Savage Hunger

Chapter 5

The rain had stopped some hours earlier, but the drums had been pounding since then. Connor was certain the local natives were having one of their celebrations deep in the rain forest, but the beating made his head throb, as sick as he was with worry that Kat would die. She had come to the jungle, gotten lost, and contracted a fever —and none of that was his fault. But he couldn’t shake the concern that it would be his fault if she died on him. The immediacy of the situation—her being near death and under his care again—was like déjà vu.

He didn’t want to take her to the resort any longer. He wanted to take her back to the States where she could have competent care until she was well again. But transporting her there quickly wasn’t possible.

She watched him through blurry eyes set in a face that was very pale except for her red cheeks. But she wasn’t really watching. She was staring through him into a world of her own once more, semilucid and then confused and incoherent again.

“Kat?”

She hadn’t once spoken in coherent words since the fever had struck. Just moans and groans and a frustrated “no” when he had tried to keep her covered when she was too hot again after shivering with chills. Several times she had reached for something. What was she trying to get to? At times she seemed comforted by something and at other times, terrified.

Connor heard rustling at the table and glanced in that direction to see what Maya was doing. She was searching through Kat’s backpack.

“Anything in there that will tell us more about her?” he asked quietly.

Maya pulled out a passport. “She’s an Aquarius, born the first of February, and she’s four years younger than us. Hmm… Mom was an Aquarius, and she said that was why she was honest and loyal…”

“Not about staying with us,” Connor grumbled.

“And independent like Kat is, having come to the jungle alone. And she’s friendly, too.”

“The downside?” Not that Connor ever put much stock in Zodiac signs or their supposed meanings.

“Contrary, unpredictable, detached, unemotional. I think she’d fit right in with a couple of Aries like us.”

He grunted.

“Sure. You and I are both adventurous and impulsive, courageous and confident—she can’t help but be swept up in our enthusiasm for life.”

“Maya,” he warned, not wanting her to think they were taking the woman home with them like she was some kind of pet they could nurture and make their own.

“She was born in Merritt Island, Florida,” she said, ignoring him. “So she’s a Florida girl.”

The dark side of being an Aries, if any of it was true, was that Maya was definitely impulsive. A lot more so than he was, and he knew she was trying to get him to accept taking Kat into their family.

“The injuries she suffered on her Army mission here don’t seem to have caused any serious permanent damage,” he said, changing the subject to one that was more important.

“You said she was the only one who was still living when her people came to rescue her. You saved her life, Connor. She’s grateful.” Maya rummaged around some more in the pack. “There’s nothing else in here except survival stuff and more clothes and a credit card.” She zipped up the bag, then joined Connor at the bed where Kat was still tossing and turning.

Maya put her hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you hunt supper for us? I’ll spell you for a while.”

He didn’t want to leave Kat for a minute, worried she might slip into a coma and die. But another worry consumed him. What if his sister bit Kat, trying to turn her?

But he didn’t think she would. Not as sick as Kat was. Unless she thought that by turning her, Kat would get well more quickly.

He cast his sister a warning look. She regarded him as if she didn’t know what he was inferring, all innocence. Maybe she was totally innocent at the moment. Maybe deep down, he wanted Kat turned so she could be his.

He shook his head at the notion and left the hut, climbed down the stairs, removed his clothes, and tucked them on a shelf below the floor of the house on stilts, and then shifted. He ran as a jaguar, smelling the air, searching for dinner, and wishing he had some way to get Kat to a hospital and well again.

Had she caused Kat to be so sick? Maya had been beside herself with worry. And so had her brother. Connor had only left to catch fish for them or take down a tapir, or one time a caiman, and then she had prepared their meals. Otherwise, he had stayed by Kat’s side, trying to cool her down and keep her hydrated. He had barely let Maya take care of her.

Maya studied Kat’s bullet wounds, tracing the scarred tissue. She wondered if the jaguar healing genetics would heal the tissue, making it like new again, when she was able to turn Kat. Did the injuries ever trouble Kat? Maya hoped she could cure her of anything that might cause her difficulty. When Kat was better, Maya intended to ask her subtly about her injuries and what had happened when Connor had taken care of her.

Connor had tired of questioning Kat about her family, so Maya took up where he had left off. Maya’s questions were more important, though. “Where’s your family? Do you have a husband? Boyfriend? Fiancé?”

Kat shook her head no, moaned as if moving her head like that made it hurt, and then closed her eyes. Was that a no? No what? No husband, boyfriend, fiancé, or family?

Maya had been in such a panic to try and turn Kat quickly before Connor caught her that she hadn’t thought of the repercussions. Kat would have to dump a husband, boyfriend, or fiancé if she had any of those.

Maya drew nearer to the bed shrouded in mesh netting, poked her hand inside, and then held Kat’s hot hand. She stroked Kat’s hand with her thumb. “I always wanted a sister,” Maya said quietly.

Kat’s eyes opened, and despite their bleariness, Maya swore that Kat seemed to focus more on her eyes this time.

“Kat,” Maya quickly said, still in the same hushed voice, “do you have family?”

