by Candi Wall
Her head pounded with the sudden racing of her heart. Small lights began to flash in front of her eyes, and she took several deep breaths. Freaking out wasn’t going to do any good. She had to stay strong. I am not going to panic. Demanding her body to relax, her heart slowed and the deafening rush in her ears receded.
After several moments, she felt almost normal. It took only a moment more to push herself forward, her body aching with the demands she put on it. A low rushing sound in the distance jolted her forward. Water! It had to be. If she could reach the river, she could follow it back to civilization.
Her spirits renewed the closer she came to the sound. Only a short distance ahead, she was sure of it. She increased her pace. The moment she found the river, she had every intention of jumping in for a long soak. Though it wouldn’t be the thorough washing she would have liked, at least her clothes and body could lose a layer of grime.
When the river finally came into sight, Myla cried out softly. She stumbled in her haste and smashed her knee against a rock. Pain lanced through her sore leg. It took a few minutes before she could stand. Slowly.
Great. Limping would slow her down even more. It wasn’t enough that snake venom curdled her blood and sapped her strength? How long had Michelle said the effects of the bite would last? Days? Weeks?
She stumbled forward, needing to see the water. Needing a tiny bit of hope. She could almost imagine the cool water against her skin. It was too bad she didn’t have a raft. Floating along the river would have been a nice way to travel. Even if her destination remained a mystery.
Chapter Seven
Damon moved along the edge of the ravine, searching for more signs of Myla. How long could she survive?
Damn his mother and her interference.
She would have to be dealt with.
With Tinjtol’s banishment, he hoped the elders might be willing to listen. To consider a new future for their tribe. His people needed to believe in him as their leader. Tinjtol, his mother, even Myla had cast doubt in their minds. Damon could not abide that. He would set the discontent to rights.
For now, he had to find Myla.
Spending the night in the jungle must have terrified her. It was his way of life, but her own must be so different. Even the limited examples in his mother’s books could not compare to suddenly finding oneself surrounded by it. Her fear should have paralyzed her.
Finding her fresh tracks this morning had both surprised him and filled him with pride. The mango pit along her path told him she had managed to find food, and the water his mother admitted to supplying should have lasted her through the day and night until she could reach the river. If she reached the river. The lingering effects of the snake venom would sap her energy quickly.
He scanned the water as he made his way down to the river’s edge. She had to be close. The tracks from where she had stopped for the night led straight to the water. His heart hammered against his chest. Images of her drowning or being dragged away by Hounta men flashed through his mind.
Each thought had its own brutal element. The harsh rocks and turbulent water around the turn ahead could be as hazardous as a meeting with a rival tribe. He squinted against the bright sunlight bouncing off the surface of the water.
A slight movement below the depths caught his attention. The object moved under the surface, nearing the top until it, or rather she, burst through. She stood waist deep in the water, her hair slicked down over her back. Her clothing clung to her like another layer of skin, showing every curve of her body. She turned slowly, the smile on her face holding him hostage among the trees.
Pale skin was visible through the damp white fabric of her shirt. It gaped open in the front where tiny drops of water glistened in the sunlight, shimmering a path down her trim stomach. Dark nipples were visible against the cloth covering her breasts, and he groaned.
Reining in the desire her wet body created, he walked in her direction. She had yet to notice he was there and dove into the water again. He waited until she submerged before wading into the river. Her inattention could get her killed. Anger created a tight sensation in his chest.
He followed her movements through the water, moving so he would be as close to her as possible when she surfaced. What was she thinking? The danger she left herself open to… It seemed to take forever. Finally, she broke the surface, her eyes closed.
“Do you not understand the dangers of this jungle?”
Her screech scattered birds into the sky. “Damon, you scared the hell out of me.” She stormed forward furiously, her eyes flashing through damp lashes. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“You should be more careful.”
In her anger, she did not bother to close her shirt, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest pushed her breasts forward in silent temptation.
She stopped inches away. “What are you doing here?”
Wading deeper into the water until it covered his waist, he grabbed her arms. “I came to find you. You need protection.”
Her eyes flashed. “I made it through the night, didn’t I?”
She had. Luckily. “You would rather be alone than with me? You dislike me this much?”
“It’s not that.” She sighed, pulling out of his grasp.
“You enjoy my touch?”
“Yes.”
Color crawled up her cheeks, and he shifted closer. “You wanted more of my kiss?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“And your body wants what mine also craves?”
She did not have to answer. The heat between them vibrated through the air. Crushing her close, he took her mouth, tasting her, demanding her reaction until her slight moan filled his mouth. She felt so fragile under his hands. He broke away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. “I learned my mother sent you away, and I came to take you back.”
She shook her head, her breathing harsh. “I can’t say I’m not happy to see you, but don’t you see that taking me back will only cause more problems? Your brother was going to kill—”
She gasped, covering her mouth.
