Defeat the Darkness (Hearts of Darkness) (7 page)

“Doctor, chew this. It will ease the pains.” Julian held out a handful of small purple flowers.

“What are they?”

“They will help you go through your first shift. Your body is beginning the change. The first time is said to be very painful. My people use these flowers to help.”

Kyle’s stomach gripped with another spasm, and he swore his joints were trying to disengage. He’d never experienced such pain
, and if the flowers were poisonous, he’d rather die than remain hurting this way.

“Thanks, Julian. Let’s hope it helps.”

“It will. You may need more because you are going through your change very rapidly. I will be right back with more.” With that, the boy disappeared back into the dark night, leaving Kyle writhing on the cave floor chewing his flowers and hoping they’d ease the pain or kill him.

Within moments, the pain dulled as the pressure in his limbs increased. His hands looked like they were curling up with arthritis and the hair on them looked thicker, longer, and darker. The light in the cave seemed brighter. It hurt his eyes, but he could see into the dark beyond the cave’s entrance.

What next? The plant probably contained a hallucinogen. That would explain his bodily changes.

Julian slipped back into the cave without a sound and offered a handful of the strange flowers to Kyle. “Eat them. The next step is the most painful.”

“More painful?” Kyle shook him off. “It’s affecting my thinking. I’m hallucinating.”

“No, doctor. This is no hallucination. You are shifting. Your eyes have already changed and your hands are turning. Look at your nails.”

They were claws.

“Chew these. Now.”

The boy was right. There was something wrong with his hands. Kyle decided to cooperate. What did he have to lose? He swallowed the remainder of the plants before his body contorted into a ball, and then he convulsed, arching back. His bones cracked, and his muscles stretched to their limits.

He screamed out in agony. Really? How much worse would this have hurt without the flowers?

Suddenly the pain stopped.

When it did, he was on his hands and knees. No. He was standing on padded black paws. Black jaguar paws.

Julian looked satisfied—pleased with himself. “Ah, there, the worst is over. Look at you. You are a magnificent specimen. No wonder the dark one wants you. You are almost solid black.”

Kyle understood what Julian said, but when he tried to speak nothing escaped except a growl.
Now what?
The night sounds were more distinct. The jungle scents filled his head. Beyond the entry, every plant and every tree took on perfect detail.

“Try to think like a man and you can shift back.”

The reverse transition wasn’t as difficult as the first shift, but Kyle was shocked when he ended up naked and on his knees. “I can’t believe any of this.”

“Look at yourself. Your wounds are all healed. The change often heals the shifter.”

“This is...remarkable.” Kyle had no other words to describe what he felt as he pulled on the shirt and pants he’d shed before shifting. “Are you prepared to go through this when this happens to you?”

“Yes. My father and the elders have taken me with them to prepare me. But I am not the one in danger. Not yet. You are. When the dark one comes for you, you must fight her. She will try to force you to take her demon blood. If you do, you will become like her, and you will be hers to command.”

“Why me? Why does she need me when she has all the other rogues?”

“They are all born shifters—not human. She has not been able to turn them—make them into the vampire.”

“Why does she want to do that?” Kyle shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“No one knows.”

There had to be a hallucinogen in that plant. All this was too farfetched. There was no way he’d shifted into the form of a jaguar and then shifted back into a man. Then how did he explain what he’d seen or that all his wounds healed?

The jungle plants could be more potent than Julian knew.

Chapter 7 Captured

It wasn’t long after Julian went outside to collect water again that Kyle heard the low rumble of the jaguars’ growls coming from the bushes outside.

“Run!” he shouted as he ran outside, hoping Julian heard his warning in time. He tried to shift into his new cat body for protection, but coul
dn’t manage to visualize his the jaguar fast enough.

Three jaguar rogues surrounded him, snarling and swiping at him—drawing blood.

Too late.

The directress, Amyra de la Santiago, emerged alongside another exceptionally large cat, her hand gripping Julian’s skinny arm like a vice. The cats quieted without any noticeable command on her part.

“The boy’s brother and mother are safe. For now. Consider this. I can take them anytime I want. They will suffer if you two do not cooperate.” In spite of her nasty threat, her voice, like a velvet seduction, mesmerized him into compliance.

Julian stopped struggling, and she pushed him into the circle of cats toward Kyle.

“You will allow me to feed from you, or I will drain the boy.”

“She will be able to enter your thoughts if she takes your blood, doctor.” Julian whispered, but she heard him anyway.

“He’s right. Listen to the smart lad. I will be able to better share my experience with you.”