Kat shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Maya’s heartbeat and breathing increased rapidly. She wanted to shout for joy. Kat was an orphan, and she would be Connor’s mate.

And Maya’s family, too. She couldn’t wait for Connor and Kat to have cubs. To cuddle a couple of rambunctious, curious cubs in her arms. Maybe as many as four. She would help Kat raise them—just like a good aunt would. Not that Kat would birth a litter of jaguar cubs. She would probably birth them as a human, like their mother did them. Then they would shift when they were little whenever their mother did.

Her mother had later explained to Maya—as kind of a birds-and-the-bees lecture—that the shifter chose which form she would take to have her offspring. And the cubs would change with the mother’s shifting until they were older and understood the risk of shifting whenever humans were around.

Yes! This was just too good to be true. Then Kat could help Maya find a mate since Connor hadn’t been looking all that hard.

“Kat, you don’t have a brother, do you?”

Kat closed her eyes.

No brother. No family. Of course, no brother.

“No boyfriend, right?”

But Kat appeared to be sleeping now. Maya looked around, listening for any sound that her brother was nearby, and heard nothing but jungle noises—the birds and bugs and monkeys. She got up from her chair and walked over to each of the windows, looking for any sign of Connor. None. She and Kat were perfectly alone.

She returned to the bed, and for the first time since she had scratched Kat, Maya pulled aside the bedcover and moved Kat’s leg to see if it was still scratched or if the scratches had faded away like a shifter’s would.

They were angry and red and looked infected. Maya sucked in a breath, held back tears, and wanted to sob out loud. She had only wanted a sister, a mate for Connor. Because of the jungle conditions, she might have infected Kat, giving her a slow and painful death instead.

Lightning flashed in the heavens above and thunder rumbled all around them as the afternoon rain steadily tapped on the thatched roof of the hut and the broad leaves of the surrounding trees. The rainwater funneled ever downward toward the jungle floor beneath the hut, which was situated high above the ground on stilts. Connor sat beside a sleeping Kat, running a wet cloth over her bare arm while his other hand held hers in reassurance. Though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her… or himself.

The next day, she was still hot, still tossing and turning, still half out of her head.

How horrible Maya had to have felt when he’d been sick. At the time, he hadn’t comprehended why she’d alternately been so upset and angry with him. But now seeing Kat so ill, he felt the same fear surging through his blood. Though their shifter genes helped to heal them, some wounds could be fatal for him and Maya, and some illnesses difficult to overcome. But Kat was only human.

He breathed in the dampness mixed with the faint fragrance of gardenias from the wet cloth, a mixture Maya had made from wildflowers and hand sanitizer, as he slid the cool, moist cloth over Kat’s shoulders and collarbone and throat.

Kat opened her eyes and stared past him as she had done several times already. Once again, his heart tripped just to see her eyes open. He sat forward on the chair, praying she was finally coming out of the fog.

He leaned in and whispered, “Kat,” in a husky, dark voice, not wanting to wake Maya, who was sleeping on the porch.

More than anything, he wanted to hear Kat respond, to say something intelligible again. He watched for any change in her expression, any sign that she recognized him. Her hand reached up unsteadily as if to touch his face, and he leaned forward even more, not sure what she intended to do. Whatever it was, he wanted to make it easier for her.

She ran her hand over his hair with a featherlight caress. His body tightened with an uncontrollable need that he instantly resented. He wasn’t about to give in to his feral craving to taste her, possess her, have her for his own—if the only reason was to satisfy the part of his nature that was a born conqueror.

She licked her lips, moistening them, her glassy eyes fixed on his mouth.

“Kat?”

She tried to say something, and he grew even closer, bringing his ear nearer to her mouth so he could hear her words. Her lips, soft from his washing, and her cheek and then her silky skin touched his ear. He quickly lifted his head and stared at her. Her gaze met his briefly before it settled on his mouth again.

“Kat, can you understand me?”

She slipped her hand down to his cheek and tried to lift her head but was unable.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked.

She murmured something that he couldn’t make out. He leaned down to hear her, and again he felt the soft press of her lips against his ear. She couldn’t have meant to kiss him. He had just gotten too close to her. Or she was just delirious. Her hand gripped his hair but not hard, not considering how weak she was. She couldn’t want him to kiss her. He wished he could give Kat a kiss and take away her sickness.

He ground his teeth. He was already too attached to her, had been ever since he’d first found her in the jungle that fateful day.

She closed her eyes, either too tired to keep them open or in resignation.

He touched her forehead with the fingertips of his free hand, thought her fever was breaking, and closed his own eyes, silently giving thanks.

And then he did what he knew he shouldn’t. He brushed her lips with the barest of kisses. Her fingers tightened on his in response, as if signifying that he’d done what she’d needed him to do most of all. But then she let go and was again lost to him.

In some dark part of his predator’s soul, he felt torn. The tentative bond they’d shared was swept away as the rain fell in a steady torrent. All he could do was watch her and hope she would wake again soon and rejoin their world. But to what? He would have to return her to the one that he and Maya truly weren’t part of.

Then he’d lose her—for good.