“I did not kill him, Myla.”
“Then how are you alive?” She eyed him carefully. “You said—to the death.”
“He was banished.” His gaze refused to stray from the smooth skin exposed by her unbuttoned shirt and he curled his hands into fists to keep from touching it.
“You weren’t hurt?” Her hands fluttered over his arms and chest as she searched for wounds.
He let her look, enjoying her concern as much as her touch. “Nothing more than scratches.”
Her gaze rested on the small cut on his arm, and she ran a finger near it. “Did he do this?”
“It is nothing.” Glad the water hid the stab wound in his leg, he shrugged.
Her hands dropped to her sides. “I’m so sorry. Everything I’ve done for the past year has been to help your tribe. In the last two days, I’ve managed nothing more than to cause problems.”
Her fingers trailed through the water, and she refused to meet his eyes. He reached for her hand. “Tinjtol has been a source of discontent for some time. That is not your doing.” As much as he wished to reassure her, what she said stirred a ray of hope for his people. Bringing her hand up to his chest, he ran his fingers over hers. “In what ways have you tried to help us?”
She sighed heavily. “I belong to an agency that works to bring awareness of tribes like yours to the attention of government officials. Endurance International, or E.I. as we call it, tries to convince the government to protect the lands you call home.”
“So we are not as anonymous as I would have thought?” He pulled her with him toward the shore until the cool water lapped at the bottoms of her pants.
She sat on the rocks at the river’s edge. “No. Actually, the man I came here with, his name was John, made huge strides in bringing awareness of your tribe’s plight to E.I. We have pictures and tons of research. Though I’m fairly new to E.I. by others’ standards, my r
elationship with John gave me more chances to study your tribe as well.”
“And this John? Where is he now?” Subtle pressure pressed in his chest at her mention this other man. Foolish emotions. She was not his. He sat down next to her and waited.
Scooping a handful of the smooth river rocks, she tossed one into the water. “He died. Over a year ago now.”
“I am sorry you lost him.”
Another rock sailed into the water. “It was difficult. When he disappeared, I took over where he left off.” She turned to glance at him. “When it became apparent that InterCorp Oil had no intention of complying with the government sanctions and regulations, I took a job with them. To see what I could discover.”
That explained her uniform. She ran a hand through her hair, and his fingers itched to touch the silken strands. Instead, he shifted back to lean against the rocks. “A dangerous way to gather information for a tribe you know nothing about and have no loyalty to.”
Her features softened and a small smile curved her lips. “You and your people are a part of humanity as a whole. You have withstood the onslaught of technology, living alongside of us, though in a world so much different it’s astounding. Our people, with all the resources we already have, find it necessary to encroach on the meager lands you have left to you. What else could I do but try to help?”
“Many would not.” Numerous others chose such a path.
“True. But that’s because a lot of people have no idea you exist. Half of our efforts are to teach awareness about tribes like yours.”
Stunned. That could only explain the strange emotions her words caused. There were people who actually wanted to help. Besides the man who had come to him in friendship, he had only seen the men who wished to cause harm. “There are many you say, but which numbers weigh heavier? The men that kill or the people who wish to help?”
Her hand stopped mid-throw and she met his gaze. “I think with what E.I. has accomplished, there are more that want to help.” She shifted before waving her hand around at the jungle. “You have to understand, there are any number of other atrocities happening all over the world. It takes time to recruit enough people to a cause before we will make a marked difference.”
He scowled at that. “What could be more important than the survival of my people?”
Her soft laughter drifted over the sound of the rushing water. “Damon, to you, there is nothing as important. But if a neighboring tribe was starving, and you only had enough food stores for your own people, would you give it away?”
“No. But I would try to help them.”
Her shoulders slumped. “As we are.”
Realization burned through his mind. His people were his utmost concern. Not so for others. There was no fault in that. She was right. Other tribes died off, and even when he had tried to help, his own people had remained the most important. “We are more alike than I would have ever thought.”
Her hand covered his, the blue of her eyes bright. “We are all human. It’s natural to protect what is ours.”
And yet, she was putting herself in danger to protect his people. He traced his thumb over her fingers. “You are more human than most. More civilized. You endanger yourself to help my people when we have never asked for your assistance or offered anything in return.”
She shook her head and pulled her hand away. “While we are considered civilized, after experiencing your tribe, I have to admit your people and your way of life is much more so. You don’t pollute the earth or waste what you have. There are no murders or theft.”
“Tinjtol has killed the white men.”
“Was it to protect himself or others?”
“I do not know,” Damon admitted. Tinjtol’s actions were sporadic. “At one time, I believed he thought of our people. Now, I wonder if he has no more reason than hatred.”
