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Like the deadly hunter that he was, he’d slipped silently through the jungle, stalking the enemy, and he’d made quick work of three of them. Adrenaline from the kills still rushed through his veins and he trembled slightly at the intensity of it all.
He’d been much too long from the fight.
Jagger had spent the remainder of the evening dragging his ass over three square miles in an effort to engulf the entire area in his scent and throw the warriors off of his trail. Wearily, he ran a hand through the thick hair at his nape and stretched taut shoulders. He was exhausted and would love nothing more than to get some rest himself, but he knew that was impossible. The warriors were already on the move.
He needed to get Skye the hell out of the jungle.
From what he’d witnessed, the jaguar shifters would not rest until they had the elusive blonde in their custody.
Jagger rolled his head around, loosening the tense cords of muscle at his neck. She’d not given anything up the night before. He still had no clue why the DaCostas were after her, but truthfully, he didn’t care. It was enough that they were involved. He’d not felt this alive in a long time.
His eyes swept the immediate area one last time before he turned his body south. It was time to go.
The first shafts of sunlight were just beginning to feather their way across the horizon when he arrived at the foot of the rock face that led to his hideout. He paused and let the cool, damp mist crawl over his heated flesh.
Something tingled at the edge of his mind and Jagger stilled as a foreign scent rifled its way down his lungs. His nostrils flared and he felt his heart speed up as he recognized the scent for what it was.
Magick. Otherworld magick, and the darkness that accompanied it left no doubt whatsoever that it wasn’t the friendly type. It was the kind that tightened his belly and raised his blood pressure.
Fear began to beat at him, not for himself but for the lone woman he’d left behind, and Jagger cursed as he quickly swept up the steep mountain and disappeared into the hidden crevice.
His nocturnal eyes quickly adjusted to the thick darkness and he immediately crept forward, his stealth and agility enabling him to glide through the gloom without making a sound. Every single muscle in his body was tense, and Jagger’s agitation grew as the stink of otherworld magick became stronger.
It loosened up memories, long buried, and as he moved forward down the narrow passage a collage of images stumbled through his brain. Explosions. Blood. Black night. And death. Jagger stopped, his hands braced against the cold, damp wall of the cave.
He took a few seconds and slowly calmed his fast-beating heart, but the pain that the memories left in their wake was wicked. It knifed through him and even though he shook his head savagely, he couldn’t forget the haunting images of another female, a member of his team in Iraq. Eden.
She’d foolishly trusted him with her life, yet had come back from war zipped tight inside a body bag.
Anger then replaced the pain and it flushed hard through his body as Jagger savagely pushed his bulk away from the cool rock wall. He would not lose another in his care.
He would die before that happened.
He let the anger feed his soul, snarling into the darkness.
Jagger turned quickly and slid through the blackness, his feet gliding over the floor in silence as he melted into the shadows. He retraced his steps from the night before, coldly putting aside the intensity of his emotions as he concentrated on the scents that lingered still.
He wasn’t anywhere near the large cavern where they’d made camp but Skye’s intoxicating odor drifted over him, teasing him with its subtle flavor.
It wasn’t alone.
The smell of otherworld continued to grow stronger, and Jagger quickened his pace, his thoughts deadly, his intentions even more so.
Within minutes he reached the opening of the smaller chamber and sped past, disappearing through yet another passage before silently slipping into the huge cavern where he’d left Skye.
It appeared to be empty. Jagger paused, his senses on full alert. After a few seconds he was positive that there was nothing more dangerous than silence.
He quickly crossed to where he’d left his bag and withdrew a flashlight. Seconds later he turned around, bathing the cave in an eerie glow of artificial light.
His eyes quickly scanned the interior as he carefully made his way deeper into the chamber. The stone ledge where Skye had fallen asleep held no trace of the woman at all. He could sense nothing except the lingering scent of his enemies.
There was something strangely familiar about the trace signatures of the magick that hung in the air like a dar
k cloud. It gave him pause, but Jagger filed it away just as quickly. It was another piece of the puzzle that he would deal with later.
He had no time for the details. He needed to get to Skye.
Jagger knelt down, his fingers slowly caressing the earthen floor, and was barely able to make out the imprint of what was, undoubtedly, a large male footprint. It shadowed the smaller outline of Skye’s. The evidence was unmistakable, and savagely he scattered the soft covering of dust until there was nothing left.
