusted to Gary to handle. Right now my full attention had to be on the lions and the camera. Stopping about midway out, close enough that Brutus and his harem paused their eating as I approached but not close enough to fluster the vultures, I turned halfway back around so I didn’t take my eyes off the lions but so I could address my future audience directly.
“These cubs learned two vital lessons today: first, the importance of teamwork, and second, that it takes three things to be a successful lion—practice, practice, practice.”
Impatience got the better of one of the hungry vultures. It dodged in, wings flapping to distract the big cats and escaped with a gobbet of meat to enjoy. I watched the little drama, then turned back to the camera with a grin. “Oh, and a third lesson—never take your eyes off your lunch.”
As I switched the mic off, Reena waved me back with a hurried hand. Something was up.
Suddenly Brutus’ head reared up, his nose high, casting for scent. He whuffed, a sound of irritation.
I took another step back. He growled.
Another step.
He swung his head and growled again.
Two more steps. Only 20 more to go.
Sheba was on alert now too. I didn’t know if she had hackles to raise, but by her posture they would be if she did. Growling, she padded around in a circle.
Two more steps.
The rest of the pride was clearly agitated now.
It sunk in at last that I wasn’t the target. They knew I was there and weren’t making eye contact, or even looking my way.
And then I saw why.
A pack of dogs stalked into view.
No, not dogs. This was Africa. What I first took for spotted dogs now showed themselves to be some mutant-looking thing, like a hybrid cross between a coyote and a cheetah, with rounded ears and mouths that were all teeth. And the sound they were making was something between a choked chirp and a yip that resolved itself into a frustrated, high-pitched demonic laugh that couldn’t have been coming from these creatures…but was.
Hyenas.
With the lions distracted, my retreat was steady and confident now. Dignified. I hoped either Reena or Dee was following my progress, but both cameras were turned on the hyenas as they circled closer to the lions and their kill.
“Surely they aren’t going to challenge the lions.” There were eight hyenas by my count, each between half and three-quarters the weight of the cubs. Surprisingly large for what I’d imagined a hyena to be. Still, a challenge would be either very brave or very stupid. And I suspected nothing survived for long out here by being stupid.
“No,” Dee said. “If there were only one or two lions, maybe. Just the cubs, certainly. With six lions they’re going for the annoyance factor. Imagine a group of kids around the dinner table asking, ‘Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?’ repeatedly. They’ll make pests of themselves until the lions finally reach the point when they’re full enough and the hyenas annoying enough that hanging around isn’t worth it.”
“Why don’t the lions do something?”
“Like attack? Takes too much energy when it’s not life-threatening. I have seen the lions take a swipe or two at hyenas that got a little too close, and even seen a half-hearted chase or two, but no real fights. A pack of hyenas against a single lion, though, I’m betting on the hyenas. They can be mean little devils.”
For another 30 minutes the lions fed, putting up with the ever-escalating squabbling from the hyenas. Finally, as fascinating as it was to watch, even I was reaching my tolerance point. Using binoculars, I could see the lions had done a lot of damage to the carcass, taking it down nearly to the bones. Portia tugged at a hindquarter that still had some meat on it and dragged it with her when t
he lions finally left the table to go back home.
“Her doggy bag.” Dee grinned. “She’s had to bring something home for the cubs for the last few months. I guess that’s going to be a hard habit to break.”
The pride had only begun to troop off when the hyenas fell over the leftovers, snapping at the vultures that closed in with them. Already another circle of scavengers—kites and meerkats and badgers and more—was beginning to form.
“And after them, tonight, the smaller vermin and lizards will come, and after them all the insects. Nothing of that kudu will go to waste,” Dee pointed out.
“Fine to say if you aren’t the kudu,” Gary piped in. “That was horrible.”
I knew Dee held little love for Gary, so when she faced him, I expected plenty of snark at the worst and a Lion King lecture about the circle of life at best. Damn if the woman didn’t still have a surprise up her short, tanned-arm-baring sleeve.
