Amber Fire (5 page)

Her gaze lifted to Mike at the same moment that he spit at one of the officers. She cringed. This was not the Mike she'd thought she knew. Her father had kept the reason for his falling out with Mike quiet, despite her prodding. Today she had seen a side of Mike that made that falling out more understandable. Was Mike a Hunter? She had a bad feeling the answer was yes. But—then again, Chris was in an ambulance. How could Amber justify completely dismissing any guilt on Jareth's part?

She was confused. Mike was the closest thing to family she had left, yet now he felt like the enemy. But she had to face the fact that the real enemy might be the one she was sleeping with.

 

Hours had passed since Amber left for the hospital, and Jareth stood on the porch outside a county jail where seven of Amber's crew had been taken; they'd been released minutes before, Mike and his wife, Evelyn, included. Their release had been compliments of a high-powered attorney who Mike should not have been able to afford—funded, no doubt, by the Hunters' hierarchy.

“You're certain she isn't a Hunter?” The question came from Chase Bradley, a fellow Sentinel, and Game Warden. At least for now. Until the slow aging process of the Yaguara forced him to move on.

Jareth leaned on the wooden rail and crossed one booted foot over the other. Thanks to Chase, he'd shed his bloody clothes for a pair of Game Warden fatigues and a tan T-shirt. “I'm certain,” Jareth said.

Chase studied Jareth, his legs set in a V, hands on his narrow hips. “Because we have to be certain.”

“What part of ‘I'm certain' did you not understand?” he asked sharply. He did not care that Chase was the son of one of the seven high council members, and was destined to lead one day. He was still a kid, barely a century old compared to Jareth's three hundred years.

“But her father—”

“For the last time,” Jareth said, making no effort to hide his irritation. “She's
not
a Hunter. Until tonight, she believed her father was an archaeologist with a dream of finding Yaguara.”

Chase crossed his arms over his broad chest. “She knows the truth now?”

“I told her what was necessary,” he said. “No names. I don't want her acting nervous around the people who are involved.”

Chase considered a moment, and then ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, which was complemented by his short, dark hair.

“Do you trust her?” Chase finally asked.

Jareth noted the familiar look on Chase's face. The one that said he had a brilliant idea that would not seem brilliant to Jareth. “No,” Jareth said.

“No,” Chase said, his brows dipping. “You don't trust her?”

“No, to whatever you are planning,” Jareth replied. “And yes. I trust her.”

Chase threw his hands out to his sides. “You haven't even heard my idea, and already you say no?”

“I
never
like your ideas.”

Chase snorted. “You never like anyone's ideas.” He quickly got back on point. “Look. For years now, we've known Mike has connections to the brains of the Hunters' operation, but we've turned up nothing. Amber can't remain this close to Mike without this war pulling her under, but if she distances herself, she'll raise suspicions. There is only one answer—Mike has to be dealt with.”

“You and I both know that until we find his connections to Hunter leadership,” Jareth said, “we've been forbidden such actions.”

“Use Amber to find those connections,” Chase said. “She can approach Mike, tell him she knows about Yaguara and about the Hunters, and that she wants to join. The timing is perfect. One of her crew just got mauled by a cat.” He paused and added, “It's a perfect excuse for her entry into the Hunters.”

“No,” Jareth said forcefully, his gut clenching with the thought of Amber being in danger. He had no idea what this woman was doing to him. It was like nothing he'd experienced in all his centuries of living. But it was there, whatever “it” was, and it demanded he protect her. “Not a chance in hell. It's far too dangerous.”

“So is living her life in her current state of exposure,” Chase said.

“I said no,” Jareth ground out, feeling the rise of protectiveness.

Chase arched a brow. “Why not let her decide?”

“No.”

It was Chase's turn for irritation, throwing his hands in the air. “Can you say anything but ‘no'? Your vocabulary is supposed to expand with age, not shrink.”

“You know how I feel about involving humans,” Jareth snapped.

“Humans?” he challenged. “Or this human? If she wasn't human, I'd think you went off and mated the way you're acting.”

Mate. Jareth inhaled sharply at the word that he had barely dared whisper in his mind, yet it had been there, ever present since the moment he'd met her—the daughter of one of their biggest enemies. Human. It was impossible. Yet . . . the word continued to radiate in his mind, pull at his groin with desire.

He inhaled sharply and shoved away the impossibility of such a thing. Focused on what was real, what was relevant. His gaze snapped to Chase's. “I will not allow another innocent human to be dragged through hell because of us.”

