hit like a physical blow to her chest, though she tried to hide it. Thinking over his question, Saige listened to the night. She could tell from the distant sound of church bells that the terrifying flight had kept them close to the outskirts of the city, rather than taking them deeper into the jungle. “We’re not far from Coroza,” she murmured. “You can’t very well go flying into town.”
He shrugged, though there was an odd light in his eyes, as if he were teasing her. Not knowing what to make of him, Saige looked to the evening sky for her bearings, then headed west, acutely aware of the man named Michael Quinn following closely beside her…every step of the way. It was an odd, overwhelming sensation, having him so near. And one she wished she didn’t like nearly as much as she did.
Pressing one hand to her stomach, she struggled to push away the unwanted sensations, and reminded herself that her life had just been turned upside down…and would never be normal again.
Not that you did normal all that well anyway, she thought with a frown.
She didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him with her secrets, but as they walked through the verdant beauty of the jungle, Saige couldn’t deny that she was utterly…unusually…and unequivocally fascinated by the dark, intoxicating stranger who’d just landed in her life.
She only wished she had a clue what to do about him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SENSING THE ARRIVAL of a dominant predator, startled wildlife scurried back into the underbrush as Gregory DeKreznick stepped from the thick, humid veil of jungle. Wearing a feral smile, he stalked toward the center of the clearing nestled beside a meandering offshoot of the river, the darkening summer sky shot with fading, violent streaks of purple and pink. A lone wooden hut sat at the north end of the small, cleared patch of dense tropical foliage, a fisherman’s weathered boat propped against its side, testament to the trade of the man who’d lived there, until Gregory had killed him earlier that week. Mere miles from the site where Saige Buchanan had been searching for another of the lost Dark Markers, the meager dwelling had been an ideal location for him and his fellow Casus and so they’d claimed it as their own.
Tonight, the small cabin huddled silent and dark in the moonlight, telling him that at least for the moment, he had the clearing to himself.
Throwing back his wolf-shaped head, the monstrous creature stared up at the infinite, cloud-scarred stretch of night, and allowed his true shape to melt away, pulling back into the body of his human host. Rolling his broad shoulders, Gregory cracked his head to the side with a popping burst of sound, then slicked his chin-length, sun-streaked hair back from his chiseled face, the spattering of blood from the evening’s kills still warm against his skin. Scratching lazily at his chest, he savored the thick, meaty taste of his most recent victims against his tongue, running the tip across the smooth surface of his straight white teeth.
He could have taken Javier Ruiz and used him as bait to draw out his prey, but there’d been no need to go through the hassle when killing him had proven so much more effective. Gregory had gotten what he needed, and as a whole, the Ruiz brothers had been fairly satisfying—though not nearly as sweet as when he feasted on warm, womanly flesh. Men were filling, but females gave him so much more…pleasure, like savoring a fine wine after years of nothing but tepid water.
That was the difference between him and Royce. A team player to the very end, Royce Friesen had been told not to feed from the humans, and so he’d obeyed, drinking the water while Gregory savored the succulent feast. And what a feast it was. He’d hungered for too long while trapped in the holding ground they’d named Meridian. While locked away from the things that made him whole…that made him complete, and no matter what Calder and his followers had told him before his release, Gregory had no intention of obeying their asinine rules.
Friesen, however, lived the servile existence of a good little soldier, only dining on the local livestock. He’d even been warned not to feed from the Merrick bitch until she’d fully awakened—and though it went against everything that the Casus were, the idiot obeyed, following his orders to a T. Even knowing that Gregory grew stronger every day, Royce remained committed to his decision to comply with Calder’s ridiculous dictates, and today it had nearly cost him. They’d trailed Saige Buchanan for hours, expecting her to leave the country once she’d found the second Marker and that milksop of an archaeologist had skipped out, but she’d spent the afternoon scurrying all over town instead. By the time she’d headed toward O Diablo Dos Ángels late in the day, Royce had already gone too long without one of his meager feedings and was growing weak. He’d been forced to travel into the jungle in search of animal prey, leaving Gregory to watch over their target while she visited with her friends at the rustic barra.
Enjoying having her all to himself, without Royce’s irritating presence, Gregory had watched her from afar, biding his time like a shark slowly circling in for the kill, and it had almost paid off. When she’d run into the jungle, he’d thought she’d finally be his…only to have her snatched from his grasp. But he didn’t intend to let it stand.
With a sharp smile of anticipation for the moment he knew would eventually be his, Gregory stretched his arms over his head, aware of the muscles flexing beneath his skin, along with the hard ridges of bone and ropey sinew. For a human, the body he’d taken wasn’t half-bad. Over six foot, with a muscular build, it was better than he’d expected from something that was no better than mere prey, even if the man did have a speck of Casus blood flowing through his veins. When the shades of Gregory’s kind were freed from Meridian, they were required to seek out a human who carried the ancient blood of their ancestors in order to retake a corporeal form. Once taken, the human’s soul was forced from its body. The Casus, however, retained the host’s memories, which enabled them to function in these unusual modern times—and they were thankfully capable of shifting into their true form when needed.
Gregory wondered if Malcolm, his only blood brother and the first to be sent back from Meridian, had enjoyed his freedom this much, then quickly beat down the destructive thought, locking it away with his hatred, where it belonged. It hurt too much to think of Malcolm—of what that eldest Buchanan bastard had taken from him. That was why Gregory wanted his hands on Saige so badly—to show that prick what it felt like to have something taken away, ripped from your life, knowing that you could never get it back.
She might have been “meant” for Royce, but Gregory had no intention of letting the other Casus have her. She’d gotten away from him tonight—but it wouldn’t happen again. No matter what Friesen decided to do next, Gregory had a plan, one that he intended to execute with or without his fellow Casus.
While Royce and the others concerned themselves with securing the crosses and building up their strength in order to bring more of their kind back from Meridian, Gregory cared only for Buchanan blood. After all, it was the Merrick who had trapped the Casus so many years ago, cursing them to a fate worse than death. Because of their immortality, they could not die, and so they’d simply wasted away to mere shades of the powerful beings they’d once been, forced to dwell within human bodies once they’d regained this realm. But it was the eldest Buchanan sibling who had used the first Dark Marker to destroy his brother’s soul, condemning Malcolm to the pits of hell for all eternity. For that, as well as the incarceration of his species, Gregory had vowed to make them pay. The ability to love might not be a common trait for the Casus, but they understood loyalty to family like no other. In a world as vicious as theirs, sometimes it was the only way to survive.
“And Watchman or not,” he rasped with a hard smile, remembering the moment when he’d licked the blood from her leg off his claws, “I’m going to enjoy taking little Saige Buchanan to pieces.”
Rumbling a dark
