Amber Fire (4 page)

“I didn't show up in your camp last week just to save you from those jags,” he admitted. “I came to see how close you were to getting inside that cavern. I had to decide how much longer you could stay.”

She waved a frustrated hand in the air. “Even if we leave,” she said, touching her temple, taking a moment to calm herself, “these Hunters know where the cavern is now.”

“Plans are underway to remove all sensitive information.”

She fired back another question. “Then why let us stay at all after we found the cavern?”

“You're nowhere near the area we feel is sensitive,” he said. “It was decided that if you were allowed to work and found nothing, it would discourage Hunter interest. And I wasn't going to allow you to leave being marked a Hunter, as an enemy of Yaguara for the rest of your life, if it was undeserved.”

She paled, settling back down on the rock. “Marked.” Her delicate throat bobbed as she swallowed. He remembered kissing it, the gentle curve. “What does that mean?” she asked.

Dragging his gaze to her eye level, he replied, “Yaguara want to know their enemies. I'm sure you understand why this is critical.”

“Do you hunt them as they do you?”

He did not miss the direct question. He answered it indirectly. “Killing a human without cause is a criminal offense among Yaguara, and before you ask, yes, the Yaguara is organized. It has government. It has soldiers. It has rules. And those rules are taken seriously. Every kill is documented and justified before their leaders.”

She drew a long breath. “And I'm traveling with people who are ‘marked,' as you call it. That's how you found me?”

He gave her another grim nod. She hugged herself, stared at him, distress overflowing from the rims of her big, green eyes. “I can't believe you thought I was one of them.”

“I didn't,” he said. And that was the truth.

Her lips tightened. “You seemed pretty damn convinced in that pond at one point.”

In a flash, he leaned into her, wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was so tiny, delicate in body, but so tough inside. Her arms wrapped around his neck, offering the acceptance he'd longed for from her, as he had not from any other woman in his very long life. He brushed his lips over hers.

“Did I?” he whispered. “Because I'm pretty damn sure what you felt out there was how much I wanted you to be innocent.”

Her lips quivered next to his, a challenge following. “Why do you care?”

He shouldn't. He was a Sentinel. A guardian of his people. And though all Sentinels vowed to protect innocent lives, he'd gone far beyond duty for Amber. But the truth was, the very thought of her being a Hunter had twisted him in knots. Clawed at him like the swift swipe of an enemy's blade. Even now, there was a knot in his chest.

“I haven't decided that yet.” He forced himself to release her, to lean back on his heels. Steeling himself for duty, he forced aside this damnable attraction to Amber. They stared at one another, tension and awareness crackling in the air before he issued the warning he'd spoken a week before. “Go home before someone gets hurt. That's as clear as I can be.”

She considered him a moment longer, and then nodded, reluctant acceptance washing over her face. “I have to find a believable reason to leave. Everyone knows how important this grant is to me, how important my father's work is to me. He . . . was attacked by thieves and killed at a dig site a year ago. He lived a few hours at the hospital. I never saw him. I couldn't get there in time. But I talked to him. I . . .” She looked away. Inhaled and composed herself before refocusing on Jareth. “He asked me to keep his private journals, but for my eyes only. You have no idea how hard it was to convince the investors to allow me to use his grant money to come here. If not for Mike—well, his support means a lot. His willingness to come along convinced the right people that this was worth doing. I have to talk to him. I'll need his support.”

“Why would you have to convince Mike to help you?” he asked. “I thought he was your father's partner?”

“They had a falling out about a year before my father died,” Amber said. “They broke all ties. But when my father died, he was there for me. I have no idea what happened between him and my father, but I've known him all my life. I trust him.”

Mike was probably the money behind this operation. Him and his Hunters. “You cannot tell Mike, or anyone else anything, Amber. Trust no one.”

“Except you.”

“That's right,” he said. “Except me. As I must trust you.”

Jareth had seen where intimate interaction with humans could lead. The death of so many Indians was but one example. Amber had no idea how vehemently Jareth had disapproved of the few humans who had been allowed inside the Yaguara inner circle. But now, here he was, forced to not only involve a human, but to trust one himself. And he'd picked a woman whose father had been one of the most prominent Hunters in existence. He'd actually wanted her to deserve his trust. It was a questionable decision, at best. But one he'd made. One he had to live with, or perhaps, die because of.

“You ask a lot,” she said, her hands settled on his upper arms. The wind lifted her hair, blew a strand in her face, touching his. She brushed it away and added, “I barely know you.”

She'd invited him into that water knowing what he was, knowing he was half man, half beast. On some level, she trusted him as he did her. “You know far more about me than most do, I promise you.”