Somehow,
he doubted her ulterior motive, but what could he do considering her threat? He was a doctor not a hunter, yet something about him had changed. Anger welled up inside him, and aggression he’d never experienced before.

Trapped. Cornered.
A low growl rose in his throat. He wanted to tear through everyone and everything in sight. His eyesight was changing again, and he knew he had to bring himself back from the brink. He was ready to shift and he wasn’t sure he could control the beast within.

Floating toward him above the jungle floor, Amyra’s movements mimicked the cat’s. Everything about her, from her coal black hair, to her pale shimmering skin, enticed.

His aggression switched to lust, and he heard the growl rise again as she approached. What little blood remained in his miraculously healed body rushed to his groin in response to her seductive gaze. His heart would stop if his pressure dropped any lower.

“You will be fine, doctor,” she said. Her light laugh sounded like a husky chuckle.

He hardened in a flash. Part of him ached for her and another part of him recoiled from her gaze. Everything about her repulsed him and seduced him at the same time. He wanted to take her from behind and the urge made him want to vomit. She smelled of cardamom and cinnamon, but beneath that scent, he smelled rancid blood and the dry smell of ancient death.

Her essence, like an evil thrall, surrounded the entire group.

One glance into her eyes, and Kyle knew, not only could she kill the boy and his family, she would if he didn’t do her bidding. Unfortunately, he suspected the ultimate price would be his soul.

He glanced at Julian and thought about his sweet baby brother. They were worth his soul.

“Release the boy and you may feed from me.”

Amyra flicked her hand in Julian’s direction. “Go. I can find you when I need you.”

Julian hesitated then grabbed Kyle’s arms. “Doctor, do not accept her blood no matter what she threatens or promises.”

Amyra backhanded the boy, and when Kyle reached to stop her, she held him back with one hand. “Go. You will not receive another reprieve.”

With that, Julian glanced at Kyle for affirmation.

He nodded and said, “Go. Be safe.” He wanted to say, “Find your father and get your family away from here.” However, the boy’s people had lived here since the dawn of time. It was Amyra who needed to be stopped, and he had to find out how.

Chapter 8 Torture

Once the boy left, she ran her hand over Kyle’s naked chest, tracing his faded scratches, then fiddled with a nipple. She bent in and licked each wound, healing them instantly. She lifted her beautiful face, lowered her lashes, and circled her lips with her tongue, tasting him. Her lips parted. She pressed them to his and kissed him. He refused to respond to the sharp stab when she bit him or when she sucked the pain away with her lips. He refused to respond when her tongue entered his mouth and thrust inside, dueling with his.

Although she smelled sweet, enticing, and tasted like something he’d longed for all his life, he knew her flavor wasn’t real. Everything about her was an illusion she created to seduce him.

He cringed when she pressed her breasts to his chest and her nipples pebbled and hardened, her arousal evident. She brushed them against his skin and ran her nails down his hips. He cursed beneath his breath.

Against his will, his erection rose
, lifting proudly, and his will diminished.

He refused to respond when her hands clasped his hips and ground her mound against him. He pulled away and cupped himself to assuage the growing pressure. She stepped back and her sooty lashes lowered, watching
him struggle. Her lips lifted in a curl, smiling as his body reacted to her despite the battle he fought with himself.

Without a word from her, the jaguar guards left them alone. Amyra stepped back allowing the dress she wore to slip from her shoulders to the cave floor.

Kyle couldn’t look away. Her body was sexy and voluptuous when covered in black silk, but naked, she was every man’s wet dream. The idea made him harder in spite of his defiance.

Standing before him with her skin glowing in the dark, there was no denying her beauty—her high, full breasts had large areolas and distinct nipples. Her waist was so narrow he could span it with his hands, and her hips were so round and lush a man could sink between her thighs and ride her forever.

He imagined what it would be like to kiss those nipples drawing them deep into his mouth, and sucking until they were long and sensitive, until she trembled beneath him.

Her hands moved to touch herself between her legs, and his gaze dropped to the tight dark curls covering her mound. She spread her legs a little wider so he could see how aroused she was. She was swollen and engorged, the pink nub evident, wet and shiny, peaking through her folds. She was perfection in the form of a woman, and she wanted something from him.

As if he’d been forced to look up, he lifted his eyes and met hers, unable to tear his gaze away. Could she read his thoughts? Did he dare anger her?

His body obviously wanted hers, but she wasn’t Shelby. She wasn’t the woman he truly wanted, and yet he couldn’t stop his physical reaction. What he could do was make sure this woman knew how much he cared for Shelby. He would do nothing of his own free will.

