He swept a hand through his dark silky hair. “I’d like to tell you a story first. It’s well-known here in the forest. Every villager knows it and it ties into your parents.”
She glanced at him quickly but he was looking at the path, choosing a way opposite of the direction Drake had pointed out as being toward the village. Whatever Brandt Talbot was up to, he had the upper hand. Maggie didn’t care. She was determined to glean as much information from him as she could. “Please do.”
He did glance at her then. She felt the power of his burning gaze, but she kept her face averted and looked as innocent as possible. Brandt shrugged his wide shoulders carelessly. “The village was younger then, with its homes closer together and in a clearing. No one thought they would be in such danger. The village had been large but time and circumstances had dwindled it down to a few pairs. The youngest were already in their thirties. They wanted a child. Everyone in the village wanted it for them. They were a deserving couple, working hard to preserve the forest, braving the poachers, destroying traps, freeing captured animals, striving tirelessly to keep the creatures under their protection safe. And finally the miracle happened.” He smiled as if remembering a wonderful moment.
“The couple was going to have a baby.”
He nodded, the faint smile lingering, reaching his golden eyes so that he took her breath away. “They had a beautiful daughter and they were very happy. The people were excited. Most of the pairs were older and had few children, so they were eager for the ritual of promise.”
Maggie pushed her hair out of her face. Strands were escaping the braid as leaves and twigs caught it and pulled as she passed by. “What is the ritual of promise?”
“These people were not merely human, Maggie, but something much more, a separate species. They were not wholly animal nor wholly man, but something of a mixture. These people were of nature itself, using a normal human form but able to become large leopards, prowling the forest to keep order. They had dominion over other creatures, and with that came inevitable responsibility.”
She had to sneak another look at his face. He was telling her a story, but he was implying the story was much more than that. She couldn’t believe such a tale—she wouldn’t believe it, no matter how charismatic Brandt was.
“Half-human, half-leopard, like the leopard men in the legends?” She tried very hard to keep the skepticism out of her voice. She had spent plenty of time reading and researching on the various tribal beliefs on half-human deities. She had always been somewhat obsessed with the subject.
“Those of this species are able to change shape at will. Not at first; when they’re young, they are regular children. The change comes later. It is known as the Han Vol Dan. The way of the change. They are not half anything but all their own species. They live and work as humans but shift when necessary. They are the guardians of the jungles, of the rain forests. A people as rare as the treasures in their keeping.”
Brandt’s fingers tangled with hers as they moved together in perfect step. Perfect rhythm. There was no stumbling over the uneven ground. No rustling of leaves or snapping of twigs. They moved as a single unit, with natural stealth and complete ease. Unexpectedly he stopped, stepped directly in front of her so that she nearly ran into him.
Maggie had no choice but to tilt her head back and look up at him. Look into his golden eyes. At once she was lost, falling under his spell, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush. Rays of sunlight filtered through the heavy foliage, casting delicate radiance through the shadows, illuminating the brilliance of colors. Birds flitted from tree branch to vine, a flutter of wings overhead. She was aware of life pulsing around them, of the ebb and flow of nature singing, of the sounds of wildlife and water. Until she looked into his eyes.
Her world narrowed to Brandt. To the mysterious secrets swirling in the depths of his eyes. To the burning hunger and need she read there. He looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world. His molten gaze moved over her face slowly, drinking her in. He brought her hand up between them, so that her palm skimmed over the muscles of his chest. Her fingers brushed his chin sending butterfly wings brushing at the pit of her stomach as she felt his mouth moving against the back of her hand. His eyes continued to hold her captive. Maggie was mesmerized, a hunted rabbit caught in the intensity of his stare. He turned her hand over, opened her fingers, and, still holding her gaze, bent his head to scrape his teeth gently in the center of her palm. His tongue swirled, a hot, moist flame, and his sculpted lips completed the brand, pressing, firm yet velvet soft over the pulsing heat.
“I know you don’t understand any of this yet, Maggie, and I thank you for your courage.” His voice wrapped her in intimacy. “I just want you to know I have the advantage of knowing about you, about your life. I know about the time you fell off your bike and had to go to the hospital for stitches. I know about you caring for your mother while she was so ill, coming back from college to stay by her side for two months, nursing her yourself.”
Maggie stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, tried to pull her hand away from his. He merely tugged her closer. “Don’t be afraid of who you are. I’m not. Of course I investigated; I couldn’t afford to be wrong. I know you’ve always loved the forest and the animals in it. So you see, I do know you. I know what kind of woman you are.”
Brandt turned away from her, walking once more, taking her with him, unable to look into her frightened eyes. He kept her hand firmly in his. He had fallen for that tenderhearted young woman he had read so much about. Like a drowning man, he had clung to every scrap of information he could ferret out about her. His emotions were already involved, and each moment spent in her company or simply observing her drew the net tighter around his heart. She didn’t know him other than as a man who tricked her, brought her to foreign soil, and attempted to seduce her into accepting him. He detested the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
Maggie bit down on her lower lip, a sharp bite to give her courage to spar with him. “Why do you do that, Brandt? Deliberately keep me off balance? I know you brought me here, I just haven’t figured out your real motive. I don’t have enough money to make it worth your while. I’m not beautiful or famous. Why don’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I have been telling you the truth. You aren’t listening to the truth.” There was no impatience in his voice. He kept walking, veering slightly along a faint path.