“She's already there,” Chase said. “And we didn't put her there. Her father did. By helping us, she gets out of that hell. We'll take down Mike, and everyone connected to him, once and for all. We need her to do this. She can save lives.”

“By risking hers,” he said. “That's our job. Not hers.”

“She was born into her destiny,” Chase said. “No one knows more than myself how hard that can be, but that changes nothing. She can save lives. She has to do this.” He inhaled and let it out. “If you do not ask her, I will.”

Anger rose fiercely in Jareth, and he snapped. One minute he was leaning against that rail, the next he had Chase jacked up against the wall, a snarl coming from his lips. “You will not go near Amber.”

Chase didn't fight back. He laughed. “Man. You got it bad for this chick. Go fuck her out of your system so you can think straight.”

Glowering, his face shoved close to Chase's, Jareth seethed with barely contained anger. Several tense seconds passed and then he let go of Chase. “
I'll
talk to her.” He turned and stomped down the stairs and walked toward the woods. The instant he was undercover, he shifted, no longer man but beast. Allowed the animal inside him to roar to life as he charged through the woods.

This was Amber's destiny, Chase had said. Jareth had watched his own family die simply because Yaguara had stood against its enemies. Burned alive to punish Jareth, and others like himself, for standing up against their enemies. That was not what he called destiny. It was what he called evil.

He would not allow Amber's destruction just because her father was part of that evil. He could not sit back and watch another woman under his protection die for a cause. This vow filled him, as did something he had not felt in centuries—something he did not want to feel, an emotion that made him run faster, harder. That emotion was fear. Fear that no matter how valiant he might be in his protection of Amber—he would fail and she would die.

I
t was after midnight and Amber paced the hallway of the hospital, waiting for Chris to get out of surgery. He had no family to call. No wife. A little detail that broke Amber's heart. It also brought with it some emotional self-reflection about her own life that she hadn't allowed herself to consider since her father's death: If that had been her in that surgery room, she, too, would have had no one.

She was twenty-eight and alone. And then Jareth had shown up, an alluring stranger who'd seduced first her dreams, and then her body. She'd been instantly drawn to him. But then, what woman would not be? The man was gorgeous, made for sex, and he didn't disappoint when it came to delivering pleasure. She didn't want to be a fool, didn't want to be used by Jareth because she was blinded by his immense sexual prowess. She wouldn't be a fool that way. But what if Jareth was more than sex—what if there was substance to what she felt for him? She didn't know what was real and what was perhaps some persona he had created to hide his secret. She only knew he was intriguing, protective, smart enough to fire off one best seller after another—several of which she'd read and enjoyed before meeting him.

Suddenly, the double doors at the end of the hallway opened. Mike and Evelyn appeared along with several more of her workers. Amber's stomach rolled as she walked toward them. She'd replayed the events of the night over and over in her head and had come to one conclusion—Mike was guilty. Of what, she wasn't sure. At a minimum, the man had been hunting those cats—amazing, nearly extinct animals—and one of them had died. Chris might well lose his life, too.

“How is he?” Mike asked, stopping in front of her. He looked older than usual, Amber realized, his blond hair somehow unbefitting the harsh lines framing his mouth and eyes. Something she'd never noticed before tonight. Perhaps she'd simply taken him down from the pedestal of makeshift father. Her father was nothing like Mike.

“In surgery,” she replied, her spine stiff, arms folded in front of her. “I don't know anything more than that. I wish I did.” The other workers, a good ten of them, invaded the waiting area nearby. Mike and Evelyn stayed with Amber.

Evelyn shoved her flat, weather-beaten brunette hair behind her ears and cast Amber a sheepish look. “How are
you
?”

Amber dismissed Evelyn's question; it was the kind of fluff she'd been fed by these people all her life, and it stirred anger within her. Evelyn wasn't what she seemed any more than Mike. She'd been out there in those woods when all of this had happened, and she'd been carrying a loaded gun. Amber focused on Mike. “What happened out there?”

A flash of anger zigzagged across Mike's sun-baked features, before being swept behind a mask of indifference. “We defended ourselves.”

“Why were you that far from camp?”

“Amber,” he said shortly. “It's been—”

The nurse shoved open the double steel doors directly behind Mike. “Ms. Green,” she said. Amber rushed forward, as did everyone else. “Chris is stable, though in ICU. The next twenty-four hours will be imperative.”

Amber's fist balled over her heart, to calm herself, to keep it from jumping out of her chest. “That means he could die, right?”

“He's stable,” the nurse repeated. “But nothing is certain. He lost a lot of blood.” She went on to detail his condition and then added, “Stay positive,” before turning away.

