was watching them.
He took Rikki’s arm. “We go now. Fast.”
She shook him off, staring. Her mask was gone, as were her goggles. Exposed, vulnerable, deadly. “This was murder. All of this.”
All of this. Her voice echoed inside his head, as did visions of the dead; a thousand corpses bloody and still and twisted in poses of agony. Amiri smelled burning flesh, the smoke of the massive funeral pyre.
Blood trickled down Eddie’s cheek. His protective gear was torn, his face exposed. He did not seem to care. There was fire in his gaze: those flames, reflected. Burning. “Jungle or river,” he said. “Those are our options.”
Amiri heard distant shouts. The fire was spreading into the refugee camp, no doubt licking the edges of fumes and gasoline. Ready for another explosion, another consumption. The river was on the other side of it all, swift and safe. A sure thing.
But the jungle was closer, and he was good with shadows.
There was a path through the fire. Amiri did not know what lay on the other side, but it was better than remaining still. He pointed and Eddie wordlessly took the lead, running ahead. Amiri grasped Rikki’s hand, but she pulled back again, still staring at the wreckage of the plane. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.
She never blinked. He expected her to be distracted, terrified, but instead her gaze was clear, hot, her focus utterly striking. She looked at him like she could see straight through to his soul, and it stole his breath.
“We must go,” he whispered, still holding her chin, his words tumbling into a growl. “We must live.”
Rikki touched his face, her fingers trailing up his cheek to the corner of his eye. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a shock of heat through him that went deeper than the surrounding fires. For a moment he forgot himself, the danger, his convictions; the cheetah rumbled through his chest, responding only to this woman, her scent. His hand tightened. He swayed closer.
Eddie shouted his name. Amiri froze. His heart thundered, everything inside his body tight, hard. He could not believe what he had been on the verge of doing. So stupid, so thoughtless. Less than animal.
Rikki still studied his face, but there was a difference in her gaze that he could not bear to look closely upon. He turned, grabbing her hand. Rikki stumbled, but this time followed. They raced away from the fire, toward the jungle.
Eddie was waiting. Amiri felt a sliver of fear for the young man—for himself, as well. They had done too much tonight. All their secrets, everything they had to hide, was bubbling to the surface. In front of a woman with sharp eyes.
Exposed once, exposed again. The world is too small if you are not willing to hide.
The pressure at the base of his spine intensified; his hackles tingled. Just within the leading edge of the jungle he passed Rikki off to Eddie, and turned in time to see a man follow them from the flaming wreckage. Not a peacekeeper, not a doctor or aid worker. This man wore a pale suit and a pale tie. An incongruous sight; an illusion, perhaps. Amiri stared, taking in the tall lean body, the short blond hair. Sharp features, deadly eyes. A face that reminded him of someone. A presence that made him think of cages and steel and Russia.
The man was some distance away, but he looked directly into Amiri’s hiding place and held up his hand. Waved, with a cold smile.
Amiri’s chest tightened. He melted backward into the jungle, passing into shadow. The cheetah fought him; the beast wanted blood, could already taste it, bitter and keen. Amiri bit his tongue to satisfy the urge. No matter who their pursuer was, now was not the time. He had the woman to think of. And Eddie.
They were waiting for him deep within the bush. The air was hot beneath the night canopy. Amiri listened hard, but other than the low hoot of birds, he heard nothing to indicate other humans, or pursuit. Not that it would last. They had been
He took Rikki’s arm. “We go now. Fast.”
She shook him off, staring. Her mask was gone, as were her goggles. Exposed, vulnerable, deadly. “This was murder. All of this.”
All of this. Her voice echoed inside his head, as did visions of the dead; a thousand corpses bloody and still and twisted in poses of agony. Amiri smelled burning flesh, the smoke of the massive funeral pyre.
Blood trickled down Eddie’s cheek. His protective gear was torn, his face exposed. He did not seem to care. There was fire in his gaze: those flames, reflected. Burning. “Jungle or river,” he said. “Those are our options.”
Amiri heard distant shouts. The fire was spreading into the refugee camp, no doubt licking the edges of fumes and gasoline. Ready for another explosion, another consumption. The river was on the other side of it all, swift and safe. A sure thing.
But the jungle was closer, and he was good with shadows.
There was a path through the fire. Amiri did not know what lay on the other side, but it was better than remaining still. He pointed and Eddie wordlessly took the lead, running ahead. Amiri grasped Rikki’s hand, but she pulled back again, still staring at the wreckage of the plane. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.
She never blinked. He expected her to be distracted, terrified, but instead her gaze was clear, hot, her focus utterly striking. She looked at him like she could see straight through to his soul, and it stole his breath.
“We must go,” he whispered, still holding her chin, his words tumbling into a growl. “We must live.”
Rikki touched his face, her fingers trailing up his cheek to the corner of his eye. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a shock of heat through him that went deeper than the surrounding fires. For a moment he forgot himself, the danger, his convictions; the cheetah rumbled through his chest, responding only to this woman, her scent. His hand tightened. He swayed closer.
Eddie shouted his name. Amiri froze. His heart thundered, everything inside his body tight, hard. He could not believe what he had been on the verge of doing. So stupid, so thoughtless. Less than animal.
Rikki still studied his face, but there was a difference in her gaze that he could not bear to look closely upon. He turned, grabbing her hand. Rikki stumbled, but this time followed. They raced away from the fire, toward the jungle.
Eddie was waiting. Amiri felt a sliver of fear for the young man—for himself, as well. They had done too much tonight. All their secrets, everything they had to hide, was bubbling to the surface. In front of a woman with sharp eyes.
Exposed once, exposed again. The world is too small if you are not willing to hide.
The pressure at the base of his spine intensified; his hackles tingled. Just within the leading edge of the jungle he passed Rikki off to Eddie, and turned in time to see a man follow them from the flaming wreckage. Not a peacekeeper, not a doctor or aid worker. This man wore a pale suit and a pale tie. An incongruous sight; an illusion, perhaps. Amiri stared, taking in the tall lean body, the short blond hair. Sharp features, deadly eyes. A face that reminded him of someone. A presence that made him think of cages and steel and Russia.
The man was some distance away, but he looked directly into Amiri’s hiding place and held up his hand. Waved, with a cold smile.
Amiri’s chest tightened. He melted backward into the jungle, passing into shadow. The cheetah fought him; the beast wanted blood, could already taste it, bitter and keen. Amiri bit his tongue to satisfy the urge. No matter who their pursuer was, now was not the time. He had the woman to think of. And Eddie.
They were waiting for him deep within the bush. The air was hot beneath the night canopy. Amiri listened hard, but other than the low hoot of birds, he heard nothing to indicate other humans, or pursuit. Not that it would last. They had been
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