T he stillness of death replaced the noises of the night.

Gone were the chirps of the tree frogs and the chatter of the small monkeys in the nearby jungle. Even the low slap of the water against the dock near the river seemed more muted.

Victor Chavez raised his head from the field notebook where he had been writing intently, describing the plant the tribal shaman had showed him a few days before. Carefully packed inside his duffel were a number of slides and specimens from the unusual vegetation, materials he and his colleague, Jessica Morales, would test when he returned to New Jersey.

New Jersey, the Garden State, but the night in Jersey’s farmlands was never as quiet as it was here in the Amazon rain forest…

It’s too quiet, he thought.

He rose from the hand-hewn desk and crept to the square hole cut into the wooden wall, which served as a window in his modest hut. He pulled aside the light canvas shade that had been closing it off.

As he stood at the opening, Victor wondered what it was that had created such a dearth of noise in the rain forest outside. Peering through the crude window, he thought he saw something shifting through the underbrush close to the edge of the village.

A man? he wondered, searching the shadows, where he again caught a glimpse of a shape—definitely something human. Dark and large. For a moment, the silhouette seemed familiar, but only for a moment, as the underbrush stirred again, and instead of a man, a large black jaguar came into view.

For days, Victor had felt the presence of the cat, had thought he had seen the animal stalking him. Now here it was, right out in the open, seemingly without fear.

The black jaguar was magnificent, one of the biggest he had ever seen. Moonlight bathed the animal as it moved farther out from the jungle. Beneath the glistening midnight black of its fur, he could barely make out the distinctive darker rosette patterns of a regular jaguar.

The black cat’s thick muscles bunched, elegant and lethal as it moved, but not away from the huts as he expected. It stalked closer and closer to the village, as if with a purpose.

Cold fear seized Victor when he made eye contact with the animal. An eerily human gaze locked with his, and in that second, he knew the cat was coming for him.

He rushed back to the center of the hut, searching wildly for anything he could use as a weapon. He was a scientist and not a hunter. Ill equipped to fend off a black jaguar, he thought as he grabbed the chair from his desk, thinking he could use it to keep the animal at bay until help came.

He heard rustling outside, then the jaguar flew through the crude window opening and landed before him. Victor screamed. He called out repeatedly for help as he jabbed at the black cat, but with one swipe of its massive paw, the cat ripped the chair from his hands. The jaguar lunged at him, landing solidly on his chest and knocking him to the ground.

Pain seared through Victor’s shoulder and neck as the animal bit him. Deep, sharp fangs easily pierced skin and muscle. His screams turned to a sickening gurgle and a hiss leaking from his ravaged throat.

The cat wasn’t done.

With a shake of its immense head, the jaguar jerked Victor back and forth, as if playing with him. It tossed him aside, then sauntered away from him and roared with delight, even as the cries of the villagers indicated they were on their way.

Eyesight fading as his life bled from him, Victor met the cat’s knowing gaze, saw the glee there. Human glee and satisfaction. A rumble came from the black jaguar’s mouth, almost like laughter.

The animal approached him again, its breath hot against his face. Midnight-black fur soft as it brushed his cheek a second before the cat took Victor’s head into its large mouth.

Victor tried to scream again, the sound echoing only in his brain as the black jaguar delivered its killing bite, crushing his skull as if it were a papier-mâché piñata.

T hick vines crept along the jungle floor, creating a tangle from which ferns and other low-lying ground cover sprouted. Irregular shapes beneath hinted at fallen trees and branches overrun by vegetation, slowly rotting in the heat and humidity of the Amazon rain forest.

The air sat heavily on all the creatures within the rain forest’s embrace. Their chirps and calls created a cacophony of sound and fury until the animals sensed its approach. The rain forest fell silent at once.

The massive black cat slinked through the underbrush, sure-footed and eager for the hunt. Strong muscles shifted beneath ebony fur as it moved along. The cat’s mouth hung open, pink tongue swiping away at the remnants of an earlier meal. A soft snuffle erupted from its nostrils as it sought the scent of another animal.

Or maybe of a human.

With a loud snarl, the animal launched itself toward its prey…

 

Jessica Morales bolted upright in bed, the dream so real she had almost imagined herself in the rain forest watching the approach of the magnificent black panther.

She corrected herself: not a black panther, a black jaguar. The gene for melanism was dominant amongst the South American cats, creating jaguars that had coats ranging from the more familiar black and gold fur to animals that could appear almost entirely black. She had discovered this while doing research to try to make sense of Victor’s death a month earlier. She also learned that jaguars were the only cats big enough to kill a human being.

Lying back against her pillows, Jessica considered that her colleague and former lover had described the black jaguar quite well in the field notebook that had recently been returned to their employer. After determining that Victor’s death had been an unfortunate accident, the Brazilian authorities had forwarded Victor’s duffel bag with the enclosed notebook to his family, who had in turn sent it to the pharmaceutical company where she and Victor had worked together.

The bloodstains on the bag and the protective leather cover of the field notebook taunted her about not having gone with Victor on this assignment. Instead, as the company’s top ethnobotanist and pharmacologist, she’d had to remain in New Jersey to present a seminar to a group of prospective investors.

Maybe if she had been with Victor, he wouldn’t have been killed…

But maybe not, Jessica thought, recalling the details Victor had jotted in the notebook about the immense size of the black jaguar he had seen while out on a specimen-collecting trip with a local shaman and guide from one of the tribes along the Rio Galvardo. Victor had not worried about the animal since his guide had been armed, but after having the animal follow him for a few days, Victor had gotten spooked. His fear had conveyed itself to her as she read through his notes, trying to understand his seemingly inexplicable death.

A series of normal entries in his field journal had deteriorated into an increasing number of anxious notations about the almost constant presence of the large cat and Victor’s troubling encounters with logging-crew members who were cutting down trees in the areas close to the tribal reservation.

One of the last records in the notebook had been Victor’s description of a native plant responsible for some nearly miraculous healing he had witnessed when the shaman had placed the crushed leaves on the wounds suffered by a few of the villagers after a violent encounter with the loggers.

Wide awake and more alert than anyone should be at three in the morning, Jessica decided that trying to return to sleep was futile. Based on what was in Victor’s notebook, she had begun a simple trial, treating a series of cultures with a diluted titration of the suspension from the test tube in Victor’s bloodstained duffel.

If the plant’s properties were as strong as Victor had noted, she should have results by now.

Rising, she quickly showered, dressed, and made the short drive from her riverfront condo in New Brunswick to her nearby office and lab facilities. Her mother despaired that Jessica’s proximity to work would forever rob her of any grandchildren.

Maybe that wasn’t far from the truth.

With thirty barely two years away, Jessica’s personal relationships with men had been few and far between, usually because of the demands of her job. Her visits to her family home were always difficult, because her mother inevitably hounded her about settling down and having kids. In the back of Jessica’s mind was the constant awareness that if her sister were still alive, her mami would probably already have grandchildren.

But her older sister, Rachel, had died many years earlier from an infection that no available antibiotic had been able to stop. Jessica had been just sixteen at the time, her sister twenty. She had sat by Rachel’s bedside, waiting for a miracle as the infection ravaged her sister’s body.

Feeling useless, Jessica had tried to comfort Rachel by reminding her of all the fun times they’d had as children. The trips down the shore and amusements along the boardwalk, the surrey ride during which they had pedaled furiously to catch up to a cute group of boys.

Rachel had smiled at that recollection, but moments later, with a last gasping breath, she had passed away.

Jessica had made a promise to Rachel that day that she would dedicate her life to keeping others from suffering the same fate. More than a dozen years later, she had let nothing get in the way of keeping that promise. Not the many years to obtain her various degrees, the late nights in the lab, or the time spent away from her mother and father as she traveled the world in search of other cures.

Her many journeys had resulted in a treatment that was now the subject of a new drug application being evaluated by the FDA. Maybe her drug would save the life of someone else’s sister and, if not that drug, maybe one of the other medicines she was hoping to discover and develop.

As she wheeled her hybrid SUV into the parking lot of the pharmaceutical house where she worked, Jessica remembered fondly how Victor had been with her during her many journeys to discover new medicines in some of the world’s most unique and sometimes endangered ecosystems.

In her office, her gaze settled on some of the photos she had taken during those trips. One was of her hiking up a mountain in the Himalayas, beside another one of her and Victor standing close to blazing-hot lava fields in Costa Rica. They had been lovers then but had ended the relationship shortly thereafter, once they had realized that the most they could be was friends with benefits.

She picked up the photo and tenderly ran her hand across Victor’s handsome, smiling face. A dimple peeked from one cheek, and the boyish grin reached up into dark brown eyes glittering with merriment. She would miss his gentle ways and his sense of humor and daring, a daring she had shared with him and which she wouldn’t set aside even now. She believed strongly that her adventures made a difference, even if they brought with them the possibility of death.

Jessica hoped that the results from her simple trial would at least demonstrate that Victor’s death hadn’t been in vain, that the plant Victor had brought back from the jungle could save people’s lives.

Flashing her security badge against various doors granted her access to her lab. The cultures she had treated were in a clean room, and she went through the required process of suiting up and making sure she was sterile before entering. At the bench to one side of the room rested the half-dozen petri dishes to which she had administered the plant titration.

She walked over, pulled up a stool, and prepared the first slide. Beneath the magnification of the microscope, the results were clear: no bacterial organisms remained.

Repeating the procedure for each of the five remaining petri dishes, the trial yielded the same result, even for the last dish, which had contained a rather antibiotic-resistant strain of staphylococcus.

One similar to the infection that had killed her sister.

After leaving the clean room and returning to her office, Jessica recorded her observations and results in her lab book. She had to make the arrangements for getting herself to Brazil soon. Victor had clearly found something of great importance, and judging from the notes in his field journal, the habitat for the plant was in danger from the encroachment of the loggers.

Jessica didn’t want to wait too long and risk losing the seeming miracle drug that had cost Victor his life. In addition, in two weeks’ time, she was scheduled to speak before the company’s shareholders at their annual meeting. Her boss would not appreciate her skipping out on the command performance, so her trip to the Amazon would have to be a quick one.

As soon as possible, she intended to contact Javier Dias da Costa, Victor’s guide at the tribal reservation. Dias da Costa was one of the few guides permitted at the reservation and, according to comments in Victor’s journal, none too pleased that the tribal elders had allowed strangers into their midst.

Jessica didn’t know why he disdained foreigners, and she didn’t much care. She had made a promise to Rachel years ago, and now she silently made another to Victor.

Your death will not be in vain, mi amigo, she whispered as she lovingly ran her hand over the bloodstained duffel bag resting on her desktop.

 

Javier Dias da Costa paced in front of the dock like a jungle cat imprisoned in a cage, restlessly shifting back and forth, back and forth, along the cement wharf as he waited for the americana louca who had woken him out of his first pleasant slumber in more than a month. She had called him using his private cell-phone number in the wee hours of the morning, demanding that he take her upriver to the reservation. He hadn’t been able to rest well since finding the remains of the annoying Americana’s colleague.

Even now, the images were fresh in his brain, but that wasn’t what kept him awake.

Guilt refused to let his mind rest.

Guilt and concern that the killing wouldn’t end.

He stopped and searched the wharf for any signs of the woman, hoping she would change her mind and decide not to follow her colleague. Javier already had enough problems. The loggers, led by an ex-tribe member, Armando Ruiz, were a violent, troublesome bunch.

The last thing he needed in the mix was this obviously irrational and selfish American scientist, who called people in the early hours of the morning to say she would be arriving any day. No “Are you available?” or “Are you even interested?” Instead, he had gotten a call on his private number, demanding that he take her to the tribal shaman.

Not that the shaman would object, Javier thought.

When he had gone upriver to tell the tribal elders of the americana’s demand, the shaman, his uncle Antonio, had been eager for the americana to finish what her colleague had begun. His tio hoped that the discovery of the healing plant would finally give the court reason to enforce its orders that Armando cease logging. An order he and his loggers were blatantly ignoring. Javier, however, suspected that Armando would not stop until he had completed his quest for revenge against the tribe, and Javier’s family in particular.

As he glanced up from the dock, Javier caught sight of a tall, very attractive woman waiting up at street level. Snug jeans hugged an ass he could wrap his big hands around, and as she turned in his direction, searching the street for something, his mouth watered at the way her T-shirt embraced her generous breasts. He drew in an appreciative breath as he caught sight of the intriguing face framed by thick, chestnut-colored, shoulder-length hair.

Unfortunately, the approach of an older, heavyset American woman with a camera slung around her neck and a knapsack across one shoulder precluded further observation.

“Senhora Morales, I presume?” he asked the woman, dipping his head in greeting as she paused before him, her thick fingers wrapped around a carefully folded map.