“You want me to trust you?” she challenged. “Then trust me. Stop referring to Yaguara in the third person.”

He wasn't willing to offer the confession she sought. “The less you know . . .” he said, a flash of memory besieging him—of Indians tied down, tortured to reveal Yaguara names. He couldn't let that happen to her. He wouldn't. “. . . the safer you will be.”

“Somehow I doubt I will ever be safe again,” she whispered.

The truth rolled through him, along with unexplainable protectiveness. He doubted she had
ever
been truly safe. Not with the man who had been her father. Holy hell, he wondered if her mother had really been killed in childbirth, as their counsel's reports indicated, or had somehow been a victim of this war between Hunters and Yaguara.

“Say it,” she urged.

He'd do nothing of the sort. “There is nothing to say.”

She shoved out of his arms. Pushed away. “Then, no. No, I will not trust you and you alone. You must give trust to get it.”

He caught her, tugged her back against his body. Her gaze lifted, meeting his with a challenge. “Stubborn woman,” he ground out. “You have no idea what you are asking.”

“I'm in this,” she reminded him. “
You
said that yourself. Ignorance isn't going to protect me.”

Yes, she was involved now. And he was, too. Involved with her in ways he didn't try to explain. She was under his skin, inside him, around him. Driving him wild. He kissed her, devoured her mouth with long deep strokes of his tongue, strokes that demanded her response, his hand sliding over her backside with a firm, possessive touch. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving in to the fiery attraction that neither of them could deny, nor could they fight.

He backed her against a tree, deepening the kiss, trapping her against the surface as he had trapped her against those rocks. Some part of him afraid she would escape. That she would want to escape. He reacted to that thought, drawing her leg to his waist and fitting his cock to the sweet V of her body. Reminding her who was in control.

She moaned and shoved his chest. “Stop distracting me,” she ordered hoarsely, demanding her own bit of control. “Pleasure changes nothing. Trust me. Tell me what I want to know.”

A hard knot tightened in his chest. He had no idea why this woman had such a powerful effect on him, but her eyes, her words, her soft body pressed to his, compelled him to do as she bid. “I am Yaguara.” And with that confession, he admitted to himself what he believed he'd known the day he met her. He was never going to let her go.

E
motion, awareness, heat—all of these things fluttered wildly within Amber as Jareth walked her to the outskirts of her camp. Amber was pretty sure it was insane to be falling for a man such as himself, a Yaguara—as much animal as human. She was, after all, an educated woman who prided herself on common sense. What she felt for Jareth had nothing to do with common sense, though, of that she was certain. But as she turned to face him, stared at those piercing teal eyes, and felt her throat go dry, she took comfort in knowing that she had at least sensed he was Yaguara. That she had sensed he needed protection in some way—protection she could offer by departing. No discovery was worth endangering an entire species, let alone her team, and she knew her father would have agreed.

She drew a breath as he stepped closer, fitted his hips to hers, one hand settling on her waist. Erotic images flashed in her mind—of him inside her, touching her.

“Remember,” he said, fingers stroking her jaw. “Say nothing to anyone. This is for their safety and yours. The Wildlife Preservation authorities will be here in the morning with a restraining order in hand.”

Finding out Yaguara had friends in the right places, friends who would get her out of all of this, was a relief. “I'm still not looking forward to Mike's flip-out. He is going to go nuts when they show up accusing us of endangering the wildlife.”

“Let him,” he said. “Either way, you will have to abandon camp and regroup. That gets you out of here safely, and then we'll talk through what to do from there.”

Her brow arched. “We?” she asked. It might be silly, but for the first time since her father's death, she didn't feel alone. It was silly. She barely knew Jareth, yet . . . she couldn't help but feel everything in her life had been leading here—to him. Maybe she was destined to help Yaguara rather than expose them.

“We,” he agreed softly. “You are a part of this, Amber. I will not leave you to face it alone. You have my word.”

Amber stared up at Jareth's strong features, shadowed by the beam of moonlight twining through tree limbs, wishing she could read his expression. She didn't need to see his face though, to feel the growing bond between them. It made her weak in the knees, damp between the legs, and warm in the heart. That was surreal, considering the violence responsible for bringing them together.

“Help! Help! We need help!”

The distant shout tore through the calm moment and settled in her stomach with the jagged-edged promise that something horrible had happened. Jareth and Amber locked gazes, silent understanding between them, and they launched into a run, toward the camp. The shouts grew louder, more urgent. The instant they entered the camp, a huddle of workers surrounded them.

“Jaguars!”

“A cat attacked Chris!”

Amber's heart fell to her feet. Chris was twenty-two—a college intern. Too young to die.