“When I saw my first kill like that live and up close, I threw up,” she confided. “It’s all about herd and family out here. I barely knew the pride, and the cubs weren’t born yet. All I could think about was the zebra mare. How fair was it that she had survived four, five, maybe six years, only to be grazing peacefully one minute and attacked and killed the next? Did she have a foal or a sister or a mother who would mourn her? Who would be traumatized by watching her die so violently? She’d be a meal for a couple of days and then she’d be gone, the animals who’d feasted on her would be hungry all over again, and then there’d be no more memory of her.
“After a while, I started rationalizing it, then became inured to it, until I rarely think about it now because my bond with the lions and their needs has become so great. Or until someone like you comes along and reminds me that every life has meaning and every death is a sad tragedy for herd or family.
“It is horrible. Because the rules we’re forced to play by are horrible. And the consequences for not playing by the rules more horrible yet. If I could fix it so there was no more death and no more tears, would I? Or could it be we only grow through pain and fear? If you have the answer, let me know. Out here, we just have to accept that what is, is, and choose a side to be most sympathetic to—predator or prey.”
Good on Reena—there was a live mic capturing all of this. Mary and Jermaine back at the studio would surely be able to edit some sound bytes into the final cut. It was fortunate our location scouts had found Dee, someone both articulate and photogenic, who wasn’t bothered by the cameras and who came across as natural and real. All in all, this episode was shaping up better than I first feared.
I only wished my relationship with Dee was going as well. Why did some people have to be so complicated?
CHAPTER 9
Dee
It was amazing how a routine of only two days could already feel so expected and comfortable. I woke the next day to another eyeful of Chris working out as I busied myself with breakfast. Somehow I’d fallen into the role of designated cook, even if I wasn’t the only one here capable of building a fire or operating a camp stove. I suspected it would have actually bothered me less if it had felt more like a traditional male-female role thing and not about class. A division of labor, each of us working with the skills we were best at, I would have no problem with. But if I had to guess, they probably brought in outside help to cook and clean back home. Which, more power to both parties in a clear employer-employee relationship. Which we clearly didn’t have here.
“So, we’re down to fresh ingredients to supplement a couple of meals at most before we break out the ready meals full-time,” I said as everyone was diving into bacon strips and guinea egg omelets. “Who’s up for cooking dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast?”
Reena’s blank stare was wholly expected. She was a hard woman to figure out, seemingly unfazed by anything that didn’t have to do with cameras and video. For all the emotion she showed filming the lions’ hunt yesterday, she might have been filming sleeping lions at a zoo. Photojournalism and documentaries demanded solid, stable personalities behind the camera, of course. But showing a hint of interest in the subject once the cameras were off not only wouldn’t violate any ethical code of standards, it would help prove the person behind the camera was a warm and thinking human being.
I suspected Reena had those qualities buried under that perfect, cool and unflustered exterior. I just didn’t know how to encourage them out. Or even if I should try. Maybe she needed that aloofness to deal with things in her past.
In any case, she wasn’t going to be the one breaking any eggs in the morning.
Gary’s wide eyes had almost the same hint of horror I’d seen in them yesterday. He was the perfect foil to Reena’s aloofness, every emotion shared to the world on his dark, expressive face. There was never any guesswork about exactly what he was feeling and how he felt about it—whether it was me, the situation or life in general.
That refreshing honesty, though, refreshed only to a point before it slid over into drama queen country when someone was as emotive as Gary. Two weeks would probably be my tolerance for him, even if he weren’t continually watching me and shooting jealous glares my way. How Chris put up with him for longer…
“I’ll do it.” Chris shrugged and, caught off guard, I had to consciously shut the gape my jaw dropped into.
“You will?” There was no hiding the surprise in my voice.
Chris flashed that toe-curling grin of his. “What? You think being a pretty boy is my only skill?”