“If you’re her guide, I might say yes,” the woman teased with a smile that brightened her heat-flushed face.

“You’re not Senhora Morales.”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m looking for the ponte pensil to the ecological preserve,” she explained.

Javier efficiently told her the quickest way back upriver and toward the small footbridge to the city’s reserve. Then he turned his attention back to the task at hand and scanned the area again for the American scientist. He resumed pacing but nearly knocked over a woman who had snuck up behind him—the beautiful one from up on the street.

As he met her determined green-eyed gaze, it occurred to him that major trouble had just landed at his door.

“Senhora Morales?” he asked tentatively, praying all the while that she would say no.

“I’m not married,” she replied coolly.

“Senhorita Morales?”

She smiled sexily, lips full and teeth perfectly white and straight. He swiped at a trail of sweat as it slipped down the back of his neck.

“Actually, I haven’t been a senhorita in quite some time. Doutora Morales will do or, maybe better yet, Jessica.”

Warily, he said, “Fala portuguese?”

“I don’t speak Portuguese, but with my Spanish, I can understand a great deal. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Senhor Dias.”

She stuck out her hand in a no-nonsense gesture, and he reluctantly shook it. It wasn’t soft as he’d expect from a scientist, especially a female scientist who was built to be pampered like this one. Shaking off that thought and eager to put distance between them, he said, “Doutora Morales. I was hoping I could get you to reconsider—”

“Guess again, Senhor Dias.”

“Javier, por favor.”

“Javier, I intend to finish what Victor started,” Jessica said firmly. She glanced over Javier’s shoulder and noted a small group headed their way. In the lead was a man she had spotted hanging out in the hotel bar the night before when she had gone to get a drink. With the trip upriver taking six or seven hours, it had been impossible to head to the reservation the day before, as she had landed in the late afternoon, and night travel on the river could be dangerous.

Javier had offered to meet her at her hotel that morning. She had suspected his offer had more to do with persuading her to go back to the States rather than making her trip more comfortable, so she had opted instead to meet him at the docks from which his company ran its tours, thinking it would make it harder for him to refuse once she got her things near his boat.

“Who’s that?” She gestured toward the approaching group, and Javier turned. He muttered a colorful curse beneath his breath.

“Trouble?” she asked.

“O diabo ele mesmo,” he muttered.

Jessica could believe his comment. The devil approaching had a good half a foot on Javier’s six and almost that much more across the width of his shoulders. In contrast to Javier’s rather pleasing golden color, this man was dark everywhere. His hair, skin, and eyes were all as deep a brown as one could imagine before becoming black. A glower furrowed the sweat-shiny planes of his forehead as he stalked their way.

“Comecando o problema outra vez,” the man called out, fists the size of large hamhocks clenched at his side.

“No problems at all, Senhor.” She held out her hand, but the man ignored her.

“Didn’t you understand the last time, Dias?” he said in Portuguese, and jabbed Javier in the chest, rocking him back with the poke.

Javier shot her a glance, clearly controlling his response on her account. The brute was about to touch Javier again, but Jessica snagged his wrist in midair. The dark man laughed and jerked his hand out of her grasp, seemingly as interested in her as he might be in a small gnat. Angered, she took a step toward the bully, but Javier eased his arm across her body to keep her back.

“Armando, we don’t want any problems, compreenda? Senhorita Morales is just a friend of a friend I’m taking for a day trip,” he said. Armando finally looked at Jessica. His gaze turned to a leer as he took in her womanly figure and snug jeans.

“Senhorita? Well, I can help take care of that,” he said, and groped himself, eliciting a series of catcalls and jibes from the trio of men behind him.

“Basta. We’ll be on our way now,” Javier said, and held his hand out to indicate Jessica should head to the end of the wooden dock, where a small river boat was moored.

She hadn’t taken more than a step toward the dock when Armando snagged her arm and jerked her back. She stumbled for a moment before righting herself.

“Don’t touch me again,” she warned, but Armando merely threw back his head and laughed. His trio of hyenas joined him loudly enough to attract the attention of passersby along the wharf and the nearby street.

Javier tried to place himself between her and Armando, but Armando lunged at her once again. She neatly sidestepped him, and with a quick grab of her own, she bent Armando’s arm back and up, applying hard pressure to drive him to his knees.

“I told you not to touch me agian,” she pointed out calmly.

Armando fought to jerk free of her grasp, and when he couldn’t, his three minions came at her.

“Filho da puta,” Javier cursed beneath his breath, and threw himself at the trio, fighting them off while she struggled to keep her hold on the brute she had pinned on his knees. If he got free, there was no way she and Javier could fight off the group of violent men.

The sounds of fists striking flesh and the sickening crunch of bone suddenly gave way to a shrill whistle and thudding footsteps. The police were coming to break up the fight.

All three of Armando’s men lay on the ground, groaning while Javier stood above them, slightly winded but apparently unscathed. As he met her gaze, he shot her a vicious look and commanded, “Diexe-o ir!”

She released Armando as he had instructed, looking up at the approaching policeman. Armando glared at her, then shouted curses at his men and ordered them to get back to work. They scrambled to their feet and rushed away in the direction of a large tugboat at the far end of the wharf. In front of it was an immense load of timber.

When the officer was satisfied that the dispute was over, he left the dock.

“Let’s go,” Javier said, and snagged her arm. She dug in her heels, forcing him to stop.

He faced her then, and she noticed the raw-looking scrape along one high cheekbone. It would be bruised by morning, and she winced, feeling guilty that she’d put him in the position to get hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Doutora Morales, you’ll know the real meaning of sorry if you get in Armando’s way again.”

Pulling back her shoulders and raising her head at a defiant angle, Jessica snapped, “I can take care of myself.”

Javier snorted and crossed his arms. “Really? Then I guess you can manage those bags all by yourself,” he said, motioning to her two heavy suitcases sitting on the dock nearby. “Let’s go,” he added, and walked away.

Jessica glared at his retreating back. She readjusted her knapsack and slipped it over both shoulders before picking up her bags and following him.

“Come mierda,” she muttered in Spanish beneath her breath as the weight of the bags dragged on her arms, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from noticing that the jerk had quite a nice ass.

J avier didn’t address Jessica directly once she was onboard, except to advise her that they would arrive at the reservation by late afternoon. Perfect by her. It let her turn her attention to the many sights to be seen and captured with her camera along their lazy ride upriver.

The boat was wide and flat-bottomed, with a thick canvas canopy to diffuse the strong rays of the sun. The craft was clearly intended for short river cruises and not the prolonged overnight stays that Javier’s company offered on the larger passenger ships docked back in town. A trio of benches filled the center of the boat, but toward the stern was an open space. Two hammocks swung there lazily, probably for a mid-afternoon siesta.

The boat chugged lazily through the nearly black water of the Rio Galvardo, which moved more briskly than that of the Amazon. The dark coffee color was a byproduct of the tannins leaching from the bark of nearby trees. It had a rather beneficial effect: the tannins killed bacteria and mosquito larvae.

So far, Jessica hadn’t been bitten even once, and as she saw natives drinking and collecting water from the edges of the river, she assumed the tannins made the water potable as well.

The natives moved in and around huts that rose from the river on stilts to keep their floors above water during flood season. Some of the natives waved to the boat. A canoe or two ventured out into the deeper waters, intent on fishing.

A couple of hours later, Jessica noticed a large tugboat lumbering downriver and pushing a large barge loaded with cut timber. She recognized the emblem on the tug as the same one that belonged to Armando, which she had seen earlier at the dock. As it passed, she called out to Javier, “Why are they still cutting?”

Javier stood at the wheel of the boat, his too-broad shoulders stiff beneath the sweat-stained khaki shirt he wore. “The logging crews are far removed from the courts and their orders.”

She thought of the comments in Victor’s field journal about the fights with the loggers and his concerns that they would soon be at the location of the miraculous healing plant to which the shaman had guided him. If the loggers cut down those trees around the plant’s delicate habitat, a valuable and unique resource might be lost. She thought of her sister and others like her who would suffer for it.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Walking to the front of the boat, she stood beside Javier. Her lightweight cotton shirt was sticking to her from the heat of the day, and she stripped it off, revealing the tank top beneath.

He shot an appreciative glance at her body from the corner of his eye but didn’t face her. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

She’d been so busy taking in the scenery that she hadn’t noticed, but now her body awakened, and her stomach issued a noisy growl.

He smirked, and with a quick jerk of his head toward a cooler at his feet, he said, “There’s some sandwiches there. Soda as well. Help yourself.”

She bent and removed two of the paper-rolled sandwiches, offering one up to him. He lashed the wheel of the boat in place with a rope and grabbed the sandwich. He laid it carefully on the wood of the cockpit and peeled off his shirt. Like her, he wore a tank top beneath, exposing the powerful muscles of his chest and arms. She dragged her gaze away from all that enticing masculinity.

Leaning on the edge of the captain’s cockpit, Jessica unwrapped her sandwich and opened a bottle of soda. The sandwich was simple: spicy chourico sausage on crusty Portuguese rolls. She took a bite and murmured, “Delicious. Obrigado.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smirk at her use of Portuguese.

Anger rose up swiftly at his condescending attitude. “You’ve obviously got a problem with me, so what is it? Have I done something to offend you?”

Javier ripped off a large chunk from his sandwich and chewed slowly, thoughtfully, before swallowing and turning his green-gold gaze on her. “You think that because you can say a few of our words, you understand us. That you have the right to barge in where you’re not wanted.”

“Where I’m not wanted? The shaman said—”

“The shaman thinks your pharmaceutical company will help him stop Armando from continuing his logging, but he forgets the risk that outsiders bring to our tribe.” He bent over and pulled a bottle of soda from the cooler.

Outsiders like me, Jessica thought sadly. It wasn’t an unusual attitude. She had faced it more than once during her travels. Locals who feared her research would change their way of life were always suspicious. She just wished she could learn to stop taking it so personally. “I won’t interfere in your ways.”

Javier snorted and took a long chug of soda before facing her. “But that’s exactly what they want you to do—to interfere, to get FUNAI and the courts to stop Armando, only…”

He shook his head and shrugged his broad shoulders. He eyed her up and down, the look mixed with annoyance and possibly attraction. “Get your samples, and then get out.”

She jerked back as if he had hit her. She fought to keep from slapping the arrogance off his handsome face. “You can’t order me around, Mr. Dias. I’ve got a job to do, and I’ll go when I’m ready to go.”

Grabbing what remained of her sandwich and soda, she stormed to the back of the boat. Whenever Javier glanced back at her over the next few hours, she glared at him. He cursed under his breath and focused on steering the boat down the dark river.

At close to four in the afternoon, Javier cut across the wide breadth of the river toward the shore. She saw a modest dock sticking out into the water. Well beyond it, nestled into the canopy of the rain forest, was an assortment of thatched huts and buildings. She realized this was the main settlement of the tribal reservation.

The boat bumped against the wooden dock, which creaked and groaned as Javier reversed the engines to force the craft closer. Natives from shore rushed forward to help secure the boat in place. Jessica stood at the back of the boat, feeling uncertain, while the natives showered attention on Javier.

He smiled and hugged some of them, jovially speaking with others. Both men and women were bare-chested and sported an assortment of tattoos and markings on their bodies. The bright red designs on their faces and bodies and on the palm headbands the men wore were probably achiote, Jessica realized. The men also wore strips of palm around their chests, waists, and foreheads.

At odds with the tattoos and palm adornments were the contemporary designs in the fabrics of the women’s skirts and shorts and the modern pants most of the men wore. The modern world had already touched them even in this most simple of ways, Jessica realized. No wonder Javier has concerns about outside visitors, she thought.

The natives eyed her just as curiously, pointing at her khaki shorts and tank top. They whispered among themselves as she tentatively smiled at them. A moment later, they quieted, as a group of older men approached from the village. No doubt, the tribal elders.

The man in the lead immediately went to Javier, embraced him, and clapped him on the back. When Javier realized she was watching his warm welcome, the engaging smile he had worn until then faded, and his full lips became a tight slash of disapproval. A muscle ticked along the fine, strong line of his jaw.

His continued resentment stung Jessica, although she hid it, pasting on her best smile as Javier formally introduced her to the man who had embraced him. “Doutora Morales. Meu tio, Antonio.”

Javier’s uncle was well into his sixties, with white hair, a bright smile, and an inquisitive gaze. He glanced from her to Javier, as if he sensed the undercurrents of dislike between.

“Boa vinda,” he said, and took her outstretched hand, clasping it warmly between his work-roughened hands.

“I am sorry about your friend,” he said carefully in English, surprising her. She had expected the tribe would speak only Portuguese, not English.