Amyra stepped forward until they were skin to skin. Her touch further weakened his resolve, forcing him in some way to succumb to her mighty power. He palmed one rounded breast, weighing it in his hand. He thumbed her nipple and watched her reaction. The sound of pleasure when she gasped seemed real enough, and his body responded to the scent of her desire. Her lust smelled stronger and more enticing than he’d ever experienced before.

His jaguar senses must have enhanced his human ones. What other jaguar powers did he have? The one bombarding him was his jaguar’s lust.

She drew him in, touched his erection, and beguiled him. Then, as she laughed, she wrapped herself around him like a boa constrictor and took the vein at his throat.

Kyle entered the empty labyrinth of her mind, experiencing the horror he’d been fighting since his attack. He saw what was in store for him—what she would do to Julian and his family if he didn’t cooperate—what she would do to Shelby if he ever tried to escape.

She was determined he would survive, and then he would be hers—body and soul.

Suddenly, that concept was more frightening than death. He would rather die than exist that way. Then he thought of his family and Shelby. With greater conviction to find an escape, he decided he couldn’t give up without even trying to fight her.

Pain shot through him as if his heart had been twisted within his chest. She was reading his thoughts as she fed from him. He would have to be more cautious in the future. An anxious sense of doom replaced the blood he was losing, filling him with dread before he blacked out.

Chapter 9 Missing

New Orleans, four days after Kyle disappeared

Desperation made Shelby risk the call. Wasn’t it bad enough Max had taken on the role of babysitter since Kyle left? Between his work and caring for her, his own social life had come to a grinding halt.

Was it fair dragging Max into all this? Or was it right? He and Kyle had been close these last few years—Max would want to be involved and she needed someone she trusted implicitly. Other than Kyle, Max was that person.

Besides, Mr. Hamilton, his father had all the right contacts.

With her cell phone glued to her ear, she paced the bedroom picking up discarded clothes, and waited for him to answer.

Thankfully, Max picked up on the fourth ring. Any more waiting and she’d have chewed off one of her fingers.

“Hey, Shelby girl, did you change your mind about that Yankee and decide to settle down with your good ole boy.” His charm poured through her, relaxing the tension a bit. She trusted him. He’d help. He’d make this better.

“Max, something’s wrong in Guatemala. Dr. Salazar just called and told me Kyle is missing.”

“What? What happened?”

“Apparently Kyle joined a search party looking for a teen he befriended who went off into the jungle. Salazar said something about jaguars attacking the local villagers in the area. Neither Kyle nor the boy have been seen—”

“Calm down, baby. How long?”

“Four-five days, now.” She ended the statement with a sob.

“Do you want me to call down there and see what I can find out?”

“Yes, sure. What can you do about getting me into the country ASAP?”

“I can’t get away until Tuesday, and I don’t want you going there alone.”

“I can’t wait. I’m getting the run around from all the agencies, state and federal, and stonewalled by the local Guatemalan authorities. I need answers. I want to be there, now. Now, dammit.”

“Hold your horses, darlin’. Let me call my dad and do a little diggin’ around. I’ll get right back to you.”

He always had been able to settle her, calming her down when she went off on a tangent.

“Shelby? You hear me? Take it easy, hon. You remember
, your Yank’s a big boy. He took all those survival courses. He’s tough. I’m sure he can hold his own under the worst of circumstances.”

“Thanks, oh God, thank you, Max.”

“I haven’t done anything yet, sweetheart. You stay put, and I’ll call you right back. We’ll find that boy of yours. Luv ya, doll face.”

“I love you, too.” She started to tap “off” but thought of something. “Max, wait.”

She still loved Max—loved spending time with him, and had even loved making love to him at one time. Who wouldn’t want him as a best friend with benefits? The man was sensitive, hot as hell, and charming. On top of everything else, she had to admit he was her best friend.

“Yeah?”

“You know how much I do...you know...love you? Don’t you?” The darn tears burned her eyes. She meant it. She’d loved Max for as long as she could remember—not the same way she loved Kyle but just as deeply. He was her rock.

There was a long pause before she heard Max clear his throat and say, “I know.” His words were spoken softly and followed with a sigh.

“You have that special way of making cockiness an art form and taking conceit to a whole new level, but sometimes I miss it like a toothache.”

More like a comfortable old sweatshirt, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of gloating. The idea was almost enough to make her laugh because he wouldn’t appreciate either analogy. Believing he was the epitome of a southern gentleman, all dressed to perfection, and neat, he’d rage against the old sweatshirt analogy.