That thought had more than simply crossed my mind, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Not aloud anyway. I was pretty sure my expression was doing all the silent conveyance Chris needed.
“The kitchen’ll be all yours, then,” I agreed. “Got any other surprises up your sleeve I should know about?”
“My sleeve, no, but I’m betting you’d find a big surprise or two up some other clothing parts.” A single waggle of his eyebrows left no doubt what he was alluding to.
I willed myself not to blush although I felt the rising heat. “Yeah, let’s just keep those surprises wrapped up for now, shall we?”
“As you wish. But any time you want a peek, just give the bow a tug.”
Jesus, even the innuendo made my butt clench as a jolt of pure want shot up from between my legs. I covered the rush of desire with the best smirk I could muster, not trusting my voice to any further repartee.
Gary’s sharp glare could cut glass as he carved it first my way then toward Chris. With thinned lips, he rose, turned with an angry flaunt and disappeared behind the vehicles.
“Why do you tease him like that?” I chided.
“It wasn’t him I was teasing.”
That time I did blush.
“Look, Gary’s a nice guy. I can’t help how he feels about me. I wish I could feel the same way about him. Hell, I’ve even tried to give him what he wanted. Why not? But it just didn’t work for me. And I’m not going to give up what does work—magnificently well, thank you very much”—he threw a pointed look at Reena—“just to spare his feelings. Not when he insists on personally assisting me 24/7. That’s just not possible. So what, you’d rather I lie to him—or me—by not being who I am?”
He had a point there I could concede, but I was also intrigued. “And who are you, Chris Corsair?”
Those perfect lips of his started to twitch back up into his trademark grin but didn’t quite make it before they fell. “I thought I knew. Rich playboy always sounded like a great job description, you know. But you look around, how many old, rich playboys do you see? Not enough to make me think you can be all three. So old and rich is my new goal—assuming I can give up number three.”
“Seems like the solution to that is fairly simple.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you. But there’s a whole mentality there. It’s not just all about how many women you can bed, but the whole game around it. The whole lifestyle. I don’t know it’s something I can give up, no matter how much I might want to. And a piece of me
will probably never want to.”
Both Reena’s gaze and mine automatically—inevitably—dropped down.
He snorted. “No, I don’t mean that piece. Although it’ll likely take some serious convincing. It likes being a playboy—a lot. Not denying that at all.
“You asked me who I am? A man in transition. I can tell you who I was and maybe where I want to be—eventually. Months or years down the road. But who I am today?” His brow furrowed as he gave his head a slight shake. “I’m not sure I can tell you that. I’m not sure I know.”
“You’re an actor,” I said quietly. “Anything you say—no matter how sincere you might truly be—will always be suspect.”
He looked at me then, long and deep with eyes that swore truth. Gorgeous soulful eyes that made me want to believe. “I’ll share another secret with you,” he said, just as quietly. “I’m not that good an actor.”
If I believed that, I would have to believe everything else he’d shared.
Why did it matter to him what I believed?
Why did it matter to me?
CHAPTER 10
Chris
Why I’d opened up to Dee, I didn’t know. It seemed right at the time, but as we trudged up to the rock escarpment where the pride made their home, I became more convinced that making myself comfortable like that in front of any woman was demeaning. And in front of women as strong-minded as Dee, it was especially degrading. What Reena thought, of course, didn’t count. She’d heard it all from me by now. What she believed from all that I couldn’t begin to guess.
Gary was the one hurt most in all this. I felt for the guy; I truly did. But he set himself up for that pain by holding on to a hope for a relationship I’d made clear could never be. The same as Reena had done for me. If I was hurt by Reena’s rejection, it was only because I’d set up an unrealistic expectation between her and me, and assigned myself unrealistic powers of seduction to believe I could have any woman I turned my sultry gaze on.
Proud Hearts (Wild Hearts Romance Book 2) Page 4
