His Darkest Embrace (10 page)

Skye stumbled and took a step back, yelping in pain as her tortured, tired feet hit a sharp snag.

Jagger rose slowly, his large frame moving with the grace and fluidity of someone half his size. The man screamed otherworld and Skye froze at the intensity behind his eyes.

The man looked dangerous. The man looked
hungry.
And pissed off.

With her.

She continued to back up, casually taking in the immediate area around her, but it was no use. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

Not that she had the energy, anyway.

He took one step toward her and she flinched. Skye couldn’t help it. As much as she didn’t want to show an ounce of weakness, there was no denying the potent strength and underlying anger that fed the jaguar. His eyes swept over her, piercing, full of contempt and loathing.

Skye felt her heart jerk, chest tighten, and she swallowed painfully.

She couldn’t help but feel hurt.

He reached for her and she held her breath, closing her eyes, expecting some sort of physical violence, but instead was pulled roughly into his arms.

The touch of his flesh was welcomed with reluctance. It heated her cold skin.

Skye stared up at him, confused. He pushed her back slowly, until her body was cushioned between the natural wall that the trees had formed and the hard body in front of her. She felt off balance, her torn and sore feet trying to gain leverage on the rough bottom.

Instinctually her hands braced themselves against Jagger’s hard chest and she winced at the cruel laugh that fell from his lips.

Skye closed her eyes, wanting to banish the image of the disgusted look that graced his handsome features.

“Ever the little whore.” Jagger’s breath was hot against her cheek and she shivered as cold washed through her body. Words couldn’t be hidden behind closed eyes and the despair that she felt inside was painful.

Why should she give a shit what he thought?

His hands gripped her cheeks, the fingers digging in until the whimper that was torn from her throat hung in the air between them. Skye could feel the tears behind her eyes, but she held on. There was no way in hell that she would cry in front of him.

“Just do it and get it over with,” she spat out, her eyes opening wide as a spark of anger bit at her.

Jagger seemed surprised at her words, but only for a moment. Then understanding dawned and he smiled once more, the white of his teeth a soft glow amongst the dim gloom of night.

His eyes made a show of trailing a path down her body, but the curl to his lip left no doubt as to what he was feeling.

And it was anything but lust.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Skye. If I wanted to fuck, I’d have you begging for it before your back even hit the floor.” He laughed softly then, a sinister sound that grated on her last working nerve. “Don’t get all excited. I’m not particularly fond of screwing the enemy’s leftovers.”

He turned her around before she had a chance to react, her mind stinging from the nastiness of his words.

“We need to sleep. I’m damn near dead on my feet, no thanks to you, and I’ve got a lot of shit to deal with tomorrow.”

“What are you …” Skye’s voice trailed off weakly. She felt like a rag doll that had been beaten down, trashed, and kicked to the curb. She just had nothing left.

Jagger pulled her down with him, keeping her back nestled against his chest. It wasn’t for comfort, either. His arms were like hard steel bands that wrapped around the front, just under her breasts, holding her there firmly. Skye wasn’t going anywhere.

Her tongue felt thick and her head was swimming from lack of food and water. Slowly her gaze wandered up to the satchel that hung just out of reach.

The weight of her mission and everything that had transpired over the last six months was incredible. Would she have the strength to carry it through?

“Lots to deal with,” he whispered ominously against her ear. Skye couldn’t hide the shudder that wracked her frame.

“And you’re first up on the agenda.”

Chapter 9

S
kye wasn’t sure how long she lay there, her body rigid against the warmth of Jagger’s chest. She tried to ignore the feel of him, his muscles, the hard planes of his torso, the way his body rose and fell as he inhaled air deep into his lungs.

She was so tense it honestly felt like her body was going to snap in two. Her shoulders were sore, her neck in knots and her fists were balled together so tightly she could feel the wetness from the blood her nails had drawn.

The dizziness that had washed over her earlier was still circling inside her skull, making her feel weak, and to top it off her head was pounding so hard it felt like a truckload of jackhammers was having a freaking party.

She’d give anything for a couple shots of tequila. Or better yet an entire bottle dumped down her throat. She just wanted everything to go away.

What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep and wake up in another life. In another world entirely. One that didn’t include shifters, magicks, and demons.

The dead lump in her gut told her that fantasy was never gonna happen.

For the first time Skye was not only scared, she was beginning to lose hope. Even the months she’d spent in captivity being held by the DaCostas—
even then—
she’d never given up hope that the eagles would win.

That the portal would be recovered and sealed.

That humanity would be saved from the brink of a demon war.

But now?

Skye was just so tired and burnt out she didn’t know what to think anymore. Was it even possible to win the war? It all seemed so incredibly hopeless.