As if understanding her surprise, he added, “Javier’s mother, my sister, married a Brazilian scientist from outside the tribe who brought many American friends to our home.”

Jessica shot a quick look at Javier. His Brazilian father explained his larger height and build, as well as his caramel-colored skin, prominent facial bone structure, and dark hair color. At that moment, she realized her mami was probably right about her obsession with work. One of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen stood a few feet away, and she was looking at him as if he were a science project. She wondered if it bothered him that his mother had married an outsider.

Returning her gaze to the older man, Jessica lowered her head deferentially to his uncle, who she had been told was the tribal shaman. “Thank you for having me here. It’s nice to have someone make me feel welcome.”

Her pointed comment was not lost on the shaman, whose gaze once again flitted between her and Javier before he introduced the five men behind him. She shook the hand of each elder and maintained a respectful posture until Antonio slipped his arm through hers and led her off the boat. He waved at his nephew over his shoulder.

“Bring her bags to the hut, Javier. She will need some rest so she can enjoy the feast tonight.”

A small smile flickered across Jessica’s face as she realized Javier must be scowling behind her. Now whose turn is it to carry the bags? she thought.

Antonio took her through the heart of the village, pointing out various landmarks and showing her a thatched hut near the edge of the jungle. She wondered as they approached if it had been Victor’s hut.

“No, my dear. We have torn that hut down to release the spirits within,” he said, as if reading her mind. He motioned to a bare area a few yards behind the hut.

At the door, he patted her hand. “Rest. The trip on the river can be tiring. We’ve planned a special feast for tonight before I take you into the rain forest tomorrow.”

She hadn’t expected him to take her into the jungle so soon.

“Is there a reason for the rush?” She had wanted to get the lay of the land first and also possibly speak to him about Victor’s death before taking a trip to the plant’s special habitat.

The smile on Antonio’s face wavered a bit as he said, “I worry that the loggers are getting too close to that area. It’s best we not delay.”

Without waiting for her reply, Antonio stepped away and disappeared back into the village. Javier, who was panting behind them as he lugged her bags, unceremoniously tossed her luggage at the foot of the hut’s door.

“Do not stray on your own, especially into the jungle surrounding the village. It may not be safe,” he warned her.

Defiantly raising her chin, she said, “I can take care of myself, remember?”

Javier eyed her up and down. The heat of desire flared in his gaze before he shook his head and laughed as he walked away, leaving her to stew.

 

The feast didn’t begin until night had fallen.

Javier walked to Jessica’s hut to escort her, frowning at the thought of another outsider’s visit to the tribe. He knocked on the door, and she immediately answered.

She was still wearing a tank top in deference to the heat and humidity, but this one was feminine, black with a touch of black lace all around the neckline. The color accented the smooth creaminess of her skin, and the fabric clung to her, drawing his attention to her full breasts. As he admired her curves, he realized she had changed into a loose, gauzy skirt as well, which hung to mid-calf.

Her shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a fancy knot, although some slightly unruly wisps had escaped to feather around her forehead. The hairstyle exposed the fine features of her face and her hazel eyes. She peered at him intently.

“Are you ready?” he asked gruffly, and offered his arm.

Jessica hesitated. She had noted the attentive gleam in his gaze and tried to keep her own interest from roving up and down his nearly naked body. Still, it would be awkward to refuse, so she slipped her arm through his while he escorted her to the feast, trying to ignore his potent masculinity.

The tribe had built a large bonfire in the center of the village, and many people gathered around it, the men seated in smaller circles while the women served them food.

Javier led Jessica to the circle of tribal elders. As she approached, Antonio shifted to make space for her to sit with them. Javier squeezed in beside her.

Disconcerting, she thought, as they brushed shoulders in the tight circle. Javier had adopted the dress of his mother’s tribe, even down to decorating his body with a series of small circles in a rosette pattern along his torso. A palm belt wrapped around the lean, ribbed muscles of his abdomen, and another rested just beneath his chest, almost grazing his dark copper nipples. He had no hair on his chest, much like the rest of the men present, but his short, dark hair was a shade lighter than that of the rest of the tribe, and his skin was noticeably paler, a rich color made more golden by the firelight.

Javier had forgone his jeans for a small loincloth, which barely covered his lean hips and exposed his sculpted midsection and long, thickly muscled legs. Legs that also brushed against hers as they sat beside each other. Goosebumps rose along her legs each time his thigh rubbed hers accidentally.

As she examined him from the corner of her eye, she noted the palm band that encircled his forehead. It had a series of geometric designs, different from those the other men had adopted. Antonio leaned close to her and explained, “The patterns identify the clans within the tribe. Javier’s is the jaguar, the strongest of all the animals within the jungle, much like my nephew.”

Javier seemed embarrassed by his uncle’s comment but said nothing as a woman handed him and Jessica bowls filled with some kind of fish stew. Jessica tried a sip and smiled. “It’s delicious.”

Antonio offered her a wooden cup containing a strong-smelling fruit punch. As he raised his cup in a toast, a man from another circle stood and began some kind of pantomime. Antonio explained, “The spirits we choose guide us. They open their arms to embrace us when we call upon them to help.”

“Embrace you?”

Javier cautioned his uncle, “Tio. She cannot understand our ways so quickly.” The condemnation in his tone implied she could never accept their ways.

Jessica took a bracing gulp of the drink. It immediately created a pleasant buzz of energy in her belly. Javier grabbed her wrist as she raised her cup for another sip. He warned her, “It’s not just fruit punch. Be careful, or the alcohol and guarana will knock you on your ass.”

He emphasized that statement by risking a quick appreciative glance downward to her posterior, but he quickly dropped her wrist and returned his attention to the men beside him.

“Really? I think I can handle the kick,” she said, and took a healthy swig of the punch, earning a glare of annoyance from Javier.

The rest of the night passed pleasantly as the members of the tribe took turns dancing and acting out various stories. As they sang and danced before the fire, Antonio translated some of the stories for Jessica and explained the significance of the various tattoos and headbands. The food and punch continued to flow through the night, with the women bringing around yet more fish, in addition to plates with an assortment of root vegetables. Large platters of fresh fruits followed to end the meal.

Jessica was enjoying the night, even though Javier kept glaring at her. He seemed alternately puzzled and displeased by her presence there, and she sensed that it was because he wasn’t sure of her reaction to the tribal customs. It seemed as if he was almost hoping for her disdain, so that he could justify his anger at having an outsider present for the feast. Despite that, she refused to let him ruin the night for her.

When one of the women pulled Jessica out of her seat, inviting her to join a group of women who were dancing closer to the bonfire, she went willingly, ignoring Javier’s disbelieving look. By the time she had gamely handled the women’s playful teasing as she struggled with their steps, it was late, but another cup of the guarana punch kept her awake and tuned into the activities all around. An hour later, however, people finally began to disperse and return to their huts.

Javier rose and held out his hand.

“I will walk you back,” he said, but she shunned his offer.

He chuckled and waved dismissively. “By all means, go take care of yourself.”

He walked away then, the flames from the fire sweeping golden light over the strong muscles in his back and arms. She suddenly itched to touch his creamy café con leche skin. But she ignored the pull between her legs, a sure sign that maybe she had drunk too much punch.

Bidding good night to the elders, Jessica rose and strolled leisurely toward her hut. As she passed the first ring of structures, the night seemed to swallow her into the darkness. She paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the deep black, so different from the city at night with its unnatural lights.

A snap of a twig snagged her attention. She peered into the shadows but saw nothing as her eyes finally completed their adjustment. She took another step toward her hut, but before she could cry out someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with his hand.

Years of martial arts training took over. Jessica stamped down hard on her attacker’s foot, making him grunt and loosen his grip just enough that she could deliver a sharp elbow to his solar plexus.

He released his hold across her mouth. Jessica sucked in a breath, bent, and wrenched his arm, sending him up and over her to land with a dull thud.

A second later, something rushed past her, emitting a low growl as it did so. Javier appeared suddenly, seeming to rush out of nowhere.

Her attacker jumped to his feet and whipped something out of his pocket—a large knife. Its blade glinted brightly as the moonlight caught its edge.

The man jabbed at Javier with it, but he dodged the blade and somehow managed to strike out and land a blow on the man’s face that rocked him backward. As the man stumbled, the moonlight played over his features. He had a strong, stocky build, and his face and coloring were not that of the tribespeople. For a second, Jessica thought she had seen him before. At the docks? she wondered.

Javier advanced on the man again, but her attacker slashed the knife wildly through the air, driving Javier back. The man jabbed and lunged, his face filled with fear as Javier landed one blow and then another between wild swipes of the blade.

The man suddenly rushed forward but tripped on a loose vine. Javier couldn’t react quickly enough to the change in the attacker’s direction, and the two men went sprawling onto the ground in a heap.

Fearing that in such close quarters Javier might be injured by the knife, Jessica moved toward them. As her attacker’s body became exposed for just a moment, she launched a kick at his side and sent him stumbling away from Javier. The knife went flying. Too far for the man to reach.

Seeing that the odds had suddenly turned, her attacker dashed off into the jungle, too quick for them to follow. Javier rose and stood beside her.

They were both breathing heavily from a combination of fear and exertion. As she faced Javier, Jessica realized he had one hand against his side. In the moonlight, the blood along his ribs seemed black against his skin.

“Damn,” she cursed.

“I know you’re too big and brave to ask for help, but I’m not. Do you think you could do something about this cut?”

J essica took hold of his hand and led him into her hut.

She flipped on a battery-powered lantern she had brought with her and quickly pulled a small first-aid kit from her luggage.

As she turned, Javier stepped closer to her, and her elbow brushed across his abs, reminding her of all his blatant masculinity.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, but then laid a hand against the taut muscles at his waist to urge him toward the light so she could examine the wound.

The knife had caught him across a rib, preventing the blade from biting too deeply, but the long cut would need to be closed somehow. “This may hurt,” she said, as she wet a piece of gauze with antiseptic.

“I think I can handle it,” he replied, but he flinched, and his muscles tensed as she applied the gauze to his wound. He muttered a curse beneath his breath, even though her touch was gentle as she cleaned the area.

She told herself this was not the time to appreciate his amazing body as she worked, but it was nearly impossible to ignore so much lean muscle and creamy skin so enticingly close. She hurried as much as she could, using the butterfly bandages in her kit to close the gaping edges of the wound before taping a piece of gauze over the injury.

Lightly, she smoothed the tape around the edges of the gauze, trying to ignore his physical presence. Trying not to see how the reddish rosette patterns fo the achiote played across his skin and the palm bands hugged an impossibly lean waist and thick-muscled chest.

As she shot a glance up at him, she realized that he was as affected as she, despite their earlier enmity. His breath was ragged, but not with pain.

With desire.

He bent from his greater height until the edge of his jaw brushed the side of her forehead. His breath was warm against the sweat-damp skin at her temple.

She stroked her hand over the gauze covering the wound, but he laid his hand there and stilled the motion.

His hand was hot, his palm deliciously rough, and the pull came between her legs again as she imagined him touching her. Her nipples tightened in anticipation, and to battle that feeling, she asked, “Who was that man who attacked us?”

Javier stroked her hand lightly, slowly shifted his hand upward to caress her forearm. “One of Armando’s goons.”

Needing to touch him as he caressed her, she mimicked his action, laying her hand on the sculpted biceps of his arm. “Is the timber valuable enough—”

“To kill for? No. Armando has other reasons for hurting the tribe,” he said, moving his hand up to cup the top of her arm, where he lightly caressed her shoulders with the pad of his thumb.

Her gaze locked with his, searching the strange gold-green gaze, which revealed nothing but desire.

“What kinds of reasons?” she asked, as she shifted her hand to his chest and traced the edge of the palm band encircling it. As she did, she fingered the hard nub of his nipple, dragging a ragged breath from him.

“Isn’t it enough for you to know you need to watch out for yourself?” Even as he said it, he cradled her breast and tweaked her nipple through the thin cotton, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger. His actions caused a shudder to rip through her body.

“Well?” he challenged, as he snaked his hand upward, slipping beneath the edge of her tank top. He caressed her as he drew down both the shirt and her bra to reveal her breast to the warm evening air.

“Do you think you’re owed this little look because you came to my rescue?” she asked, but she didn’t stop him as he lowered his mouth to taste the nipple he had exposed. If anything, she held him closer, cradling the back of his head with her hand as she said, “Or do you think this is how to say thanks for my tending to you?”

He chuckled against her breast and gave her nipple an enticing lick with a cat-rough tongue before pulling away.

