On The Prowl (5 page)

She listened to the sounds of the jungle, to Griffin’s breathing slow, deepening, and she knew he was asleep. Closing her eyes, she followed, blissful sleep overtaking her.

Chapter Five

Griffin came awake instantly. There was someone—or something—moving through the jungle, trying to be quiet, but not succeeding. Beside him, wrapped in his cape, Addison slept soundly.

Silently he came to his feet, his knife in his hand. Behind them several pair of eyes watched him from the foliage. One pair of eyes broke away from the others, stepping forward, a man emerging from the jungle. Griffin recognized the man.

“Kade.”

“Griffin. You are far from home. Care to tell me why you’re camped on the edge of my territory?” Kade glanced past Griffin at the sleeping form of Addison.

“And with a human.” He shook his head, then lifted it, sniffing the air. “You surprise me, Griffin. And you disgust me as well, considering you’ve mated with her.”

“Who I am with is no concern of yours.”

Griffin drew himself up to his full height. Kade was younger than Griffin, and should be showing more respect, even if Griffin and Addison were in Kade’s territory, uninvited.

Griffin’s anger rose, his beast clawing inside him, wanting release, wanting to attack Kade, rip him limb from limb. He fought for control, succeeded, straightening his shoulders. All this happened in the space of a heartbeat, all of it hidden from Kade.

“But know that I will be crossing your territory at first light. I am on a mission, not interested in you or your clan. We will be left alone.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard, Griffin.”

“I am, but I’ve earned the right to be arrogant. You, Kade, are still a cub. Show some respect.”

Kade bristled, but Griffin could sense the younger man’s bravado fading. Kade dropped his eyes, and Griffin knew there would be no more trouble from him.

“You shall pass through and you will be left alone.”

“As it should be. Thank you.”

Kade growled, then spun on his heel, disappearing into the jungle. The rest of his clan followed him, the glowing eyes in the foliage winking out.

“Who was that?”

Griffin turned. Addison was sitting up, wrapped in his cape. He could smell the acrid scent of fear mixing with the other heady scents that surrounded her. For a moment a wave of intense protectiveness filled him, along with something else, a tenderness that baffled him. A prickle of irritation started at the base of his spine. She was no more his mate than Kade was. She was a human who had agreed to bear his child, and nothing more. Protecting her was appropriate; whatever else he felt was irrelevant.

“Kade. Clan leader of the territory we’re going to cross. He’s young, brash…and felt the need to assert his authority.” He snorted, sitting down beside Addison. “He has no respect for his elders.”

Addison’s soft laugh came to him. “Brash…and assertive. Those are either shifter traits, or you and he have more in common than you realize.”

“And you and he share the trait of disrespect.”

Her smile faded and she lowered her head. For a moment he wanted to reach out, tell her his words were harsher than he’d intended. But she’d already turned away, lying back down, her back to him. He watched her for a moment, confused by the welter of emotions coursing through him.

He wanted to curse her, take her back to her kind, leave her with the other human. Or abandon her here to find the damn flower on her own. But most of all he wanted her, badly, as he had last night, and it took all his control to not tear away his cape and mate with her, whether she wanted it or not.

His beast was angry, snarling and growling, and he needed to get away from her. He stood abruptly, tore off his loincloth and strode into the jungle. Dropping to his hands and knees, he shuddered as his beast tore through his human skin, fangs and claws and fur emerging. The ancient power filled him, coursed through his body, but for the first time, it did not calm his raging beast. 

Tipping his head back, he snarled in frustration at the moon, the sky above him, the trees, the dirt beneath his feet. He leapt onto a fallen tree, claws digging into the soft, rotten wood. From there he ran into the jungle, pushing himself, jumping over rocks, claws digging into the soft jungle floor. He ran until he was exhausted, his beast finally receding, and he finally came limping back to where Addison was sleeping, sweat covering his chest, running down his face.

Breathing hard, he dropped down beside her. And he cursed her again, because as exhausted as he was, he still wanted her, just as badly as before. He lay down, his back to her, waiting for the sun to rise, knowing sleep would not come.

Chapter Six

They crossed Kade’s territory the following day without incident. Addison was quiet, following him easily through the jungle, keeping pace even though he pushed her hard, Griffin not wanting to test Kade’s promise to let them pass undisturbed. He found fruit for them, and they drank from a fresh stream. She seemed distracted, and they ate in silence.

Near the end of the day she asked him how far away the orchid was, how far they needed to travel. He heard the tiredness in her voice and it surprised him.

“Tomorrow, late, maybe the next morning.”

She was sitting on a log, looking up at him, face drawn, exhaustion clear in the dark circles beneath her eyes. For a moment he saw a faint smile lift the corners of her mouth. Then the smile faded, her expression darkening. She pulled off her boots, dropping them in a heap on the ground.

“Unless it’s not there anymore.”