Maggie could hear the continual roar of a large body of water. She glanced back in the direction they had come and saw only forest, no path, no house. She was well and truly lost, dependent on Brandt to return her home safely. Her fingers were tangled with his. She told herself she didn’t want to bother with a struggle in the heat and the humidity, but the truth was, she liked the feel of him strong and protective beside her.
“I’m listening,” she said, because she could feel the heat wave starting in the pit of her stomach, spreading like a wildfire through her blood. “Tell me about the change.” Something was happening deep inside of her. Something she didn’t understand or want. She tightened her fingers around his, holding on to the only security she had while her body went up in flames. She didn’t look at him, but stared into the trees ahead of them, trying to ignore the sensations assaulting her.
“Let me finish the story, Maggie. The ritual of promise is a wedding of sorts. Two lost hearts bound together as one. The story goes that cats have nine lives. The male is reborn remembering what came before. He must find his mate. No other will do. He must recognize her and lay his claim before the onset of the Han Vol Dan. Before the change overtakes her. The ritual of promise occurs when the two live in close proximity and the male recognizes the reborn female. Or, if the soul is new, when the male recognizes his mate at an early age.”
“How can he do that?”
His eyes moved over her again. Moody. Brooding. Dark with some hidden mystery. “The aura of the woman or child calls to him, melds with his. The elders can see the two colors merge. The little
girl was recognized and promised in the ritual. But the poachers had their revenge. They had been tracking the couple, trying to find their home, wanting to be rid of them. A very clever trap was set.”
Maggie could feel the acceleration of her heart. Of his heart. She could hear them both pounding, remembering, reliving the terror. Her mouth went dry and she shook her head. “Don’t tell me any more. I don’t want to hear.”
“Because you know. You were there when they came with their guns and their torches. When your father woke your mother and bundled you up and put you in her arms. When he kissed you for the last time and turned to fight the mob, to hold them back to give your mother a chance to save you. You remember his change, the way his fur felt against your skin. And you remember your mother’s sobs as she wept and ran with you through the forest away from the village that was already being burned.”
He turned up her hand, brought her knuckles to the warmth of his mouth. “I remember it vividly, every detail, Maggie, because my mother died that night, too—oh, not right away; she lingered for months before her physical body gave up.” He couldn’t feign his sadness. It was as real as her own. She saw it in his eyes, and his poet’s heart wept.
She did remember the frightening, nightmare images—a leopard leaping, snarling, a mass of teeth and claws cutting a path while they ran with dizzying speed. She remembered her mother flinching as a shot reverberated. Her mother ran several yards, staggered, recovered valiantly, and continued. Maggie pressed a hand to her mouth. Memories? Were they real? Could her mother have run through the forest in the dead of night, away from all she had known? Away from her husband and people? Run with a terrible wound draining the life from her?
She dragged in her breath. “And she took me to Jayne. Jayne Odessa.”
“A very wealthy woman who had never had children and had always wanted them. Who was your mother’s friend and shared her concerns for the rain forest and endangered species. Who knew nothing about what your mother was, only that she loved her and would do anything to keep you safe. She witnessed your mother’s death and she took you back to the United States and legally adopted you.”
5
Maggie stood absolutely motionless. It was insanity to believe anything Brandt Talbot said, yet she knew it was true. She did have memories of that night. And Jayne Odessa had spoken often of a friend she loved very much who had died violently, tragically. A woman named Lily Hanover. The two women had worked tirelessly to preserve the rain forest and all the endangered species within it. Saving the environment had been the cause that had brought Jayne and Lily together. But Jayne had never told Maggie that Lily was her mother.
Brandt caught her chin. “Don’t feel sad, Maggie. Your parents loved you very much and they loved each other. Few people ever have that in their lifetime.”
“You knew them?” Her green gaze locked with his, daring him to lie to her.
“I was a boy, but I remember them, the way they always touched each other and smiled at each other. They were truly wonderful people who always practiced what they believed no matter what the danger.”
Maggie glanced up into the trees, caught sight of the several frogs sitting openly on the leaves. Their eyes were huge, enabling the amphibians to hunt at night. Higher up, clinging to the branches of a tree, was a small tarsier with its round shiny eyes staring down at her. He looked like a fuzzy, huggable alien creature. Her mother and father had seen these little creatures just as she was seeing them, perhaps had stood under the same tree.
“Thank you for telling me about my parents, Brandt. I understand better why Jayne was afraid for me to come here to the forest. I used to talk about it all the time and she would get upset, even cry. I longed to come to the rain forest here and in South America and in Africa. When I became a veterinarian, it was with the idea that I would be working in the wild to preserve rare species.”