“You’re quite different from what I expected,” he said, nuzzling her nose with his lips before easing his mouth over hers. He tasted of the fruity guarana punch as she opened her mouth to his and licked his lips. They were soft and warm. He gave her a hint of a smile as she traced the edges of them with her tongue and then eased past the seam of his mouth to taste him fully.

The kiss went on and on as they sampled each other and eased close, passion rising until they were both breathing raggedly.

Jessica finally stepped back to break contact with him as she rearranged her clothing, suddenly embarrassed by the unexpected interlude and the force of her reaction. It had to be the alcohol and the guarana, she told herself, denying her attraction to him was based on anything else.

“So I’m not what you expected? Why?” she asked, crossing her arms before her as if to provide some defense against his still-hungry gaze.

“Because you’ve got more balls than most men I’ve met. Regardless, remember to be careful in the jungle tomorrow. Armando and his goons are getting bolder every day.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the hut, leaving her to ponder just what had gone so wrong that she already had someone out to get her and why Javier had been in such a hurry to leave the room, just when things were starting to heat up.

She had come to the jungle for answers. To find out about the plant with the healing powers. To learn more about Victor’s death.

After today’s run-ins with Armando and his men, she was wondering if they had anything to do with her friend’s death and vowed to find out.

 

The next morning, Javier’s uncle was waiting for her in the center of the village, close to the remnants of the previous night’s bonfire. Javier stood at his side, a rifle cradled in his arms, his face impassive. He did not reveal a scintilla of the passion present the night before or the slightest bit of injury from the knife would she’d dressed. It surprised her.

No one could heal that fast.

“Good morning,” she said, earning a welcome from his uncle but only an annoyed grunt from Javier. It bothered her, but what had she expected? A good-morning kiss?

Whatever had happened last night had probably been ill advised no matter how good it had felt.

With a curt nod in Javier’s direction, she adjusted the straps on her knapsack, wanting the load to be balanced for their trip into the rain forest. It was just supposed to be a day trip, but she had decided to carry a small tent and sleeping bag in addition to other supplies, just in case. She had learned in her many adventures that you didn’t take any chances.

Javier seemed to understand that, since he tossed her the rifle. “You should take this, assuming you know how to use it.”

With practiced ease, she drew back the bolt, made sure the rifle was loaded, and slid the bolt back home, making the weapon ready to be fired. “Do you have any extra ammo?”

He reached for a small bag on the ground beside him and tossed it to her. “This should be more than enough.”

She hadn’t planned on arming herself, but after last night’s incident, it seemed to make sense.

“Will you be joining us after all?” she asked. As far as she knew, his uncle would be her only guide.

“No, but I won’t be far,” he replied cryptically, and embraced his uncle, murmuring something to him in tones too low for her to understand.

He stalked off, leaving her and his uncle by the fire pit.

As she slung the ammo over her shoulder and the rifle under her arm, she looked at the tribal shaman, who was examining her intently.

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this after last night? I am worried about Armando and his people. They may be close to where we are going.”

She thought of Victor lying dead on the floor of the hut, his body maimed by the jungle cat, his skull crushed.

Hesitation filled her for a moment but was quickly replaced by the image of her sister’s fever-ravaged face and the sounds of her struggling to breathe as the infection robbed her of life. This plant could have saved her and it will save others, Jessica thought.

“I’m sure,” she repeated.

“Then I will take you there.”

Antonio led her out into the jungle. He plunged into the underbrush but quickly found a path that had been trodden down by the passage of feet. He explained, “My people have been going to this place for many, many years to gather the plants and animals we use.”

“The plant you showed Victor?” she asked as she plodded behind him, having to bend on occasion to avoid a branch or a dangling vine.

“Yes. Also a small tree frog and some leeches from one of the streams,” he explained, but he became silent afterward, as if speaking somehow violated the spirits of the jungle, which swallowed them up the farther they got from the village.

At one point, Jessica sensed another presence and stopped. She listened to the noises around her. Something shifted nearby in the underbrush, and she whispered, “Antonio.”

The shaman paused and picked up his head, as if scenting the wind. With a smile, he unerringly pointed toward the thick underbrush yards away.

She followed the direction of his arm and saw it then, just a flash of gold and brown amid the deep emerald foliage. Whipping the rifle around, she trained it on the blur she had seen, sighted the rifle as a massive gold-brown head came into view, thick pink tongue lolling from its mouth, sharp white fangs visible even at this distance.

“Do not worry, Jessica. It’s a good spirit come to guide us,” Antonio said, but she kept the rifle trained on the large jaguar.

The animal paused, eyeing them, and a low rumble came from its mouth. She tightened her finger on the trigger, but then, as she met the cat’s intense eyes, she realized that there was no danger in the somehow familiar gaze.

Lowering the rifle, she accepted that maybe it was a good spirit sent to guide them, sent to protect them. Something about that gaze made her ask, “Tell me about Javier.”

Antonio chuckled and shook his head. “What is there to say? He’s a good boy. The light of our tribe.”

The light, huh?

“If Javier is the light, what’s Armando?”

Antonio stopped short and faced her silently. She slipped her thumbs beneath the straps of her knapsack, fingering them before she added, “Javier thinks Armando wants to hurt the tribe. Why?”

With a shrug, Antonio turned and began to walk again. “Armando and Javier were always at odds as young boys, maybe because no matter what Armando did, he could never be as good as Javier.”

“Because of that, he wants to destroy the tribe’s lands?”

“There are other reasons,” Antonio said as he plowed forward. She caught another blur of gold and dark brown nearby before it moved away from them.

As she walked, Jessica thought about the many reasons Armando would have a beef with Javier, and the most obvious one came to mind. “The fight is about a woman?”

Antonio gave a strangled chuckle. “Don’t men always fight over women? But no, not a woman.”

He stopped in his tracks and examined her carefully. “Why does this interest you so? I though perhaps that you and Javier—”

“Were at odds? We are…were. But after last night, it seems that I’ve become a part of their fight. That makes me want to know what’s going on between them.”

Especially if she and Javier were going to continue their rather enticing interlude.

With a nod, Antonio said, “Years ago, Armando’s parents came down with an illness that one of our American visitors brought with him.”

“One of your brother-in-law’s friends?” she questioned, and Antonio confirmed it before he resumed their journey.

“But what about this plant you’re taking me to? Couldn’t that have saved his parents?” she asked as she hurried after him, his steps surprisingly sure and spry for a man his age.

“Sometimes our medicines aren’t enough.”

Jessica understood. Sometimes man’s medicines failed, and death won the battle.

They walked in silence until the rain forest canopy above them opened and gave way to blue skies and a large clearing.

She stepped into the open area, viewing the vegetation surrounding the spot and the shorter ferns and grasses blanketing the ground. Mixed among them, she recognized the broad, almost succulent leaves of the plant Victor had drawn in his field notebook. Victor had always been a wonderful artist, and he had quite accurately captured the plant that grew in thick abundance on the rain forest floor.

As Jessica bent to examine one of the plants, Antonio strode several yards away to one side of the clearing. He bent down and began gathering some of the plants. Jessica mimicked his movements, shifting to a spot on the far side of the clearing, where the plants were more plentiful. As she leaned over to gather more specimens, she sensed another presence.

Standing, Jessica peered into the thick plants and foliage a few yards away. The leaves shuddered, then parted, as an immense black cat stalked into the clearing—a black jaguar. But this was a very different animal from the golden jaguar spirit that had followed them earlier.

Jessica froze as she met the black jaguar’s gaze, malevolent and dangerous. She somehow knew this was the cat that had killed Victor.

Now it was coming for her.

Barely ten feet separated her from the huge black cat.

She quickly searched the jungle around them. There was no sign of the golden jaguar she had seen earlier.

The distance between her and the black jaguar was too short for her to draw her rifle, sight, and fire, but she did so anyway, praying she could get off the shot before…

The large black cat sprang at her, jaws wide, claws outstretched to rip her to shreds.

She braced for impact.

T he killing strike never came, as a large golden body came out of nowhere and hurtled through the air, snaring the black cat in midflight.

The two cats collided, one black and one golden, and landed on the ground in a tumble of sharp claws and snarling complaint.

Jessica brought up the rifle, but the two animals were nearly inseparable, jaws clamped tightly on each other’s body. Sharp claws tried to rip and tear as they rolled around on the ground, one seeking dominance over the other. Clods of grass and vegetation flew into the air from the fury of their struggles.

Antonio came to stand beside her. He laid a hand on her arm and urged her to lower the rifle. “The golden jaguar spirit is protecting us. You may hurt it if you fire.”

She didn’t relax her stance, following the fight as the two animals struggled before her. Her arms shook. Her hands were wet on the stock of the rifle as she watched the bloody combat. She couldn’t lower the weapon, especially as it soon appeared that the golden jaguar might be waging a losing battle.

The black cat was so much bigger. Stronger. It had a tight hold on the golden jaguar, which began weakening before her eyes.

Gripping the rifle stock tightly, Jessica carefully tracked the two animals, and when the golden jaguar was forced to its hindquarters, it exposed the body of the bigger cat.

She fired, striking the black jaguar high up on its shoulder. With an odd, almost human scream, the animal stumbled back and released its hold on the golden cat. It turned its head toward her and growled.

She quickly worked the bolt on the rifle and fired again, missing this time as the bullet disappeared into the thick ground cover. The black jaguar whirled and ran away. She worked the bolt-action rifle once more and fired after the cat as it raced toward the underbrush, its gait awkward from the wound on its shoulder.

Then she trained the rifle on the golden jaguar that lingered in the clearing, badly mauled and struggling to remain on its feet. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, and heavy rasping breaths shook its wounded sides. It slowly fell to the ground.

When the shaman walked fearlessly toward the jaguar, she dropped her weapon and cautiously followed her guide.

A large chunk of meat had been torn from high up on the animal’s hindquarter. Deep furrows marred the beauty of its fur. The other cat’s claws had raked viciously through muscle and down to pink-white bone. The jaguar’s muscles trembled and quivered from the pain, and its breathing was ragged.

As they approached, its green-eyed gaze, a strangely familiar gaze, swept over them before the cat’s eyes rolled back in its head and a low growl of pain escaped the animal.

To her surprise, Antonio kneeled beside the jaguar and laid a hand on its side. She bent down beside him. The animal quieted as she crouched closer to the shaman. Then he whispered, “Release the spirit, Javier. Return to your human form.”

Before her eyes, the cat’s body shook, more violently than before. The gold and brown fur seemed to bleed away, fading from site until it was replaced by human skin, heavily bruised and scraped in spots. Next came the loud pop and crackle of sinew and bone. Before her eyes, the cat’s skeleton shifted and moved, elongated and flattened from quadruped to biped.

She watched in a combination of shocked horror and scientific fascination as the broad face of the cat extended, and the muzzle became a nose. Sharply defined cheekbones emerged from the flatter planes of the cat’s visage, and gold-green eyes—Javier’s eyes—trained on her face as the transformation slowly completed.

Javier now lay on the jungle floor, bleeding profusely from a combination of bite and claw marks. Deep bruises marred large sections of his torso and arms. His muscles trembled beneath Antonio’s hand as his uncle talked to him softly.

“Rest, Javier. We will care for you,” he said, and looked up at her, asking for her assistance.

As confused and dazed as she was from what had just happened, Javier had saved her life. She would help in any way she could.

“What can I do? I know first aid.”

“Set up the tent. We’ll have to spend the night until Javier is recovered. I’ll make a mash to apply to the wounds,” Antonio said.

Jessica quickly went to work, setting up the tent and laying out the sleeping bag within. She collected some deadfall, dry leaves, and branches she could use as tinder and fuel, because she wanted the materials handy when night fell so she could make some food, but also to keep away any animals that might decide to investigate their camp. She reloaded the rifle and kept it within close range.

Antonio helped Javier to his feet and then half carried him inside the tent. Javier lay down on the sleeping bag. When Antonio emerged from the tent, he motioned to the campfire she had prepared. “Why don’t you start that? Javier will need to feed soon.”

“Feed?” she wondered aloud. It sounded so animalistic. Not human.

But Javier wasn’t human, only…

He wasn’t an animal, either. At least, he wasn’t one right now, as she snuck a peek through the opening of the tent and saw Javier’s naked body. His magnificent naked human body, bruised, battered, and torn in so many spots that something inside her ached in sympathy.

Antonio laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Do not judge too quickly, Jessica.”

She withdrew and concentrated on getting the fire going and heating some of the water from their canteens to make one of the freeze-dried stews she had packed into her knapsack. She lost track of time as she worked. Antonio returned with a small bunch of ripe bananas and some papayas. He placed them on the ground beside the fire. She realized night had started to fall around them.