She closed her eyes and fought the ache that had attached itself to her soul. It pulled at her, dragging her down. She hurt. Everywhere.

She needed to sleep, but was hesitant to fall under. She was scared.

Not of the jaguar that held her—although Skye was pretty sure she’d be changing her tune in the morning—no, it was the promise of something much more insidious.

Her nightmare from the evening before still hovered around the edges of her consciousness, the leftover images and feelings lingering, taunting.

Was Azaiel real? Were the nightmares more than what they appeared to be? She exhaled softly, trying not to move. Maybe she really was losing her mind.

Skye held on and did her best to keep her senses alive, her mind working even as she longed to close her eyes and rest. But as the minutes dragged by she could feel herself losing the battle. Jagger’s heart beat a steady, hypnotic rhythm beneath her and the warmth from his flesh crept into the coldness of her own.

Eventually her mind began to wander and as she succumbed to the kiss of the sandman, a soft sigh of regret slipped from her mouth.

Jagger wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually Skye grew limp as the weight of her body fell into the crook of his arms. Her head rested against his chest, but even in sleep, she held herself rigid. Her shoulders were hunched, her body held at an unnatural angle in an effort to avoid his touch.

She felt cold but he had no inclination to offer anything other than the prison of his embrace. He didn’t trust her in the least.

He tried to ignore the scent that clung to her skin. He knew it was potent. Christ, it felt like she was drowning in
come fuck me
musk. He was angered by the response his body took.

He wanted her. Plain and simple.

Oh, he’d proclaimed his aversion to her charms, how could he not? She was obviously in collusion with the enemy. But the aching throb that lay heavy against his groin told another story.

Jagger felt another wave of loathing wash over him and this time it had nothing to do with Skye. It was toward himself and the weak betrayal of his body. He clenched his teeth together viciously and vowed that as soon as they got back to some sort of civilization, he’d find the first willing female that he could and screw her until his balls turned blue.

Tiredly his mind turned in circles. There was so much he didn’t know and for the first time he felt a sliver of regret. He’d been selfish to disappear, to leave his family fighting a war without him.

He
was the soldier, for Christ sakes, not Julian.

He closed his eyes and laid his head against the rough bark of the tree at his back, forcing his body to relax. The nocturnal sounds of the jungle soothed his soul, the clicks, hoots, hisses, and even the shrill call of the occasional howler monkey. They all melted together into a comforting lullaby, and eventually Jagger fell asleep.

At first he wasn’t sure what had woken him. A feeling of unease. A blackness that slid over his skin. It awakened the animal deep inside and Jagger was instantly on guard.

His eyes flew open and his nostrils quivered.

The jungle was now silent, eerily so.

The black of night had given way to the hazy gray of early morning. Shadows shifted in the breeze that blew around him, looking sinister.

He felt his stomach muscles clench. The quiet ate at him. It wasn’t normal.

He was instantly alert, and he pulled in the woman that he held with his arms until she was tight against his chest. There was something in the air but it was unlike anything he’d encountered before. The scent was subtle.

Skye moaned softly and her body began to shake in quick, jerky movements. Her head lolled to the side as her body continued to quiver and it took great effort for Jagger to hold her still.

Her eyes flew open, the blue roundness wide yet unseeing. He watched as her lips began to tremble, soft moans escaping.

His arms held her tighter but that just seemed to aggravate her even more, and her skull connected solidly with his chin as she continued to thrash about.

Son of a bitch!

Her fingers unfurled and the claws that ripped into his upper arms were sharp, deadly weapons. He looked down, not surprised to see long talons taking the place of her fingers.

Every hair on his body was electrified and his instinct to defend and destroy kicked in big-time. He began to pant and his body broke out in a thin sheen of sweat.

Skye’s nails drew blood and he cursed under his breath. Fuck! He had no time for this shit. Jagger twisted his hips and pushed, effectively flipping Skye over so that she was now trapped beneath him.

She began to buck wildly, her strength surprising him. A chill slithered up his body and Jagger stilled, his head whipping around as the jaguar inside hissed in anger.

The space was empty. But he knew better. There was something there. It wasn’t human or animal. Whatever the hell it was, it was definitely otherworld.

His eyes scanned the entire length of the canopy and his ears listened closely as he struggled to calm the woman beneath him.

The air seemed to dissipate, as if some force was sucking it out into a black hole. Frustration gnawed at him but Jagger kept still. He’d seen and dealt with many things in his life and knew the only way to defeat an unseen enemy was to keep a cool head and look for the perfect opportunity to attack.

Timing was everything.