Amber watched the nurse depart, stunned by the less than positive news. She felt exhausted both emotionally and physically.

“We should take turns sitting with him,” Evelyn said. Amber barely processed her words, as though she were speaking from some distant place. “We can take the first shift, if you like.”

Blinking, Amber shook herself back into the moment. Forced herself to reach for Evelyn's words and process them. “I'm going to get some coffee.”

“Go get some rest instead,” Evelyn said. “We'll stay here.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Amber said. Chris had no one to be with him. She was going to be his someone. And when he woke up, she was going to make sure he distanced himself from a life that was leading him into trouble.

She didn't wait for a reply before turning away. A nurse directed her down a long hallway to a drink machine. Amber stood there and stared at it. She had no money. No purse. That meant no coffee. And no idea what she was going to do about everything that was charging at her and demanding decisive answers she didn't have.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Amber's head jerked up at the familiar male voice, deep and soothing, like hot cider on a cold day. Jareth stood there, one arm resting on the wall above his head, towering over her. Big. Boldly male. He was exactly what she wanted right now, even if he was not what she needed. But she was too tired to analyze him or even herself. She shoved aside her doubts, her accusations. “Yes,” she said. “Please. I'm exhausted.”

Dropping his arm, he stepped beside her. Reached for her and wrapped her in powerful, wonderful arms. She dropped her head to his chest, listened to the melody of his heart beating beneath her ear, a lullaby of reassurance. His hand slid down the back of her hair, and she relaxed farther into him.

“How is he?” he finally asked.

She lifted her head, but held onto him, a steely force in the midst of a raging firestorm. “In ICU,” she reported. “Prognosis, uncertain.”

“I didn't do this to him, Amber,” he said. “I would never order an attack on humans. We had a plan together. It would have worked. But your people went hunting, and from there it spiraled out of my control.” His lips thinned. “Chris killed a female cat. It was her mate that attacked him.”

Amber digested that with a lump in her throat, shocked by the impact of his words. The cat had attacked, pained by the loss of its mate. She'd never had a man in her life she loved. Never experienced that bond. But it was a bond that crossed species. One she understood. “I'm sorry,” she said, reaching up and touching the evening shadow on his jaw, the rough edges beneath her palm shooting sparks up her arm, the sensation oddly comforting. “I didn't mean to accuse you. I . . . I don't know what to say. I don't know how to fix any of this.” She hesitated, unsure if she wanted the answer to her next question, but she asked anyway. “Mike is a Hunter, isn't he?”

Jareth took long seconds to answer. “Yes.”

She dropped her forehead to his chest. “I can't believe this.” Her father must have found out. It explained so much about the last year of his life.

Jareth reached down and framed her face, gently prodding her to look at him. There was a gentleness to him that defied the wild animal she knew was a part of him. “You cannot allow him to believe you see him differently. He is dangerous, Amber.”

“How can I pretend I don't know?” she demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“You have to,” he insisted.

“I can't walk away from this and pretend it doesn't exist,” she assured him. “That isn't how I'm made, Jareth. I can't do nothing.”

“But you cannot do anything now, certainly not here at the hospital, with Chris in ICU. Get through this. Then, we will talk about what comes next.” He brushed a finger under her eyes, his voice softening. “You're exhausted. There's a hotel next door—”

“No,” she said, flattening her hand on his chest. “I can't leave him. I know what he did, but, Jareth, he's a kid. And . . . he's alone. He has no one in this world. There was no family to call. No one. Chris has not a soul who cares that he is in that bed right now.”

Jareth ran his hand up her back, molded her chest to his. Brought his lips to hers and brushed them in what turned into a slow passionate kiss that filled her with warmth, with the promise of something more. Something that defied a mere month of casual acquaintance, defied the division of their two races. A kiss that claimed, a kiss that possessed. A kiss that said she wasn't alone. At least not tonight.

When finally they walked back to the waiting room, coffee in hand, Amber had resolutely blocked out everything but the comfort radiating off Jareth. Comfort that didn't last long.

They rounded the corner and came face to face with Mike and Evelyn. Amber felt as if her insides froze. She was awkward in a way she'd never felt with Mike.

Evelyn cleared her throat. “We're going to catch a few hours of sleep.” Her gaze shifted between the two men. “The nurse said they won't allow him any visitors until morning.”

Thank God, they are leaving
, Amber thought. “Fine. Good. I'll be here.”

“So will I,” Jareth said, a warning lacing his promise, his eyes clashing with Mike's.

A stiff good-bye followed from Evelyn, who managed to rush her husband away.

Jareth grabbed Amber and pulled her hard against him. “You cannot act as if you suspect him. It is far too dangerous.”