Antonio sat beside her, and she grabbed one of the small bowls from her mess kit. She ladled some of the stew for the shaman. With a grateful nod, he accepted it, and she said, “Is there anything else we can do for Javier?”

“I made a mash from the plant and applied it to his wounds. That will help him heal more quickly,” he said, and cradled the metal bowl in his hands.

She filled a second bowl and said, “I’ll feed him—”

“Eat first. Let him rest for now.”

She prepared a serving for herself and ate it mechanically, the stew tasteless as she considered the impossibility of what she had just seen. Javier’s transformation was painful to behold on so many levels. Even now, the sickening sounds of bones and joints cracking and popping reverberated in her skull. She shuddered.

“I’m going to see how he’s doing.”

Without waiting for the shaman’s reply, she refilled her bowl, grabbed some of the fruit, and slipped into the tent, easing over Javier’s prone body. Someone had turned on the small battery-powered lantern she had brought, and it provided dim light, just enough to see Javier’s wary gaze as she came in and kneeled beside him.

“How are you?” she asked. Her eyes swept up and down his body uneasily, noting the many injuries but also the splendor of his human form.

One hundred percent perfect male, she thought as she beheld him.

As a blush swept over her face, Javier grabbed the edge of the sleeping bag and covered himself as best he could, but it hid just half of his body and only some of his wounds. The smaller injuries had already knitted closed, thanks to the mash Antonio had worked into them.

“Hungry,” Javier said, and motioned to the bowl she held in her hand. He was exhausted. She suspected that accepting his animal spirit and changing into the jaguar always took a great deal of energy from him. He needed to eat and rest to recharge.

She slipped one arm behind his back and helped him to sit up. He grimaced as he did so but bit back a groan of pain. He quickly ate the bowl of stew and polished off a few bananas and a papaya before lying back down. Jessica watched him guardedly, unsure what to expect. He finally said, “Ask away. I can tell you want to know.”

Jessica leaned close and laid a hand on his shoulder, as if to convince herself of his humanity.

In a choked whisper, she said, “You’re a human now, but before—”

“I called forth my spirit and became a jaguar.”

She softly ran her fingers along the line of his collarbone, tracing a bruise there. Her gaze drifted over his body once again before locking with his. “The other cat—the black jaguar. Can I assume it was—”

“Armando,” he jumped in.

“Was he the one who killed Victor?” she asked, her gaze roaming over his body as if she still didn’t quite believe what she had seen earlier.

“I think he did, although I have no way of proving it.”

Jessica moved her hand to his uninjured shoulder. The other one had a deep bite mark and bruising from the force of Armando’s jaws. She winced and asked, “Does it hurt?”

“It’s healing. If I call the spirit to return again—”

“The spirit? Were you bitten? Like a werewolf?” she asked.

“It can happen with a bite, but no. That wasn’t how I became—”

“A were-jaguar.”

He paused at her comment, considering how to answer. For his people, there was no such term, no stigma attached to the ability to take on an animal spirit. If anything, being chosen and accepting the spirit was something special. Beautiful. Respected.

As he glanced at Jessica, he saw confusion but, surprisingly, not revulsion. He didn’t know why, but it gave him some hope that she might be different. Able to understand. So he explained how the people of his tribe summoned their animal guides and bonded with them. How they had a ritual for completing the union of man and beast.

“So you use this frog poison—”

“It creates a fever that prepares us for our journey,” he clarified. “The fever burns away our fears and opens our senses to the jungle spirits.”

“And you chose to have this happen?” she asked.

“My mother belonged to the jaguar clan. As her only son, it was my choice to follow in her footsteps or remain fully human as I was. As my father was.”

A deep furrow marked the space between her brows as Jessica concentrated. “Could your father have become like you? Would a bite—”

“As I said before, a bite may infuse you with the spirit, but if you are unwilling to embrace it, great misery can arise.” He shot a wary look in her direction.

“And going from jaguar to man and back can help you heal?”

“The transformation causes all kinds of changes, and during those changes, some healing can occur.”

She swept her gaze up and down his body once again, before motioning outside. “I should go help Antonio.”

He laid a hand on her arm. “Antonio can take care of himself. He will warn us if danger approaches.”

Jessica brought her hands to her thighs and rubbed the denim there in a nervous gesture as she considered his words.

“Is Antonio like you?”

He answered without hesitation. “Yes, although he has a different animal spirit.”

She thought of the palm headbands she had seen the night before. Javier wore one for the jaguar clan, different from the one his uncle had worn. Different from that of the others in the tribe, which made her pause and ask, “Is everyone in the tribe—”

“Not all, but many,” he said, and quickly motioned to the small bit of sleeping bag beside him. “Lie down. Get some rest.”

As if I could get any rest at his side, she thought, but did as he asked, sensing that arguing would accomplish nothing. She lay down facing him, her head pillowed on her arm. In the dim light, Javier’s skin seemed more golden, and in her mind’s eye came the reminder of the lush golden fur with the dark, nearly black rosettes that had covered his body earlier.

The scientist in her continued to hold out that his transformation wasn’t possible. To prove it to herself, she laid her hand on the deep, thick pectoral muscle of his chest. His skin was warm and smooth. Human. The nipple beneath her hand hardened with her touch. A human reaction.

“I’m not some science experiment, Jessica,” he said, a muscle ticking along his jaw as he exerted control.

“I know, only…” She hesitated before she moved her hand to the biceps of his arm, where bright pink skin had replaced an earlier injury and a smaller bruise was already turning that yellowish color that hinted at healing. “Would you ever have told me what you are?”

“Would you have believed me?” he challenged. He reached up and smoothed a worry line from her brow. “Even now, you can’t quite believe. Maybe you can’t accept what I am.”

“Don’t judge me too quickly, Javier. But even if you had skipped the part about being a were-jaguar, why didn’t you warn me about what was going on with Armando?”

He chuckled harshly and pulled his hand away. “Would it have changed your mind, Little Miss Save the World?”

She couldn’t fail to miss the bitterness that laced the tones of his voice, and it occurred to her then. “Your parents died when Armando’s did. When that illness—”

“It took several people from the tribe. My mother and Armando’s parents. Armando blames my family and the tribe for his loss,” he said with a sigh.

“Your father?” she pressed.

“Blamed himself for all the deaths. He died a few months later. Some might say of a broken heart.” The harsh laugh that followed belied his belief in such romantic notions.

She shifted closer so she might reach him more easily. She laid her hand above his heart. A strong human beat greeted her palm, reminding her that whatever else he might be, he was also a man. A man who had on some level lied to her, and yet a man who intrigued her and who had saved her life.

“You should have told me,” she repeated, although in her heart, she knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. She still would have come to the jungle. Had to come. Because of Victor. Because of her sister. Because of Javier’s mother and Armando’s parents and so many others like them who could be saved with the right medicines.

She was pulling her hand away when he stayed the motion by laying his hand over hers. As their gazes met, she realized he needed that touch, and she needed it as well.

 

At dawn, Jessica woke flushed and warm, recalling the heat of his body when she had drifted closer to him sometime during the night. His contented rumble, like the purr of a well-satisfied cat, had finally lulled her to sleep, driving away the sounds and sights of the fight and his transformation.

She passed her hand over the spot where he had lain beside her. Still warm from his body.

He hasn’t been gone long, she thought, and roused herself, knowing they couldn’t linger in this clearing much longer. She had to collect her specimens and then head back to civilization for her presentation to the board.

She also knew it was time to leave because there was too much of a threat here. Armando could kill her, much as he had Victor. Javier could try to protect her, but for how long?

Armando was bigger and stronger, but Javier had heart. Courage. Things that couldn’t be ignored in a fight. Things that called to her in a way that endangered her as well, for they touched her heart. That hadn’t happened in a long time. Maybe never, she acknowledged.

Since her sister’s death, Jessica had shut down her emotions, determined not to feel loss again. She convinced herself that she needed to find a way to help others avoid the kind of pain she had experienced. That driving need had kept her from developing any lasting relationships with the men in her life, even Victor.

Victor had come to understand that he was just a companion during their many trips together. That he could never touch the heart she had walled off from the world.

But what she was beginning to feel for Javier had opened a crack in that wall and made her feel vulnerable for the first time in years. She couldn’t permit that. As soon as he was healed, she would demand that he guide her back to civilization. Her life was safer there, in so many ways.

 

When Jessica climbed out of the tent, she searched the clearing for Javier.

But he was gone.

Keen-eyed, Antonio noticed her interest and said, “He needed to change back to finish the healing. He’ll meet us at the village.”

Knowing they would leave the clearing soon, Jessica collected a few dozen additional plant specimens and prepared for the trek back to the village.

Antonio had boiled some water, which he had mixed with some native berries and herbs, explaining that it would give her energy for the return trip.

As they finished packing, she glanced at Antonio and recalled Javier’s words of the night before—that Antonio was like him.

She faced the old man, examining him carefully, and as he caught wind of her interest, he smiled.

“You wish to see what I am.”

When she nodded, he said, “Watch, and follow me back to my people.”

Antonio’s transformation sped by in a blur, faster than Javier’s. Where a moment before there had been copper-colored skin lined with age, there were now beautiful beige and brown feathers, as Antonio spread his arms out and they became wings. The snap and crackle of bone seemed less severe, lighter, like the hollow bones of a bird. Before her eyes, Antonio’s flat, broad nose lengthened and hardened into the razor-sharp beak of a hawk.

A magnificent hawk, she thought. Antonio was regal and resplendent as he soared into the air above her, wings flapping and talons ready to pierce unsuspecting prey. With a quick spurt of power, he circled above her before moving forward into the rain forest canopy and along the trail they had taken the day before.

“Follow me,” Antonio had said that day, and she did, while keeping one eye on him above her and the other on the trail. As she walked, Jessica got the sense that she wasn’t alone, that in addition to Antonio sweeping the sky above her, Javier was also nearby, watching over them in his animal form. It brought Jessica a sense of comfort and contentment, but she quickly squelched the thought. Such emotions were too risky to the life she had built for herself—a nomadic life with no attachments.

Before reaching the village, Antonio swooped down from the skies and morphed back to his human form. The mind-boggling transformation reminded her that the authorities would never believe her if she told them about Victor’s death and Armando’s transformation into the black jaguar.

She was powerless. As powerless as she had been at her sister’s bedside and it angered her.

Much as she had sworn to make a difference then, she would find a way to make a difference now. She just needed to decide how to do that without compromising the tribe or her standing in the scientific community. She doubted her colleagues would believe wild tales about people who could transform themselves into animals.

Since a long, hot shower always helped her think, Jessica decided to save her packing for later and take a break in the heat of the day to wash up, although the best she would get would be a bracing rainwater shower outside her hut.

A fter undressing quickly, she stepped from her hut into the small alcove connecting it to the outdoor shower. She tossed her towel over the top of the wooden partition, but as she stood there naked, she caught sight of the jaguar nestled in the tree above.

Javier, she knew instinctively.

His powerful cat body was slung along the length of a thick branch, one paw dangling downward lazily. His gold-green gaze fixed on her body, causing an immediate and unwanted reaction.

Her nipples tightened, and a quick pulse beat between her legs.

She stepped into the stall and released the first quick blast of rainwater. It rushed down over her body, raising goosebumps with its slight chill and quickening her nipples into even tighter peaks.

Raising her hand, she touched one breast, strumming her thumb across the turgid tip. From above her, she heard a low, throaty rumble. As she looked up, she realized the jaguar had slunk closer on the branch for a better view.

She intended to give it to him, a payback of sorts for his voyeurism and his secrets. She wanted to punish him for the attraction that drew them together, even though she knew it would bring nothing but complications to both their lives.

With her free hand, she cupped her other breast. Slick, soapy skin slipped beneath her fingers. Her nipple had peaked from the chill of the water and was incredibly sensitive as she caressed herself, her gaze trained on the cat above her the whole time.

The jaguar inched ever forward, its balance more precarious the closer it got to the weaker end of the branch.

Between her legs, Jessica felt the thrum of need. She moved one hand down and eased it between her legs. As she found the nub hidden in the dark curls and played with it, a rough gasp escaped her.

At the sound, the jaguar grumbled in response and slinked just an inch closer—but an inch too far. The branch bent downward, unsettling the cat, who fell to the ground with a growl of complaint and a loud thud.

Jessica chuckled but then closed her eyes and tried to satisfy the need that had grown within her.

A second later, however, the door to the shower flew open. Javier stood there naked, erect, and hungry. All traces of the jaguar were gone as he closed the door behind him. His human body was still bruised in spots, but he seemed to be healing from most of his other injuries.

As her gaze met his, she knew what he wanted. She could smell the animal need and musk of his arousal pouring off his skin.

