Page 33 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
And he wanted to. Damn it all to hell, he really did.
But Jacqueline Dolan was a job, and nothing more. A means to an end. A few more weeks and he’d never have to see her again. He could go back to his life.
His predictable, chafing, restricted life.
Hawk shook off that disturbing thought and stopped in front of an ancient fig tree, the gnarled buttress roots at its base snaking away over the forest floor in mossed confusion. A stream burbled somewhere nearby, which was good; they’d need water.
“We’ll sleep here for the night.” He set about clearing a space in the fallen leaves and bracken for a makeshift bed. Watching him with wary eyes, Jacqueline lowered herself to the nearby trunk of a fallen tree.
Twilight was spreading green gloom over the floor of the forest. It would be dark soon.
Then he could hunt.
From behind him, she said quietly, “Is it safe?”
He turned to look at her. She was staring intently at the space he was clearing beside the tree.
“On the ground, I mean. Couldn’t we . . .” Her eyes lifted, and she gazed into the high branches of the tree.
“You’d feel safer in the tree than on the ground?”
In a guarded voice, she replied, “In my experience, the ground is always where the predators are.”
This surprised Hawk for several reasons. First, she was correct. The larger predators—including him—hunted the forest floor. Second, how would she know that? Finally, there was a double meaning behind her words, he was sure of it. The way she gazed longingly into the tree was telling, but of what he didn’t know.
Another puzzle piece. Another misshapen clue that didn’t fit.
“All right. I’ll find a spot, and come and get you. But once we’re up, we’re up for the night, understand? Whatever business you have to take care of, take care of it now.”
Her lips twisted. She nodded, understanding his meaning.
“And, uh, bury it.”
Jack stood, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else on Earth at this moment. “Roger that, Rambo,” she said dryly, and ducked under the low, spreading branches of a giant philodendron.
Hawk watched for a moment, stretching his senses. He smelled loamy earth and wet vegetation, felt the scant vibration of a duo of capybaras nosing through bracken several dozen yards away, heard a thousand different bird and insect noises, but sensed nothing dangerous. There were no predators nearby that might leap on her mid-squat.
Satisfied, he leapt with ease onto one of the taller buttress roots that supported the tree and began to climb the trunk.
Ten minutes later, he descended to find Jack anxiously awaiting him, her neck craned up as she watched him climb down, her arms wrapped around her body as if for protection.
“I should have brought my gun,” she muttered, glancing around the quickly darkening forest. The night creatures were beginning to stir, and the air was alive with strange, new noises. Bearded pigs, leopard cats, flying fox bats, and the deadly caiman were all emerging from their daytime slumber with a hunger that would only be satisfied by fresh meat.
“You don’t need a gun.” Hawk jumped down and landed silently beside her. “You have me.”
She made a face, the meaning of which he didn’t care to decipher.
“You’re going to have to hold on tight as we climb, understand? You don’t want to fall—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, you don’t need to give me a safety lecture,” Jack interrupted, moving so close to him he felt the heat of her skin. She looked up into his eyes and declared, “Let’s do this.”
Hawk suppressed a smile. Bossy, brave, fragile, stubborn . . . if she wasn’t such a prejudiced pain in the butt he might have actually liked her.
He leapt back onto the
tall buttress root and held out a hand. She scrambled up beside him with surprising agility, grabbing his hand for balance, but immediately released it when she steadied. Their eyes met, and she quickly glanced away.
“All right,” Hawk said, all business, “arms around my neck. Try not move too much. And keep your ankles crossed, or your feet might get in the way of my—”