“I can't pretend I have no contempt for that man,” she said. “If for no other reason—and there are plenty of others it seems—but he shot a jaguar with a real bullet when we only allow tranquilizer guns on the dig site.” She sharpened her attention on Jareth. “He knows what you are.”

“He suspects,” he agreed. “He does not know.”

“Your very presence dares him to come after you and you know it,” she challenged.

“Let him try. I don't die easily, Amber.”

Her hands settled on his arms. “But you're not invincible.” She didn't want Jareth to be ripped away from her like her father had been. Walking away, saying goodbye—that was one thing. But not ripped away. “You should not be here. I don't want you to get hurt.”

He stared down at her, his eyes darkening. “Nor I, you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. The mood shifted, turned warm, sensual. Her body ached with instant awareness. He was hard; she felt the proof pressed to her stomach. “There is much to discuss, but you need rest. Let's go get a room. You heard Evelyn. You won't be able to visit Chris until morning.”

“No,” she said in instant rejection. She wanted nothing more than to escape into this man's arms, but she could not. The idea of leaving Chris alone wasn't even remotely okay with her. What if something happened? “I'm not leaving. And stop changing the subject. You're a walking target here. You're the one who should leave.”

“I'm not going anywhere without you,” he said, lacing his fingers in hers. “Since you won't rest, have you at least eaten?”

“I haven't,” she said. The dull rumbling in her stomach was harder to ignore than lack of sleep. “I have no idea where to get food at this time of night.”

“The hotel next door has a twenty-four-hour diner. Why don't we walk over there and eat. We'll be back in half an hour.” He must have seen the instant rejection on her face, because he offered, “Or I can go pick up food and bring it back.”

She offered an appreciative smile. “I'd like that.”

Fifteen minutes later, they sat in the waiting room, munching on takeout—Jareth having ordered enough to feed three people. He was on his third chicken sandwich with two burgers still in the bag. She was just glad it wasn't raw meat. Still, she'd barely finished her one lonely cheeseburger. “Good Lord, where do you put all of that food?” He was a big guy, but there wasn't an ounce of fat on him.

He took a long sip of his drink. “We have very fast metabolisms.”

We, meaning Yaguara. Amber considered that a moment. “I'd love it if you'd tell me about your people.”

He finished off a bite of his sandwich, rubbed his hands together, offering her a thoughtful inspection. Then, apparently deciding he had no reason to keep her in the dark, he told her of a family long gone, lost to the war. His father killed by Hunters. His mother and sister killed as well, though he did not seem to want to share details. Through the years, many of which were laden with enough grief and lost lives to incite acts of vengeance, the Yaguara had, instead, kept a low profile and fought for a peaceful existence. They were a race of families, of real people trying to lead peaceful lives, their numbers in the thousands compared to humanity's billions. They faced the very real threat of extinction under the Hunters' attacks.

Hearing how rooted Mike was in all of this hit Amber hard. She shoved aside her food. “I think he used me to get the information in my father's journals,” she said, her stomach rolling. “My father must have found out what he was doing. I think that's why he cut him off. That's why he died Mike's enemy.”

“You have no idea what happened between them?”

She shook her head. “No, but it has to be related to this. It has to be.”

“Mike will do anything to destroy Yaguara,” he said. “It's a mentality passed down through generations of Hunters, which he has embraced fully. The stories these people tell of Yaguara liken each of us to the human equivalent of Jack the Ripper. We exist, so we are monsters.”

Amber inhaled a sharp breath. “It's like the witch trials. He has to be stopped.”

“He will be,” Jareth assured her. “You leave Mike to me.”

But Amber wasn't sure she could do that. She'd brought Mike here, led him to Jareth, allowed him to endanger Chris. She had to do something. She had to see Mike brought to justice.

 

A few minutes after nine the next morning, Jareth stood in the hospital room beside Amber, who held a still unconscious Chris's hand. Amber had not slept, the dark circles beneath her eyes smudging her pale, perfect skin. It was clear to Jareth, despite her claims of being fine, that she was damn near ready to collapse over this hard-rooted need to be here for Chris. A need he suspected had as much to do with the boy as it did with her own personal feelings. She'd expressed a sense of guilt about Chris, as if she had caused this by involving Mike and being blind to his true agendas. And no matter how much Jareth tried, he could not convince her otherwise. But there was more than guilt to Amber's need to be here. There was a fear of being alone herself. She hadn't said that part, but he saw it in her eyes, read it beneath the code words she spoke. She thought she was like Chris—alone and without anyone to care about her.