She wouldn’t deny him or herself. The physical attraction had been there from the start, and it was time to satisfy that need, no matter what the consequences.

Javier cupped her breast even as she moved her hand from between her legs. His shaft was wet, making his skin slick beneath the palm of her hand as she shifted it up and down the length of him.

A rough rumble came from his body as she stroked him, matching the sharp mewl of pleasure from her own throat as his strong fingers rotated her nipple into an ever tighter bud.

He stepped closer, and the tips of her breasts brushed the rock-hard wall of his chest. His skin was smooth and hot to the touch. Surprisingly so. With a little wiggle of her body, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, loving the feel of his skin and the hard muscle against the sensitive tips of her breasts.

Then she caressed his pectoral muscles with her free hand. She palmed the thick, well-defined muscles and swept her thumb across his dark brown nipple.

Another pleased kind of purr came from him, and she said, “This is crazy.”

“Definitely louco,” he said, and mimicked her actions, stroking the tight peak of her breast with his thumb, his caress sure and enticing.

Before he could say or do anything else, Jessica gave in to her desire. She bent her head and covered his nipple with her mouth. His skin was salty and firm beneath her lips. He groaned and cradled her head to him.

Somehow he managed to say, “Is this how you say thanks for saving your life?”

She chuckled and gently teethed the tight nub before meeting his gaze again. “I think we both know this is about more than thanks.”

With a feral smile, Javier trailed his free hand down her body and between her legs. He unerringly found the center of her. She watched as he stroked her with his strong, capable hand and pressed his fingers against the swollen nub. Then he eased first one finger and then a second into her, drawing a rough moan out of her.

Tightening the grasp of her hand, she caressed his erection, stroking his length before running her hand over the head. As her knees weakened from his practiced caresses, she braced her other hand on his shoulder for support.

The pressure inside her built, and in her hand she could feel the growing strain and strength of his arousal, too. They were both breathing heavily, their bodies shaking, when he leaned forward and whispered, “I want to be inside you.”

She wanted that, too, and as she braced both hands on his strong shoulders, he bent, slipped between her thighs, and positioned himself at her center. Slowly he entered her, his thickness and length stretching her to the point of both pleasure and pain. As he straightened to his full height, he cupped her buttocks and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, deepening his penetration.

The feel of him filling her dragged another rough gasp from her.

He stilled for a moment, as if to savor the wonder of their joining, but then he slowly flexed his hips, drawing in and out of her. His thrusts grew more determined as their passion rose.

Jessica’s climax gathered at her core as he plunged deep inside her more roughly than before. She met his gaze, watching as he looked at her breasts swaying with the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

She wanted his mouth on them and murmured her plea.

Javier held her tight with one arm, then reached up and released a torrent of water over their bodies, removing the last remnants of the soap. He quickly brought his mouth down and sucked on her breasts, teething and licking them both, until the tight knot of need within her exploded, releasing her climax through her body.

As she called out his name and cradled his head to her, Javier’s muscles trembled beneath her hands. Jessica knew he could feel the pull and throb of her release deep within.

She kissed him gently and whispered, “Come with me, querido,” and he did, his big body shuddering a moment before he let himself go inside her.

“Meu amor,” he said, and took her mouth in a rough kiss, cupping her head to him until she was nearly breathless, his mouth moving on hers over and over, as if he wanted to eat her alive.

With their bodies still joined, he somehow managed to walk them back into her hut. At the edge of the bed, he bent and gently laid her down. She gazed up at him. His gold-green cat eyes blazed with desire.

“Javier,” she whispered, half in question, but then she sensed the awakening of his erection again between her legs. She felt the thickness of him pressing deeper inside her and her own answering dampness surrounding him.

As he cradled her breasts, teasing the hard tips with his fingers, Javier roused her passion once more.

Jessica closed her eyes and gave herself over to the animal inside her. The one that wanted satisfaction no matter the consequences.

As yet another soul-shaking release built within her, she sensed that the price to be paid for such fulfillment would be costly.

 

It had to be the strength of his animal spirit that gave him such powers of recuperation.

Jessica barely had the power to roll onto her back, but Javier had gone outside to get some food and drink and returned. Now they lay cozily in bed, her back propped up against his chest as she sat between his legs. She fed him from the plate of fruits he had brought.

She broke off a piece of banana, and he leaned forward, biting it carefully from her hand. She took a piece for herself and ate it slowly. After, she sipped from a glass filled with fruit juice and handed it to him. As a little buzz awakened her, she realized it had guarana in it again but no alcohol.

Rich, ripe slices of mango were next, but as Javier accepted the last piece from her, he snared her hand and proceeded to lick the juices off her fingers, his tongue rough as he slowly sucked one finger and then another into his mouth.

“Javier,” she protested, even as she was putting aside the food and turning to face him. Her legs straddled his thighs, and his erection—thick, long, and hard—pressed against the soft flatness of her belly.

He ignored her slight complaint, laid his hands on her waist, and gently urged her upward, so that he could lick the peaks of her breasts. As he did so, his erection slipped between her legs, and Jessica guided him to the center of her.

Slowly, she sank down, holding her breath as his thickness filled her. The pull of his mouth and the rough salve of his tongue awakened an almost animal need in her to take him.

She shifted her hips, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, helped her set a rhythm, dragging them slowly toward a climax.

Her gaze locked with his—those amazing gold-green eyes. Cat eyes, she now realized, and yet it brought no fear, nor did the low rumble and purr that came from him as they moved ever closer to satisfaction.

He thrust upward, dragging a ragged gasp from her, and the quickening surged through her body. Brushing aside the spill of her hair from the side of her face, he laid his cheek against hers and in low tones said, “Free yourself, Jess. Don’t be afraid of the wildness inside you.”

With his words, her release broke past the dam she had erected. She called out his name, and her body trembled in his arms.

Against his erection, the heat and wetness of her surrounded Javier. The tightening and rolling of muscle caressed him, urging him to join her.

It had been so long since he had allowed himself any pleasure. Since he had permitted the human side of him to seek release. To enjoy the pleasure of communion with a kindred spirit.

He realized it then, that he and Jessica shared a great deal in common. She was strong enough to handle all that he was.

The joy of that filled him, and he let go of his own restraint and embraced the climax that rushed over his body, bringing release.

 

They were lying face to face, still touching, hours later. They exchanged slow, languid caresses, but Jessica was beginning to feel disoriented. Disconnected from her everyday life. Distracted by a sense of…rightness.

This is so wrong, she thought. The comfort and sense of well-being she felt in his arms meant trouble because she knew their involvement could be nothing but a passing interlude. She couldn’t let her fascination with Javier deter her from her promise to her sister or from seeking justice for Victor.

Javier immediately sensed her disquiet.

“What bothers you so? Armando?”

She chuckled harshly. Armando could kill her, but Javier was much more dangerous to her well-being. “No, not Armando. You.”

“Why?” he asked, even as he cupped her breast and lazily stroked his thumb across the tip of it.

“Javier, por favor. Stop,” she said, and he did as she asked, but he clearly wasn’t done with the conversation.

“My people believe that while you may mate with many during your lifetime, only one is truly your soul mate.”

Jessica looked away. If she believed in things like that, she might have grudgingly admitted that how she felt in his arms, by his side, could develop into something more. But there was no room in her life for a man, so she knew it would be simpler to push him away despite their incredible chemistry. She couldn’t detour from what was important in her life for such uncertain feelings.

“I’m not sure this can ever be more. I have to be at a stockholders meeting at the start of next week. I have to go home, Javier. I’ve got obligations there.”

He stiffened beside her, and as she looked up, she realized from the tight slash of his lips that he was angry.

“Home?” he questioned sharply. “I’ve seen your bio, Jessica. It seems to me there is nowhere you truly call home.”

The moment shattered, she decided to retreat. Leaving the bed, she grabbed some clothes from a chair and slipped them on. Javier watched her dress, his angry gaze raking over her newly clothed body.

Even now, the thrum of desire called to her. Clenching her hands to keep from touching him again, she said, “I need to go back, because people need me and depend on me.”

“Your company and its rich stockholders?”

“It’s way more than that, and you know it. I have to try to figure out what to do about the plant. About Victor’s murder.”

“What will you tell the authorities? That a were-jaguar ate your friend?” His words were bitter and laced with disdain.

“I need to stop Armando,” she said, as she grabbed her bags from the floor and tossed them on the bed beside him.

He vaulted from the bed and came to her side, fists clenched at his side. “Do you think it will be so easy to stop Armando?”

She shrugged. “There’s got to be a way to get justice for Victor. Maybe if I can shut down the logging—”

“By showing them some special little plants? Do you think that will do it?”

Jessica didn’t know how to answer him at first, but then she thought about Victor and her sister. About death that came before its rightful time. She knew then that she couldn’t just let Armando continue with his revenge, because his actions wouldn’t just hurt the tribe—they might hurt countless others who could possibly be helped by the plant.

“If flower power is all I have to fight with, then that’s what I’ll use. Seems to me the fang-to-fang fight hasn’t accomplished much except getting Victor killed.” With that, she grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into her bag.

Javier cupped her cheek and forced her to face him. “If I promise that Armando will receive his punishment—”

“Even if you did, I can’t stay here.”

Some of his anger faded, and with hands held out, almost pleading, he said, “Because of what I am?”

Jessica considered him. All that strength and beauty in front of her, basically asking to be hers. But Javier had been too right with his earlier statement about her not being able to call anywhere home.

Walking up to him, she cradled his cheek and said, “No, Javier. Because of me. I’ve chosen a path in my life—”

“A path to fame and glory.”

Anger surged at his words and got the better of her. Jessica slapped him across the face, the impact so hard it left the imprint of her hand on his cheek. “You know nothing about what drives me!”

“Tell me it isn’t what drives most of the outsiders who come here. Tell me it isn’t about greed or conquest—”

She cut him off with a brusque slash of her hand. “I lost my sister when she was only twenty. It was a weird infection the doctors couldn’t control. She died, Javier, and I vowed I would spend my life making sure that nobody else would have to go through such pain and suffering again.”

“So you run from place to place, searching for miracles?” he asked. His tone had changed. He tenderly caressed her cheek, his gentle touch making her feel guilty about slapping him.

“It’s what I need to do. I can’t let the same thing happen to someone else. I promised.”

A resigned sigh slipped from his body. “Don’t let the dead steal your life, Jessica.”

“I have no other choice, Javier.”

Tension crept into his features, and he pulled his hand away from her face. “You always have a choice, Jessica, but you’ve already made this one. It’s best you go back to civilization now. The bullet you shot Armando with was silver and laced with silver nitrate. It should have weakened him enough that he might lie low today and give us time to get you out of here safely.”

“But won’t we be on the river at night?”

“Not for long. By then, we’ll be close enough to town that it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll let my tio know that you’re leaving.”

He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and stalked out of her hut.

She watched him depart. With him gone, the room felt empty. She wouldn’t admit that a part of her felt empty as well.

But nothing could deter her from what she knew was right. From what she had to do.

Not even the words he had uttered during their argument.

Don’t let the dead steal your life.

I t didn’t take Jessica long to pack up the rest of her belongings, since she hadn’t packed all that much to begin with. The things she took the most care with were the specimen plants she had collected earlier that morning. She had the necessary permits for removing them from the country and hoped that once she got the plants back to Jersey, she might be able to propagate more of them.

The tribe members gathered by the dock to wish her good-bye alongside the tribal elders. She smiled at all the people, shook hands with some, and heartily embraced Javier’s uncle, the last person by the edge of the dock.

“Doutora Morales. Are you sure about what you’re doing?” Antonio asked, concern etching deep grooves of worry into the lines of his face.

“There are things I must do at home, and I need to see what will be done about Armando,” she said as she held his hand, cradling it warmly in hers.

Antonio shot a quick look at his nephew, who waited by the boat, arms folded across his chest. Javier looked angry but resolute. He probably won’t even miss me, she decided.

“I’m sorry, Antonio, but it’s best that I go now. Thank you for showing me the plant and for making me feel so welcome.”

“You will come back to us,” he said knowingly.

She embraced him again and then climbed onto the boat. As Javier jumped onboard, a number of men from the tribe surged forward to release the moorings. Then Javier gunned the engines, and the boat surged forward. He kept to the closest shore instead of cutting across the broad width of the river, and Jessica watched the underbrush and canopy for signs of anything unusual, but nothing caught her eye. An hour passed quietly, then another. Jessica began to grow tired of the silence.

She risked a glance at Javier, at the features that had become so familiar and dangerously enticing in too short a time.

“When we reach the city—”

His hands tightened on the wheel of the boat. “I’ll make sure you’re safe until you get on the plane.”