Skye suddenly stopped moving and his gaze quickly returned to her. Inside, the animal railed against him, wanting out, feeling panicky, as if under attack.

Her eyes widened in fear. Her lips began to move, whispered words falling from between dry lips, and he bent down closer in an effort to hear her.

She spoke in a language he’d never heard before, an ancient tongue. The rhythm was awkward, the sounds guttural and sharp. Her voice was rough, unlike the melodic timbre he’d grown accustomed to.

Her eyes were trained on a point behind him but they remained unfocused. As her voice rose the vivid blue receded, the color invaded by an insidious black that seeped into the orbs, leaving them dull, opaque.

She began to shake violently, her head thrashing from side to side, and Jagger began to fear for the woman beneath him.

“Skye!” he whispered hoarsely, using his legs to pin her down as his hands gripped her face hard. She continued to fight him, her body flushed with a fiery heat, the skin slick with her sweat.

The wind picked up and her hair began to snake out, catching the breeze as it whirled around the two of them. Skye continued to ramble wildly, the words nearly shouted. Her face had become a deep red and he noticed small slashes of blue returning to her eyes.

He lowered his head until he was nearly touching her and held her face between his large hands. “Fight it! Snap out of it!”

What the hell was going on?

His heart nearly stopped as the woman beneath him went rigid, her body arching against his. The veins in her neck stood out in stark relief and when she went limp, fear shot through him.

Jagger began to shake her violently, not thinking that his own strength could be damaging. She felt like a rag doll in his arms and frantically he felt for a pulse, feeling such a rush of relief when he found it that he began to shake as well.

He held her close to his chest, feeling the animal inside relax as the threat disappeared, retreating back to wherever the hell it had come from.

Skye’s teeth began to chatter loudly and big, fat tears fell from her eyes. He looked down at her, surprised to see her focused on him. The blackness that had been there was gone, but was replaced with such pain and terror that it gripped him hard.

What was it about this woman that had him yo-yoing like a wet-behind-the-ears teenager? One minute he wanted nothing more than to kill her and in the next, protect her with his very life.

He rolled over once more, bringing her with him, cradling her against his chest. There was no resistance.

He could hear her whispering and Jagger listened in silence as she repeated a phrase over and over again. It left him cold.

“Azaiel is coming. Azaiel is coming.”

Who the hell was Azaiel?

He lay like that for several long minutes. Skye nestled into the protective shadow of his arms and he rested his chin on the top of her head. He could hear her heartbeat, its erratic pulse slowing until it banged out a slower, calmer rhythm. Her breathing normalized as well, and when she started to squirm, he let her go.

She pulled away, leaning against the tree bark, her shadowed eyes meeting his. She opened her mouth to speak and whispered, “Thirsty.”

He held her gaze for a few moments, fighting the questions inside of him that demanded answers. He quickly stood up, retrieving a water bottle from one of the supply bags. He also grabbed four granola bars. He was hungry, but after an entire day without food, Skye must be damn near starved.

She took the bottle from him, draining it in several long gulps, and then ripped open the granola bars, eating them greedily.

His gaze fell to her fingertips and he noted that the clawlike talons were no more, replaced instead with long, elegant human digits. She caught his stare and sat up a little straighter, pushing her chin forward, her features now shadowed with a hint of insolence.

A spark of admiration glimmered in him; it was fleeting but there nonetheless. The woman was his enemy and involved in some seriously fucked-up shit, but there was something about her that pulled at him.

Hard.

Christ, the sight of her lips as she chewed hit him in the gut.

Jagger wanted to turn away but found that he couldn’t. So he watched, eyes hooded, face a mask.

When she was done, she pulled herself up to her knees and looked at him expectantly. By now the sun was beginning to break through, and streaks of gold, red and orange bled across the morning sky.

The jungle sounds had resumed their loud, robust nature, the air alive with the shrieks of birds, monkeys, and anything else that went bump in the night. Things had pretty much returned to normal in this little corner of the world, but Jagger knew it was all a facade. Window dressing to hide what was really going on.

He looked at Skye in silence, her body barely covered by Declan’s T-shirt, and while the anger was still there, riding just below the surface, there was a glimmer of excitement, too. It was something he’d not felt in years.

He frowned. What the hell did that say about him?

“So what now?” she whispered, her voice still rough.

Jagger rose to his feet, his frown darkening as he stood above her. “What’s your connection to the DaCostas? Why are they after you?” His face was shadowed as he moved closer to her.

Skye’s eyes widened slightly and she looked at the ground.
So this is how it’s gonna be,
he thought. He bared his teeth and crouched in front of her.

“I have questions and you will answer me, Skye, because if not,” he said softly, dangerous, “the consequences will be very painful.”