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A shot rang out somewhere in the jungle. Tony clutched her breast. “It’s Anthony—he’s out there with Bernard Lamb!” She dug her heels into the belly of the black stallion and it surged forward with a tremendous burst of nervous energy.
“Wait!” Savage thundered, but Tony was deaf to everything except the shot she had heard.
Silently, Bernard Lamb turned his horse to lead it from the jungle. The power pulsed through him, urging him on to the next step of his revenge. The anticipation was akin to desire, yet it was far more intense than mere sexual desire. He recognized the emotion as blood lust. He needed only one more element to reach a state of ecstasy. With the blood he needed fire!
He urged his mount to a trot, guiding it to the southern slopes of Leopard’s Leap where the priceless tea bushes stretched upward, acre after fragrant acre.
Antonia, driven by instinct alone, galloped in the general direction of the gunshot. Perhaps she had only imagined it. She fervently hoped so, but an inner voice told her Bernard’s bullet had at last found its mark. She had lived for both of them for so long, she imagined she felt his wound in her chest. They were still connected by a tenuous thread. If it broke, he would die. Hope burned bright within her, she did not dare to let it dim.
Antonia saw a riderless horse come out of the jungle and instinctively knew it was her brother’s mount. Though the sun was sinking fast and the green shadows of the jungle were turning dark, she did not hesitate.
When Tony galloped away from him, Adam Savage knew he could not take the time to get a horse. He loped along through the trees, silently, steadily, at a pace that would conserve his energy. All his senses were alert for danger. His eyes missed nothing, his ears were cocked for every sound, his nose scented peril.
He could not catch her before she plunged into the jungle, bur her white-and-red dress fluttered before him like a banner, marking the path she rode.
The thickness of the foliage slowed Tony’s horse to a walk and she noticed for the first time how menacing the dark shadows were inside the jungle. All about her things were rustling furtively. A scream gathered in her throat. Panic rose up in her, telling her to turn and flee. Then suddenly she saw the white and red.
She slipped from the horse, not daring even to whisper his name in case he was beyond hearing. She fell to her knees beside him, gasping with fear. The black stallion, scenting what Antonia did not, roiled back its eyes, flattened its ears, and bolted the way it had come.
Though her eyes were blurred with tears, she saw the crimson blossom upon his breast. With trembling fingers she reached out to touch his cheek. She could not tell if he was breathing. “I’m here. Everything will be all right now.” She murmured the promise to comfort both of them, but she was in total panic, wondering how she would get help.
Savage didn’t slow his pace as he reached the thick canopy of the jungle. A wave of relief swept through him as he saw her horse coming toward him, then a foul curse dropped from his lips as he saw its saddle was empty. He caught the frightened animal by its trailing bridle and quieted it down with a firm, soothing hand. It was reluctant to go back into the jungle, but he gave it no choice. Savage’s heart pounded loudly in his ears. He had a damn good idea what the horse had scented.
A pair of green eyes watched the scene with infinite patience and cunning. The leopard, crouched motionless on the low-hanging limb, could smell the blood of its prey. As the girl came directly beneath it, the two-hundred-pound kill splayed its forelegs, unsheathed its claws from its pads, and sprang. Antonia screamed and rolled away from the beast that dropped from above onto her brother’s body. It watched her warily as it licked the blood on his breast, growling a warning deep in its throat.
Antonia grabbed up a fallen tree branch, then thrust it at the leopard with all her strength. The big cat immediately retaliated. It had her on her back in ten seconds, its bared upper canines ready to sink into its victim’s body to gut it.
For one split second fear paralyzed Savage before he ruthlessly quashed it. He tethered the horse, then reached for his gun, but he could not take the chance of shooting. By the time he sprang, his knife was snugly fitted into the palm of his hand. He rolled with the animal, both of them growling, snarling.
Savage kept his head down between his shoulders to keep his jugular from the cat’s deadly fangs. In spite of his great strength the leopard soon had him on his back. He had known it would be so. He plunged his knife into its underbelly and ripped upward, toward its heart.
When he got to his feet he was covered with blood. The fear that had threatened him earlier came back with a vengeance to claim him now. Antonia lay sobbing. She, too, was covered with blood, but he knew it was her blood, not the leopard’s. He could do nothing for her here; he knew he must get her to the bungalow.
First he lifted Anthony’s body, laid it over the saddle, then slapped the horse’s rump to get it moving in the right direction. As gently as he could he picked up Antonia in his strong arms and lifted her against his heart, murmuring softly to soothe her fear. She deliberately turned her face from him. Though she was the one who was wounded, he was the one who suffered the greater pain in that moment of rejection.
He moved swiftly, his long strides taking them from the jungle, which was now cloaked in total blackness. As he emerged from the confining foliage he saw the eerie red glow that was beginning to light up the sky. He knew immediately what it was, where it was, and who had done this evil deed.
There was a great babble of voices as word of the fire spread. The plantation workers were gathering at the mustering grounds for instructions. As Savage came into view a cry went up, then he was surrounded by his native people, who were willing to lay down their lives for him.
“It is the tea, sahib, the tea!” his head banion wailed.
“I know. Go, do what you can, but don’t put the workers’ lives in danger,” he shouted. “Remember, fire will always spread upward!”
Denville came running, a dozen armed guards at his heels. One of the men led the horse that carried Anthony’s limp body. “Let me help you!” Denville shouted as he lifted his pitch torch high to reveal a blood-drenched Savage.
“Bernard Lamb did this. I know how he thinks. Get the guards to the smokehouse and the rubber trees. That’s where he’ll strike next!” He jerked his head at the guard leading the horse. “Fetch him to the bungalow.”
Savage’s house servants, who had been trained by John Bull, were both competent and efficient. At the back of the bungalow was a field infirmary set up especially to deal with workers’ accidents, which occurred on a regular basis. The two young men who worked there were trained to handle everything from severed fingers to snakebite. Savage left Anthony in their hands with only one admonition. “Keep him alive.” It was an order they dared not disobey.
He carried Antonia to his own chamber.Twofemale servants stood by silently awaiting the Leopard’s orders. “Boiling water, bandages,” he bit out, wasting no words. He stripped off his blood-soaked shirt, dropped it to the floor, then used his knife to cut away what had once been her white dress.
Antonia’s beautiful silken skin was torn from beneath her breast to the top of her thigh. The wounds were not too deep, but infection was almost a certainty. His ice-blue eyes gazed down in disbelief at the rounded mound of her belly, then his gaze flew to hers in silent accusation. She veiled her green eyes immediately and turned her face to the wall.
One female brought the water and bandages, the other brought ointment mixed from jungle plants and silently offered up a vial of poppy juice. Savage hesitated long seconds. Finally he knew he could not bear her to be in unnecessary pain.
“Drink!” The order was so forceful, she did not dare to defy him.
The powerful, calloused hands were capable of infinite gentleness. He washed the wounds, silently willing her eyes to become heavy before he poured on the disinfectant. Her eyes were still flooded with tears, the lids not closing. “Anthony?” she whispered hopelessly.