“Is he alone?” Amber demanded.

“No,” the man said. “Mike and many others are with him. The cats won't let them touch Chris.”

“Where?” Jareth demanded.

Another man responded, “Over the hill, over the hill!”

“I can take you! But you will need a gun,” the first man said. “The cats are everywhere.”

“I don't need a gun,” Jareth said. “I suspect that's what got us in this situation in the first place.” Jareth turned to Amber. “Stay here.” He didn't give her time to respond. He cut his gaze back to the man. “Take me.”

Amber wasn't about to stay behind. “Jareth . . .” But he was already on the move, leaving her behind. Amber hesitated, recognizing she had to leave prepared. Jareth might not need protection, but she did. Racing toward the cluster of tents at one corner of the camp, she found her own, and snagged a tranquilizer gun from inside. Not that she thought she would need it with Jareth around, but he'd left her behind, and she had to reach him.

In a matter of seconds, she returned to the company of her frazzled workers. “It's going to be okay,” she assured them all. She hoped. She prayed. Poor Chris. She raised her voice. “Everyone, stay calm and be ready with your weapons in case they are needed. Do not fire unless absolutely necessary. You might make it worse.” She turned to one of the women. “Call for an ambulance.” She motioned to several men. “Go to the road to direct them back here.” Then she focused on one of the two men who'd informed them of the danger, of Chris being somewhere over the hill. “Take me to Chris.”

For an instant he hesitated, as if afraid, his hands tightly gripping his weapon before he started running. Amber's heart raced, partly from what she estimated to be a two-mile hard run up a steep, rocky mountain terrain, but more so from the fear of what she would see when she found Chris.

And that fear turned out to have good cause when they cleared the top of the slope and found themselves right inside the scene unfolding. Amber stopped dead in her tracks, barely biting back a gasp, at the sight of Chris lying on the ground, his chest mangled and bleeding, clearly having taken a swipe from a powerful paw.

Jareth, and Jareth alone, stood beside him, with an intimidating line of at least a half-dozen snarling, bigger-than-life jaguars a few feet behind him. Yet he appeared unfazed. Ten-plus men stood opposite the cats, weapons aimed.

Mike was amongst those men, and the only one not aiming his weapon at the cats—he was aiming at Jareth. Amber's racing heart dropped to her stomach. “What's going on, Mike?!” she demanded.

“What's going on,” Mike said, “is that your buddy here is the only one those cats will let near Chris. Something isn't right about that. Something is damn wrong, in fact.”

Jareth looked at Amber. “I told him I'd nursed a cub back to health,” he said. “The cats know me. And they know I don't mean them any harm.” He leaned in to pick up Chris.

“Don't move or I'll be shooting at you!” Mike shouted. “Because that's a bunch of crap for an answer. Those cats are wild. They don't give a shit if you nursed a cub. They'd still kill a normal person if they got the chance. But there isn't a damn thing normal about you, is there?”

Jareth gave him an icy look. “Those cats can smell danger. They know who means them harm. And it's not me.”

“Damn you, Mike!” Amber launched herself forward, acting before she let fear get the best of her. Chris needed help, and Amber wasn't allowing Jareth's secret to be discovered while he tried to save a man's life. Something Mike was too busy making accusations to do.

“Amber!” Mike screamed. Several other shouts mingled with his.

In an instant, alive and untouched by the cats, Amber squatted down beside Chris. “Oh God,” she whispered, at the terrifying contrast of blood and pale skin on Chris. They were losing valuable time while Mike held them hostage with accusations.

Amber rotated on her heels and glared over at Mike. “The issue is not Jareth, Mike, or the cats would be attacking me.” Emotion radiated in her voice. She was responsible for protecting her crew, and Chris was bleeding to death. She'd trusted Mike like a father. “It's you and your damn guns. The guns weren't supposed to be on my dig site in the first place!” Amber turned back to Jareth and cast him a pleading look. “Please. Help him.”

Jareth's eyes met hers, respect and appreciation in their depths. Then he picked up Chris as one might a child. He knew she'd covered for him, that she understood the risk he'd taken by showing his ability to approach the cats in order to help Chris.

Jareth started walking and Amber followed. “I called for an ambulance.”

Mike took a step toward them. The cats snarled a warning that stopped him in his tracks. “The cats will let them pass once they know we're a safe distance away,” Jareth assured her but didn't wait for a reply. He began a slow jog down the hill, carrying Chris's two hundred pounds with inhuman ease.

They made the rest of the run in silence, stepping into camp to a rumble of worried voices and thankfully, an ambulance in waiting. The emergency team rushed toward them with a rolling bed, and Jareth set Chris on top. It was clear that Chris had taken one massive blow across the chest. In what felt like minutes, but was more like seconds, the crew had Chris inside the ambulance.