“Jayne Odessa witnessed the poachers murdering Lily. She had no idea of Lily’s heritage, that she was a shapeshifter.” Brandt took a breath, let it out, all the time watching her expression carefully for signs that she was rejecting the things he was revealing to her. “It must have been so frightening for Jayne to know that poachers would murder someone just because they tried to protect the animals. And then you had to grow up just like Lily, wanting to save exotic animals.”
He stroked her hair, the lightest of caresses, but the touch sent heat spiraling through her body. She ached for him but did her best to ignore it. Though he appealed to her on so many levels, she was leery of the sheer force of the attraction between them. “I may have inherited the tendencies from my birth mother but Jayne certainly influenced me, too. She surrounded herself with books and information on habitats and endangered species, supported the causes monetarily, and volunteered for all sorts of things. Of course some of her passion rubbed off on me.”
“Do you believe the other things I told you, Maggie?” Brandt framed her face with his hands, bent his dark head toward hers as if he couldn’t bear the inches separating them. “Do you believe another species could exist? A species of shape-shifters? Do you believe you’re one of us?”
He was so close, so tempting, his golden eyes glittering with intensity. “I don’t know,” she answered carefully. “I guess it wouldn’t be all that difficult to prove.” There was a challenge in her voice.
“And have you run screaming from me?”
“I may run screaming from you anyway,” she pointed out with a small, self-mocking grin. She was watching his face, saw his sudden resolve, and her heart began beating overtime in her chest.
In the canopy overhead a monkey screamed; the flutter of wings told of birds taking flight. Brandt swung his head around quickly, alertly, his eyes suddenly flat and hard. “James! What are you doing here?”
Maggie looked in the direction Brandt was staring just as the wind shifted. She caught a vaguely familiar scent. She had smelled that presence a couple of times now, in the forest as she journeyed on her way to her parents’ home and then outside the house, near the verandah. She could barely make out the man hidden in the shadows.
“Just curious, Brandt.” The voice floated to them, almost a challenge.
Maggie instinctively moved closer to Brandt, feeling that odd “fur ruffled the wrong way” sensation she didn’t like. Brandt seemed to recognize her discomfort and circled her waist with his arm, drawing her beneath the protection of his shoulder. Before he could introduce the other man, James had melted into the bush.
Maggie held her breath, waiting, but she didn’t know for what.
Brandt left her side, tracking the other man into the foliage. When he returned he took her hand, drew her to him. “He’s gone. Don’t look so afraid.”
“Who is he?” Maggie asked.
“One of our people.” Brandt sounded grim. “One I would caution you to keep a distance from. He holds a fundamental belief that the rules apply to everyone but him.”
For no reason that Maggie could think of, she shivered violently. Her body held an aversion to the man who was hidden in the heavier foliage. Brandt immediately reacted, running his palms up and down her arms in a massage.
“Why do you touch me as if you have the right?” And why did she crave his touch? “You touch me as if it’s perfectly natural.” As if she belonged to him.
“Does it bother you so much?” His voice dropped an octave, became a husky seduction. The pad of his thumb slid over her full lower lip in a caressing stroke.
Her stomach did a flip of delight. “It bothers me because it feels…” She trailed off, her eyes locked with his. It felt right. Perfect. Exactly what she wanted. His mouth was a scant few inches from hers. The temptation of his perfectly sculpted lips was more than she could resist.
Maggie honestly didn’t know who moved first. She only knew there was magic in the brush of his mouth on hers. He was unexpectedly gentle, his lips moving over hers like the soft drift of the breeze. She felt his ravenous hunger, yet he touched her so tende
rly, coaxing her response instead of demanding one. She pressed closer to him, circling her arms around his neck, needing the feel of his body against hers.
At once his lips firmed, hardened. He deepened the kiss, his hands sliding over the contours of her body, shaping her curves, dragging her closer. Brandt pushed the edge of her shirt up to give him access to bare skin. His palms found lace over her breasts, the thinnest skimming of materials to cover luscious treasure.
His touch sent fire racing through her blood. It shook her that she could have such a reaction, such an overwhelming need. A tremor ran through her body, and she stiffened slightly, something deep within her still fighting.
He abruptly pulled his mouth away from hers, his hands lingering on her breasts, his forehead resting on hers. There was the sheen of sweat on his skin and his breathing was ragged, his body fiercely aroused. “We can’t stay here alone like this, Maggie. I don’t have nearly the control I thought I did.” He kissed her again. Gently. Persuasively. “Unless you want me the way I want you.”
Everything feminine in her rose up to answer his call. She wanted him. Craved him. But as hot as she felt, as much as she wanted to wrap herself around him, something deep within her perversely denied them both the ultimate release.
“I can’t, Brandt, I’m sorry. I don’t know why. I can’t.” She curled her fingers in his shirt, held on to him for comfort.
His hands reluctantly left her breasts, skimmed over her rib cage, caressed her flat belly. “I understand, honey. Don’t worry.” He kissed her forehead, breathing deeply to pull himself back from the edge of sexual hunger. “Let’s go somewhere safe.”
“Is there somewhere safe?” She looked up at him, knowing her eyes were shining at him. His understanding only served to make him more attractive. Brandt Talbot was an incredibly sensitive man and she was falling deeper and deeper beneath his spell.
Fantasy Page 29