Anger rose up swiftly. “I don’t need you—”

“To keep you safe. Eu sei, meu amor.”

“Then why patronize me?” she accused.

“Because I thought you might want to spend some final time together. That it might help you decide whether you want to come back to this place,” he said, and swept one arm outward to the majesty of all that surrounded them. “It could provide you with much that you seek.”

In his words was the unspoken plea that he somehow might be part of what she sought. It moved her more than she wanted to admit. She couldn’t quite remember why she was in such a hurry to return to New Jersey.

Rising, she stood before him and cradled the strong line of his jaw, brushed her thumb across the fullness of his lips.

The strong thrum of a powerful engine interrupted them.

Jessica moved from his side and to the back of the boat to investigate. A large speedboat was well behind them but gaining ground rapidly. It kicked up quite a wake, a testament to how swiftly it sped through the waters.

Too quickly, she realized, and as the boat drew nearer, she thought she detected a familiar face beside the man at the helm.

“Is that—”

“Armando,” Javier said, and he reached for a pair of binoculars beside the steering wheel. He raised them and looked back at the boat. A muffled curse escaped him as he handed her the binoculars. He manipulated the engine controls, slowly increasing the speed of their boat.

Jessica peered through the binoculars. Armando stood beside the driver of the boat, looking relatively unscathed from his earlier encounter with Javier, although she thought she detected something bulky beneath the shirt he wore. A bandage, maybe? she wondered.

She shifted to Javier’s side, but the tension in his body confirmed to her what she had already suspected: they couldn’t outrun the more powerful vessel. With each passing minute, the speedboat was gaining on them, making it possible for her to see that beside Armando were two other men armed with rifles. As the distance between the boats closed, one of the men picked up his weapon and opened fire.

The ping and crack of bullets striking the back of Javier’s boat signaled that time was running out.

“Do you have a rifle?” Jessica asked, searching the confines of the boat for anything they could use as a weapon.

“Shotgun in the storage bin to your right, but that’s only good at close range.” As the bullets struck closer, tearing through the canopy over them, Javier looked back at the boat chasing them. “We can’t afford that kind of close range.”

A bullet whizzed by her head and slammed into the wood of the boat’s cockpit. She crouched down behind the protective cover of the seat next to the captain’s chair.

“What can we do?”

Javier crouched down as well, as more gunfire erupted. He pushed the engine ever faster, and the boat picked up a little speed, but with a shuddering complaint that said it couldn’t go for long at such a pace. It was intended for leisurely travel, not flight.

Javier jerked his head toward the closest bank. “Just ahead, there’s a tributary. It’s shallower than the main river, but shortly past the entrance is a series of fairly wicked rapids.”

“Will they be able to follow?” she asked, glancing nervously at the larger speedboat as the gap between the two vessels narrowed with each passing second.

“No. The draft on their boat’s too large, but even with our flat bottom, we might not might make it past the first few sets of rapids.”

Even as he said it, he steered them toward the edge of the river, and when she peered past the bow of the boat, she could see that they were almost at the entrance to the offshoot he had mentioned.

“We don’t have a choice,” she said, and Javier nodded.

“Get ready to hang on.”

With a lurch, he steered the boat into the narrower and shallower tributary.

Gunfire peppered the side of Javier’s boat, but it stopped as they swiftly advanced into the rapidly moving waters of the side stream. The distance between the two boats widened considerably. As Jessica rose and looked back, she realized that the other boat had stopped at the mouth of the offshoot.

Armando was beside the captain, gesticulating roughly with those thick-muscled arms. He clearly wanted the other man to continue, but he wouldn’t.

When she turned back around and stared ahead, she realized why.

The waters before them had turned into a roiling and churning mess, marked by large boulders and deep dips.

Javier cut their speed, but the boat still rushed forward, propelled by the current. When she met his gaze, he said, “Hold on, Jessica.”

She wedged herself between the side of the boat and the chair. She looked for a life vest but couldn’t see one, so she grabbed the rail along one wall and wrapped an arm around the chair as the nose of the boat dipped. They entered the turbulent waters.

 

Beside her, Javier braced himself but kept to the wheel and engine controls, trying to keep their course steady and safe.

The boat bucked and lurched violently, slamming her from side to side, but she kept her hands tight on the railing and the chair, fingers turning numb from the pressure she exerted to hang on.

Water crashed up and over the low sides of the boat, drenching them as they struggled against the violence of the current.

Javier fought the buck of the wheel, trying to steer the boat through the deepest and safest of the channels along the rapids. His arms strained as time and time again, the force of the waters nearly ripped the wheel from his hands.

Daring a glance at Jessica, he saw the determination in her gaze as she braced herself for yet another jolt.

And then it happened.

For just a second, the wheel eluded his grasp. The bow lurched without that second of control and grazed a large boulder to the right, flinging them violently to the left. The stern of the boat swung around sharply, catching them cross-current for a moment before they went sliding into the next rapid facing backward.

The bow of the boat swung up precariously, unseating both of them and sending them rolling to the back of the boat. The force of the current began to sink the boat.

The waters rose up over them.

Javier reached out for Jessica and managed to grab hold of her arm as the force of the current pulled them one way and the boat another.

He had a tenuous grip on her arm and tried to drag her toward him, even as the pull of the water threatened to suck them apart. He managed to push up to the surface for a moment so they could both breathe, but then he slammed into a boulder.

The strength of the impact knocked the breath from his body, but he never released his hold on her. With his were-strength, he might be able to survive the beating the rapids would inflict, but not Jessica. He had to protect her.

As the waters rolled them downward, he fought for a better grasp on Jessica, but when they flew over one cascade and he landed heavily against a jagged trio of rocks, the air was driven from his lungs, and Jessica was ripped from him by the strength of the current.

Javier managed to get upright in the roiling waters, clinging to the rocks long enough to see their boat, or what was left of it, being trashed against the various boulders and hidden rocks farther down the rapids. Jessica’s head popped above the surface, and he watched as she slammed into a boulder and disappeared in the foamy water.

Javier dove toward her, pain lancing through his back as he tried to reach her. He tried to protect himself as time and time again, the current dashed him against the rocks, pummeling his body until all he could feel was the pain.

He tried not to think about how many times his body hit one of the boulders along the rapids. Instead, he concentrated on keeping to the least damaging course through the rocks and on finding Jessica in the midst of the watery turmoil.

When the waters finally deposited him in the calmer river beyond the rapids, Javier took a moment to collect himself, but then he immediately began his search.

Swimming to the shallower waters, he called out her name over and over, fighting desperation at the silence that answered him. He paddled back and forth, but saw no sign of her. He screamed out her name again one last time.

No answer came as Javier surged toward the river bank. He rushed and stumbled through the waters until he spied what was left of the boat, bobbing along on its side toward his edge of the bank. He crawled up onto the muddy bank for a better view.

Every movement brought agony from the assorted cuts and bruises caused by his wild ride. A deeper, knifelike pain in his side hinted at greater damage, but he forced it back, certain that a quick change into the jaguar would take care of his injuries.

Unlike Jessica, he thought. A different kind of agony created a sharp pain in the middle of his chest.

What was she wearing? he asked himself, and the answer came quickly.

A hot pink tank top.

He called out her name again and stepped back into the waters for a closer look. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of something just below the surface. He swam toward it. As he neared, the hot pink became a beacon.

Jessica floated facedown in the water. Totally motionless.

Fear gripped Javier’s insides as he swam to her. He rolled her onto her back and then pulled her to the bank, his side protesting the strain of carrying her with each stroke.

Once he had her on shore, Javier immediately began CPR, since she wasn’t breathing. Long, agonizing moments passed as he applied pressure on her chest and gave her mouth-to-mouth.

Finally, her body twitched beneath his hands.

He turned her onto her side as she coughed up river water, but it was tinged with pink. A second round of coughing brought yet more blood.

Her breathing was shallow. A sickening gurgle followed each breath. He suspected a punctured lung. If the waters of the river hadn’t drowned her, the blood seeping into her lung would.

Blood also trickled from one of her ears.

A concussion?

With gentle fingers, Javier probed the back of her skull and realized it was worse: a skull fracture.

He slipped his fingers over her wrist. A thready and almost nonexistent pulse beat against his fingers.

Cradling her in his arms, he allowed his animal spirit to sense her life force, but it only confirmed what he had already suspected.

Jessica is dying.

Cold rage and pain filled him. Guilt followed quickly.

This isn’t right, he thought. She didn’t deserve to die because of him. Because of Armando and his crazy vendetta.

Only one thing might possibly save her, but could he live with the aftermath of that choice?

With only a moment’s consideration, Javier decided that it would be easier to deal with her hatred than with her death.

Gently, he lowered her to the ground and stripped off her clothes. As he did so, he called forth his animal spirit, summoning the jaguar. Thick, lush fur sprouted, each strand piercing his human skin until it covered his entire form.

He dropped to his knees and roared out in pain as bone and muscle shifted, rearranging themselves until the jaguar emerged.

He bent his head and nuzzled the side of her face. He licked her cheek with his cat-rough tongue, but she didn’t move. Didn’t rouse. With a nudge of his massive head, he turned her head to the side, exposing the fragile line of her neck and shoulder.

He took her shoulder gently in his jaws, and as tenderly as he could, he bit down, urging his spirit to flow from his body to hers. The taste of her blood was rich against his fangs and mouth.

Beneath the gentle clasp of his jaws, he sensed her life spirit awakening as his bite called for her to respond.

 

Searing pain dragged Jessica from numbness to reality.

She moaned and tried to lift her hand, but she was too weak. She could feel the cold in her extremities and the heat pooling in the center of her, trying to preserve life.

She knew all the signs of imminent death.

But as the agony in her shoulder dragged her to full awareness, warmth began at that spot and raced outward to her extremities, driving away death.

In her brain came a rough rumble and the pull of something elemental. A command to join with it. With him.

A shiver along her nerve endings grew into a rough shudder.

She opened her eyes and caught sight of the jaguar latched onto her shoulder a second before the animal gently released her.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. In her head, she heard the rumble again and the insistent demand that she join the cat by her side.

As she turned onto her side, the urge to crawl pulled at her, and then something slammed into her, as powerful as a sledgehammer.

Breathing heavily, she fought a losing battle for control as her muscles trembled, ever more violently as each second passed. A snap, loud like a brittle branch, sounded in the quiet along the riverbank. Then there came another snap, accompanied by pain so strong she moaned, only it wasn’t a human sound that escaped her.

Her low roar filled the air as the bones in her body shifted and muscles rearranged themselves. As the violence of her transformation slowly eased, she hesitantly rose to her feet. She struggled to remain on all fours, feeling better than before but still weak and disoriented.

The jaguar who had bitten her came to her side and, with a gentle nudge, urged her away from the water’s edge and toward a small pad of moss and lush ferns beneath the canopy of the trees. She walked there drunkenly, aware of her condition and yet still in disbelief. She dropped onto the ground.

Scattered fragments of thought came to her. Recollections of Javier mentioning that the change could help heal wounds.

He bit me to save my life.

That thought brought no relief though, only confusion and anger. As she shut her cat’s eyes, he settled himself close to her. His warmth drove away the chill of the river waters. His hesitant lick against her face seemed to beg for understanding.

But she didn’t know if she could ever forgive him.

A low rumble came from him, and she thought it sounded like “I’m sorry.”

But she lacked the strength to respond.

She gave herself up to unconsciousness, her body and heart drained by the day’s events.

J avier stayed by Jessica’s side until the spirit left and her body morphed back to human. She was in better shape than when the transformation had begun but not completely healed. As he examined her naked body, the bruises snagged his attention—large angry smudges of deep purple along her ribs and back. He ran his hands over her and smiled when he realized that anything broken seemed back in the right place and on the way to healing.

She woke as he tended to her and said just one word. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t lose you,” he admitted.

Her body was an assortment of aches and pains, but that didn’t stop her from rising onto her elbows to face him. “You had no right to make that decision.”

“You would have died.”

Something primal awakened within her. Something feral had her lunging at him, swinging her fists at his head until he grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the soft bed of moss.

A warning growl erupted from him, and she quieted, the animal in her recognizing his dominance.

“You had no right,” she repeated, a low rumble in her own voice as heat built deep in her center.

Beneath him, she quieted, and Javier sensed her confusion and acquiescence. “The warmth you feel is the animal spirit growing within you. Healing you. Rest.”

She said nothing else and closed her eyes, but he lost any hope that he might have had about her returning to him. She could never forgive what he had done to her, even if it had been the only thing he could do to save her.

As the long hours passed, he collected what he could salvage from the boat. Some food and Jessica’s bags. The shotgun loaded with regular pellets, which he replaced with the silver buckshot.