Amber ran to the door. “What hospital?” The driver shouted a name and pulled the doors shut, the grim expression on his face not at all comforting.

Amber whirled around to face Jareth, his dark shirt matted with the stickiness of blood. Her stomach rolled with the realization of how much blood Chris really had lost. “I have to go to the hospital, but the others . . . I need to know they're safe.”

He grabbed her and pulled her close. “They're fine,” he said. “I promise. Go to the hospital, and I can meet you there soon.” Then he kissed her forehead.

It was a tender act, and she wanted nothing more than to take comfort from it, from him. But guilt overtook her with a chaser of fear and doubt. One of her men had been hurt by a jaguar. For all she knew, by a Yaguara. And Mike was acting crazy. If her father were here, he'd have never allowed this nightmare to happen. Her hands went to Jareth's chest, and she leaned away from him.

“Like Chris is fine?” she demanded. “Was it a Yaguara that hurt him?”

His brow arched. “Is that an accusation that I hear in your voice?” he demanded. “Because it sure doesn't sound like the trust you promised me.”

“Was that cat Yaguara?” she repeated, needing to know if she was sleeping with someone whose kind could do something like that to a young, innocent man.

The air crackled with an instant charge of tension. “You mean the one that died from the bullet Chris put in her?” he asked, his voice blistering with anger. “No. She was not Yaguara.”

Amber absorbed that news like a punch in the gut. “I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean—”

“Yes,” he said. “You did.”

Voices sounded nearby. Shouts followed. “They're back! Mike and the crew are back!”

Amber and Jareth turned to find Mike and several of her workers walking down the cliff, all of them in handcuffs, two uniformed men acting as their captors. Amber's eyes traveled from one uniform to the next, noting the men were both of dark coloring, both with long hair, both wore an air of danger that said they didn't need a gun to kill. They were Yaguara; she knew it in her gut.

Amber cut her attention back to Jareth. “I thought they were coming in the morning,” she said, certain these were the wildlife officials he'd talked about who were bringing a warrant.

“They were,” Jareth said, releasing his hold on her arms. “Until your people started firing on jaguars.” He turned to start walking toward the men.

Amber instantly grabbed his arm. “Jareth.”

He stopped short and turned back. “Let's deal with what is before us before someone else gets hurt, shall we?” His eyes were steely and cold. “We'll deal with what is between us later.
Alone
.”

She drew back, hugged herself. Alone with Jareth meant sex. Sex with Jareth meant total mental and physical meltdown. She would not think straight. She would want him. She would want more of him. She had to gain some semblance of control. Everything was spinning and tumbling out of control, especially her emotions. She took a step backward. “I'm not so sure that's such a good idea.” Chris was in an ambulance near death. She barely knew Jareth. She needed time to think.

Jareth grabbed her arm, dragged her close. “Do not even think about saying a word of what we have discussed to anyone, Amber. People will get hurt. You will get hurt.”

She was shaking. Inside. Outside. All over. “Is that a threat?”

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice raspy, almost a growl. “If I had wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have done it back at that waterfall? Or perhaps you've forgotten the pleasure, and I need to remind you?” Teal eyes bore into her with a challenge. “Make your choices wisely, Amber. Lives are on the line.” His grip fell away from her. “Go to the hospital and be with Chris. Call his family. Do what humans do in these situations. And I'll do what I do—keep everyone alive. We'll talk later.” His voice firmed and he repeated, “Alone.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Amber staring after him in total shellshock, much like she'd felt when she'd first seen Chris, wounded and bleeding. Jareth was overwhelming. He'd come into her life and taken it over. There was possessiveness about his way with her that was forgiven only because, well, before now, it had made her hot. Now, it simply made her confused. Okay—it pissed her off, too. Who was he to act like he owned her? One hot romp under that waterfall did not give him any say in her life. So damn it, why did she feel like calling him back to her?

She inhaled, watching him stalk away with long, determined steps. A hero for saving Chris. Or was he? She didn't want to believe this was a setup, but she couldn't dismiss how well this situation suited Jareth's desire to keep them all away from this place. She would lose her grant and never manage to get another to return here considering that a cat had been shot.

Jareth might not have pulled the trigger, but did he order the cats to attack? Everything inside her screamed to reject that idea. He'd come to her. He'd told her the truth. But then, maybe he wanted her to have a reason to believe her crew would actually shoot a cat for reasons beyond protection. They had bullets, though, she reminded herself, not tranquilizers. Those men were out there with the intention to kill. Far from camp. They were not protecting the perimeter. They must have been hunting.