She sighed and plucked a smooth stone from the ground to twirl it between her fingers. “Being here, seeing what you face and what has happened to your people makes me question everything I’ve ever known about who is civilized and who is wild.”
“Why do you care what happens to my tribe?”
The small stone she held sailed through the air to skip across the water. “I came here with a man who showed me that my life was not as bad as I’d once thought. The cruelty I’d suffered at my father’s heavy hand and ugly words was nothing compared to the suffering in these tribes.” She glanced at him before shaking her head. “John showed me that even if we come from harsh circumstances, there are always those who are worse off.”
“You love this man?”
She nodded. “Always.”
Their conversation had changed course, and he wanted to know more about how dangerous their situation really was and less about the man who held her heart. “What did you learn working with our enemy?”
“Where I’d hoped to find proof of InterCorp’s misuse of protected lands, which I did, I also discovered a completely separate issue. Innumerable barrels of oil are being stockpiled and shipped to a refinery, off the books. I never figured out what happened to it from there, but I assume someone is making a tidy profit.”
“Off the books?”
She pulled her hair over her shoulder and twisted it. “Sorry. I forget you’re not used to slang expressions. It means that the oil won’t be tracked by the company, not paid for, and no government or country will know it was taken.”
“Why does this matter?”
“Because there are restrictions on the amount of oil a company can take.” Her fingers smoothed over a pebble. “The government limits the amounts harvested so our natural resources aren’t depleted.”
He tried to form the pattern of her laws in his mind. “So taking oil—off the books—means they break laws?”
She smiled. “That is exactly what it means.”
He did not like the sound of that. At all. “This information sounds dangerous.”
She nodded and tossed the remaining rocks she held into the water. “What I discovered could be enough to shut down InterCorp’s operations for a long time. It certainly isn’t something they want publicized.”
“And that is what your—tribe—planned to do?”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Or use it against them to keep them away from your land.”
Damon leaned back against the rocks. The thought that there were people he did not even know—never would have known existed if not for Myla—working to protect his people, was oddly satisfying.
The white men’s scattered presence had increased over time. In a few short years the numbers were staggering. The limited encounters with them had not led him to believe there were many who wanted to help.
The white man who had come to him originally, years ago, had been the first of many, though the only one to make peaceful contact during his reign as bajluk. The rest rummaged through the land, killing as they went. They were not kind, like Myla. “This information you possess. Is it the reason you are here?”
“I spent a lot of time thinking last night. It was all I could do since sleep wasn’t going to happen.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “And I wonder now if the crash was an accident. I thought I’d been very careful, but it’s possible someone figured out what I was doing and tried to get rid of me. The helicopter excursion was unscheduled, and I was told that I needed to plan a new drilling sight.”
He stood and held out a hand. “If someone wishes to harm you, they will kill me first. Until you are no longer in danger, you will stay with me?”
She stared at his hand for a moment, indecision written in the taut lines of her face. Her gaze shifted up the river then back, and Damon waited, disturbed by the need within him for her to agree. He was not ready for her to leave.
After a moment more, she reached out and took his hand. “I will have to return, but while I’m here, I might be able to convince your tribe of E.I.’s intentions to help. Maybe together, we can convince them that fighting InterCorp’s men is not the w
ay.”
Damon helped her up the embankment, excitement burning in his chest. “With Tinjtol’s banishment, I am certain we can sway them. The elders would choose peace before any other option.”
She chewed at her lip as she stepped up next to him on the solid land that overlooked the water. “Damon?”
The concern in her voice worried him. “What troubles you?”
“Would you consider coming back with me when I return?” She placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers smooth and warm on his skin. “You could speak to the government officials, make them understand what InterCorp has done and what devastation their actions have caused for your people.”
He looked around at the jungle. Could he leave his home to venture into her world? He had never known anything else. He would never leave permanently, but for such a cause, to help his tribe and maybe to be near her for a bit longer… “I will consider it.”
“That’s all I’ll ask from you.” Her smile brightened his mood, though there was a devilish light in her eyes when she added, “For now.”
He nodded and glanced down at her hand still pressed to his skin. Heat coursed through him from the simple touch. She started to pull away, but he closed his hand over hers, holding it still. “I like your touch.”
Myla sucked in a deep breath. Her excitement at his consideration of speaking for his people took a quick turn. It was a bit like shifting gears. He liked her touch. And oh, how she liked touching. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
He shrugged and the simple movement rippled the muscles beneath her fingers. “My mother sent you on a dangerous path. We should be going before we are discovered.”
Definitely like shifting gears, though he seemed to have an issue with his transmission. He’d gone from warm to hot to cold with jarring rapidity. “Are we in danger?”
He glanced around. “We are on Hounta land. If discovered, we will be killed.”
She cringed. A simple yes would have sufficed. “Then let’s go.”