Returning to her side, he started a small fire, placed the gun within her reach, and removed some of her clothes from one of the bags. He draped them along some low-lying branches to dry.

He moved away from the makeshift campsite and went in search of deadfall so that he could heat some water for a quick meal. He was several yards away from her when he heard the nearby rustle of the underbrush, and the hackles on the back of his neck rose.

Armando stepped from the underbrush, alone and naked. A bright white bandage marked one shoulder, and Javier wondered if beneath the gauze his wound had already healed. If it had, he had seriously underestimated the strength of Armando’s spirit.

“Time to die, Javier,” the other man said, a broad grin visible even in the dim light of dusk.

Javier had no doubt he meant it. Their feud had been brewing for a long time. Maybe even since before the deaths of their parents. As much as he hated the thought, Javier knew that the death of one of them was the only way there would ever be peace.

“Let’s have at it, then,” Javier called out, and he dropped to all fours. He summoned the jaguar and let it consume him body and soul.

Armando did the same, and with a surge, they bounded toward each other, intent on a fight to the death.

Javier engaged Armando head-on, nearly up on his hind legs as they pawed at each other. Claws slashed and struck, catching an arm here and a side there as they flew at each other time and time again. Javier danced away like a prize fighter, knowing that Armando’s greater size and strength would kill him if he got the upper hand.

Armando, mad with anger and blood lust, kept on coming at Javier until the attacks were wild and unthinking.

Javier knew the moment would come soon when Armando would tire and drop his guard.

At last, Armando exposed one shoulder. Javier erupted past his poor defense and sank his fangs deep into the thick muscle of Armando’s shoulder.

The black jaguar howled and clawed at him in protest, raking his claws deep into Javier’s sides and back. But Javier didn’t release his hold on the other cat. Pooling all his strength, he fought Armando to the ground, ignoring the pain as the other cat continued to tear into him.

He held on. He tossed his head and felt muscle and bone crunch beneath his massive jaws. He began to weaken from the loss of blood from his injuries, but he sensed Armando weakening also as blood poured from the deep wound in his shoulder.

Javier relaxed his hold for just a moment, and Armando took advantage, reversing their positions until Javier was on the ground.

With a twist of his massive head, Javier ripped out a large chunk of Armando’s flesh. Blood spurted viciously from the wound, splattering across his body as Armando fell back, grievously injured.

Javier had gotten an artery. That much was obvious as the blood continued to spurt unimpeded, bright red against the vibrant green of the moss along the river bank.

He moved away from Armando, waiting to see what would happen, trying to recover for a final attack, because he sensed that if Armando knew he was dying, he would try to take Javier with him.

As Javier expected, Armando rushed him one last time.

 

Heat swept across her body. Strange telltale heat reminding her she was something other than human now. Whatever that something else was smelled the blood, heard the snarled challenges laced with pain.

Jessica opened her eyes and turned toward the sound. Armando and Javier, locked in battle some distance away along the riverbank. To the death, if the amount of blood across the ground and the two cats was any indication.

Inside her, something twisted and warmed. The hairs on her arm began to thicken and lengthen, fur emerging to replace skin, but she fought it back, drove it deep inside as she sat up and her gaze settled on the shotgun Javier had left beside her.

She grabbed the gun and rose, her stance precarious as pain lanced through her ribs and a wave of weakness assaulted her. Much as she had driven back the jaguar struggling to emerge, she fought her injuries and moved toward the two animals.

She was furious with Javier, but she couldn’t let him die.

Picking up the shotgun, she trained it on Armando, waiting for an opening.

It came more quickly than she expected, as Javier pushed the other cat away and Armando flew backward, blood coating his glistening black fur. Before the cat could move toward Javier again, she opened fire, catching Armando full in the chest.

The black jaguar stumbled backward, then righted himself and turned to charge at her.

She fired again.

This time, Armando fell to the ground, the gaping holes torn into him by the shotgun blasts crimson against his ebony fur.

Jessica dropped the shotgun and wrapped her arms tight around her waist, as if that would help her keep a handle on herself.

A moment later, Javier was at her side. A human Javier, bearing the wounds of his fight with Armando. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered against her ear, “You did him a favor. He was as good as dead.”

She shot him a confused look, and he explained. “I had torn open his brachial artery before you fired. He would have bled to death shortly.”

His words should have brought some measure of comfort, but they didn’t. Maybe because she had wanted Armando dead. For Victor. For what she had become on his account.

As she gazed at Armando’s body, lifeless near the edge of the riverbank, she asked, “Will he stay like that? Like a cat?”

Javier stroked her arm, trying to calm her. “The silver pellets in the shotgun will prevent any transformation.”

“Even in death?”

“Even in death,” he confirmed.

With a nod, she said, “Then it’s over. Get me the hell out of here.”

J essica braced her arms on the metal railing of her balcony, staring down at the slow-moving river before her. The Raritan moved sluggishly through town and toward the Atlantic. Across the way, people were still in the park, even though it was almost dusk. Along the nearest riverbank, a crew team was pulling up to the boathouse dock, while another team walked the scull in for storage.

So much activity.

Too much.

It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since she and Javier had buried Armando’s body by the riverbank, thought it had really only been a few months.

Her anger had been too great then. She was furious at Armando for killing Victor and, in essence, destroying her. She hated Javier for biting her and for stirring up a mix of emotions she couldn’t seem to escape.

She hadn’t spoken a word to him during the entire trek back to the mouth of the tributary, where a passing boat had picked them up and returned them to the tribal reservation. She hadn’t said a word to him for the three days his uncle had tended to her wounds and explained what she now was: a were-jaguar like Javier.

The shaman had urged her to embrace her spirit by undergoing the tribal ritual for bonding with it, but she had refused, needing time and distance to think about all that had happened before making such a life-changing decision.

Despite denying Antonio’s request, the scientist in her had listened carefully when he described the ritual, storing away as many facts as she could, while the woman within had carefully contained her emotions, schooled the anger she felt at the violation of her body—her body, which felt foreign to her each time she transformed.

But you would be dead right now, the little voice in her head had whispered to her over and over during the last few months.

Dead and unable to help anyone, and yet…

She felt unable to help herself. Try as she might to ignore it, something animal lingered within her. Something that had driven her more often than she cared to admit into long treks deep into the mountains, where she would pitch a tent and, after night rose, release the animal spirit within her and savor the darkness.

In her jaguar form, she had even given chase to a deer early one morning before realizing that she had to return to her tent and let the human reassume control.

She was surprised that the ability to change could be dominated and contained, although the process itself still elicited intense pain during each side of the transformation. Even with that pain, the call of the jaguar was too great to resist at times.

If she was honest with herself, so was the pull of what she had experienced in Javier’s arms. In her quest to help others, Jessica had forgotten that sometimes you had to put yourself first.

In the months since she had last seen him, a sense of restlessness had sprung up inside her. Even the joy of propagating more plants and isolating the active ingredient from them had been diminished. With the active ingredient now in her pharmaceutical company’s pipeline for additional testing, her everyday work had almost become boring.

Something was lacking. Something vital.

Go to him, the voice whispered, and it was echoed by another voice—masculine but with an animal’s rumble: Come to me.

As she gazed down at the city below, she knew she would.

The anticipation within her—born of both human and animal desire—said there was still too much left unresolved in the Amazon.

She would return and try to put things right, find a way to balance her old human existence with the new realities of her life as a were-jaguar.

Javier’s words came back to her. This place could provide you with much that you seek.

The Amazon held a wealth of possible new medicines, with so many species and areas left to be discovered. She might be able to keep her promise to her sister and continue her career—not to mention find balance in her personal life—by turning her attention to the Amazon’s undiscovered bounty.

Jessica hoped that in the process of balancing all those things, she could somehow find a way to share her life with Javier.

 

She had been unable to reach Javier by phone. His private cell number went immediately to voicemail, and after leaving a dozen unreturned messages, she stopped calling.

The man who had answered Javier’s office number told her he worked for Javier’s tour company but that he didn’t know when his boss would be in town again. Apparently, Javier had been spending quite a bit of time at the reservation during the last few months.

She had arranged for the man to take her upriver, but not to the reservation. Apparently, he was forbidden from traveling there. “The boss’s instructions,” he explained apologetically.

She masked her anger and disappointment as she arrived at the dock and was greeted solely by Javier’s employee. Javier must still hate me for leaving him, she thought. The hope she’d had about sharing her life with him seemed to be quickly slipping away.

The man brought her upriver in a brand-new boat. “The boss’s brand-new boat,” he explained.

The hours on the water were long, and she was unable to enjoy the many sights the way she had during her first trip. The closer they got to the reservation, however, the more the spirit within her stirred, eager to be loose.

When they were near, she motioned to the man to beach the boat and grabbed her small knapsack. She had packed light, thinking there was little she would need once she reached the tribe.

If I get there, she thought as she slipped over the side of the boat and sloshed through the shallow waters until she was along the bank. She signaled the boatman that she was fine, and rather reluctantly, he pulled away, seemingly torn between displeasing his boss and leaving her alone in the wild.

She carefully eased through the underbrush until she was well within the embrace of the rain forest canopy. Once there, she undressed and tucked her clothes into her knapsack. Dropping onto all fours, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking the scents of the jungle deep within her.

She embraced the wild that had been calling to her for months.

Heat built within her, searing her, firing along her nerve endings as the transformation began.

A low rumble started as her skin warmed, and golden fur, spotted with nearly black rosettes, replaced the skin. An ache began in the center of her forehead, spreading across her face as it broadened into the flat planes of the cat. The pop and snap of bone and muscle swiftly followed, until the change was complete and the jaguar emerged.

Jessica inhaled, searching for the scent of something familiar, listening for the sound of humanity. From far away, she detected what she sought.

Grabbing the strap of the knapsack in her mouth, she loped ahead, her paws digging into the soft ground, kicking up divots as she picked up speed in her haste to be back at the reservation.

The scents grew stronger. The smells of cooking and humanity. The sounds of activity coming from the village.

She raced into a clearing, eager to arrive, and from above her came a loud, raucous screech. Thudding to an awkward stop, she looked upward.

A large hawk rode the air currents above her, circling around and around before it swooped down to land before her.

In a blink, feathers became skin, and Antonio stood before her, his golden gaze inquisitive as it settled on her.

“Jessica?”

She growled her answer, and Antonio smiled, held out his hand to her.

It was impossible to refuse the pull of his humanity. She summoned that part of her, morphing back to her human form.

Antonio smiled and said, “Welcome home, Jessica.”

She wasn’t quite sure she could call it home, but there was a sense of connection here that she had missed while she was in New Jersey.

“I’m glad that I’m welcome, Antonio,” she said, and reached for her knapsack.

He turned and looked away as she dressed, but then he slipped his arm through hers and guided her the last few yards to the village.

As they walked down the main trail, villagers came out of their huts, and by the time they reached the center, a happy group of tribespeople greeted her, welcoming her return.

But as she searched the crowd, she realized Javier was not among them. She shouldn’t have wondered at his absence, given his failure to return her phone calls and his instructions to his employees. Somehow, though, she had hoped he would be at the reservation.

Antonio walked her to the hut she had first inhabited so many months earlier. He must have sensed her disquiet. “You are sorry he is not here?”

She wasn’t sure sorry was the word. “Worried. He is well, isn’t he? Recovered from the fight with Armando?”

Antonio nodded and shot her a glance from the corner of his eye. “He is physically well.”

Carefully chosen words intended to deliver a carefully chosen message, she realized. As she stepped into the hut and tossed her bag onto the bed, Antonio came to stand beside her. He clasped his hands before him and asked, “Why have you returned, Jessica?”

“I feel the animal inside me. It’s unhappy,” she admitted.

“You speak of it as if it wasn’t a part of you, but it is,” he said, and motioned for her to sit.

She took a spot next to her bag and, with a shrug, said, “Will I ever feel that way?”

“That is up to you to decide. You can battle the spirit Javier gifted you with—”

“Some gift,” she mumbled under her breath, but Antonio plowed forward, undissuaded.

“Or you can ask it to accept you.”

Accept me? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? she thought.

After her hesitation, he asked, “Do you wish to do the ritual?”

She searched his peaceful face. It was the face of a man clearly in tune with himself and all around him. She wondered if Javier had found peace with her gone.

Antonio must have sensed her question, since he said, “He has been at war with himself since you left.”

At war with himself?

Maybe in the same way she had been tearing herself apart as she struggled to discover what she wanted. What would end the restlessness of her soul?

“Will the ritual bring peace?”

A glimmer of a smile crept into his features. “It will bring enlightenment. It is up to you to decide what to do with that knowledge.”