“Be nice. You are seeking my assistance, if I remember correctly,” he responded, polite to a fault.

“Call me. I’m waiting.” She wasn’t in the mood to be polite. The last few months being with Max, apart from Kyle, had taken a toll on her. If Kyle planned dropping out of the scene and throwing her and Max back together as a test, he was a fool to risk it. She’d never been immune to Max—not his good looks, his charm, nor their chemistry. Every woman who met him recognized he was one of the good guys, and he was, by far, one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.

Fortunately for her, knowing him since pre-school put his good looks in perspective. She remembered him when he was scrawny without his front teeth, and then with braces. Of course, their past was also something that warmed her heart.

There was no denying their attraction, just their bad timing.

Everything about Max mirrored the epitome of the South—well, everything except his overly long blond hair that he tied back in a neat ponytail. Nevertheless, she knew it was a big “ef you” to the country club conservatives.

It was one of two rules Max excluded from his traditional image. The other was his sexual appetite.

She mostly relied on hearsay after their short teenage foray into sexual-research-gone-awry. He didn’t think sexual monogamy was the same as emotional monogamy. Maybe he was right, but convincing her broken teenage heart took a while.

They decided—she decided—they liked each other too much to risk ruining what they had with sex. Max would have let sex rule over his good sense back then even when it came to risking what they had—mostly because he was a teenage hor
n dog. Maybe because it was her he took the highroad and agreed.

Max made it clear there wasn’t much he wouldn’t explore or enjoy in the name of sexual experimentation. While she was all about finding her soul mate.

Besides, she discovered he was light years ahead of her when it came to sex after the one time they’d tried again once they were older. He probably still was.

“La la la” She didn’t want to think about it.

She paced the apartment she’d shared with Kyle and waited for Dr. Salazar or Max to call back with some news.

What was taking so long? His father was retired from the state department. Surely, he had friends with connections. He’d know how to break through the red tape if anyone did. Her parents and his had been good friends as long as she could remember.

Everyone, including Shelby herself, expected the two of them to end up together someday. And would that have been so bad?

Yes.

She had Kyle now, and her feelings for him to consider. If she had committed to Max the way everyone expected, there never would have been a Kyle in her life.

Why Kyle, she often wondered, and not Max. One she’d loved all her life, versus the soul mate who swooped into her life, captured her heart, and scared the living hell out of her.

He’d brought her old world to a grinding halt—lighting it in colors she’d never seen. He challenged her in ways she’d never dreamed possible, loved her so thoroughly and completely there was no doubt she was his world and he was hers. He emotionally satisfied her on every level, including a new level of sexual desire, almost a desperate need that she felt with only him.

If Max wasn’t the one, after all they’d been through, then how could she feel so connected to Kyle in such a short time? Would it
last? Or, would it turn into something else, too? Kyle’s disappearance had her questioning her feelings about everything.

Kyle rocked her world—Max stabilized it—brought balance to her being. They got along almost too well, agreed on everything—even about Kyle. He’d taken her attraction to Kyle in stride the way he did everything else. Nothing ever rattled him. Instead, he continued dating every hot woman he ran across in New Orleans and yet was always still there when she needed him.

She knew nothing would ever interfere with their friendship. Anyone who expected to be part of their lives would have to accept their connection. Kyle was her future, but Max was her past and a part of her. She could never live without him. He would always be her other half—her best friend.

She looked at her watch and calculated the time difference between Atlanta and New Orleans. They had a few hours left before close of business, and she could still catch the later flight out tonight if they pulled the right strings.

She went to the refrigerator and took out a chilled bottle of Merlot, poured herself a glass then emptied it down the drain and settled for a Coke. She had to keep her wits about her.

Max would help her find Kyle because, one—it was the courteous thing to do, and two—he was his friend too. He cared about what happened to Kyle.

No matter how many generations passed, southern towns liked to keep the status quo, and though they all loved Kyle, she recalled how her own mother had given her that raised brow and asked, “Now, Shelby, darlin’ why couldn’t you fall for Max? After all, Kyle is a Yankee. What do you know about his people?”

At the time, Shelby had laughed. “His ‘people’ are old money, social blue bloods from Boston. You’ll have to do quite a bit of pruning on our family tree to match up to his ancestry.”

Mr. Hamilton would help. No one disapproved of Kyle. In fact, everyone loved him. Right now, it didn’t matter if she and Max weren’t together. All that counted was, thank the lord, Max had the contacts and resources through his father’s agency to get her into Guatemala fast.