“There is that possibility.” He couldn’t tell her anything other than the truth, even if that truth was harsh.

She nodded, dropping her head into her hands. He almost reached out to her, to bolster her strength. But he turned instead to the jungle.

“Rest. I’ll get food.” It was as close as he could come to offering her comfort. It was inadequate, but everything he felt now confused him, and that confusion made him angry. He was the alpha, the leader of his clan. He should be strong and certain, not a simpering cub.

When he returned she was standing, every muscle tense, every sense on alert. There was no scent of a predator, or of Kade, in the air. Around them birds called, something flitted through the foliage above their heads. But nothing triggered alarms in Griffin.

“What is it? Was someone here?”

“No. Look!” She pointed up into the canopy of the trees that swayed overhead.

At the edge of the clearing he saw the orchid, shining white against the dark green foliage behind it. There was a single flower, growing from the fork of a tree, high up in the canopy. The petals had fringed edges, and even from here he could see the vivid burgundy tinge at the throat, the startling contrast that told him it was the orchid they sought.

Addison walked forward, almost as if she were approaching a rare bird that might take flight. Griffin followed, the fruit in his hands forgotten.

“It’s too far up in the tree. There’s no way to reach it. And there’s only one flower.”

He heard the disappointment and frustration in her voice. He set the bundle of fruit on the ground.

“You forget who you’re with.” He couldn’t keep the mocking tone from his voice.

She turned to him, and he caught the surprised—and somewhat hurt—look on her face. A strange pang, a completely foreign feeling, clenched his heart. With a start he realized he felt guilty for hurting her feelings. He made the effort to soften his tone.

“I meant, I can easily climb trees.”

She nodded, the hurt slowly left her eyes, but she still looked nervously between him and the trees overhead. “But even so, it’s very high.”

He followed her gaze. The flower was very high, its stem trailing over the slender branches of the tree. But there was no way now he would not climb the tree, not retrieve the flower for Addison. He dropped his cape to the ground.

Thick vines hung down from the trees, all of them ending several feet from the ground. He jumped, easily catching the end of one vine. Using his arms, he pulled himself upward until he could wrap his legs around the vine. It was much easier to climb and he reached the top in just a few moments.

But he was still several feet away from the flower. Flexing his arms and rocking his body, he gathered momentum, swinging back and forth, until he was close enough to reach one of the uppermost branches.

Griffin pulled himself over to the tree, wrapping his legs around the branch. It was thinner than he realized and it bent dangerously under his weight. All he could do was pray to the Gods the branch would hold him. Above him a flock of birds flew out of the tree, screeching, feathers floating down past his face. Addison called to him, but the words were lost in the singing of the wind in the leaves over his head.

There was no other choice than to let go of the vine. It swung away, out of his reach, and he was left hanging, arms and legs wrapped around the thin branch, almost upside down above the jungle floor. The branch dipped and swayed, the orchid still out of his reach.

Slowly he inched his way along the branch, relieved as it grew thicker, finally reaching the place where it joined the main trunk. He gripped the thick tree with his thighs, moving downward hand over hand, until he came to rest just above the orchid, stopping far enough away so not to dislodge the flower.

Holding tight with his legs, he let go with one hand, reaching down to pluck the flower from its vine. He looked down at Addison standing in the clearing, shading her eyes as she watched him. Taking the stem of the flower between his teeth, he began his descent to the forest floor. Jumping the last few feet, he landed lightly on the ground. He straightened and held the orchid out toward Addison.

She reached out slowly, and he saw her hand trembling. With his other hand, he cupped hers, placing the orchid on her palm. She stared at it as if it were going to vanish if she so much as blinked.

“I need to protect the pollen.” She looked up at him, dismay blossoming on her face. “I can’t carry it like this through the jungle.”

Griffin reached down, picking up the banana leaf he’d wrapped around the now-forgotten bundle of fruit.

“Let me.” He tore a thin strip of banana leaf, holding it between his teeth, then reached for the flower. The pollen trembled and he held his breath. Carefully he folded the petals inward, the fringed edges weaving together, closing over the pollen-laden inner part of the flower. The large outer petals were next, and he held the flower in one hand, taking the strand of banana leaf and weaving it around the bundled flower.

Addison watched each move he made, lips parted, breath held. When he was finished, he held the small bundle out to her.

“This is yours.”

She held out her hand and he set the small bundle on her palm. It rested there like a green and white gem, glowing in the muted light beneath the trees.

Addison looked up at him. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

He heard the rough emotion in her voice and thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked small and vulnerable, and this time he did reach out for her, leaning forward to briefly cradle the nape of her neck, kissing her softly on the forehead.

“You are welcome.”

Addison smiled, and he caught a faint blush on her cheeks. She looked back at the orchid. “I’m afraid to set it down.”

Griffin reached down for the remainder of the banana leaf. With a few swift gestures, he bent and folded the leaf, creating a small pouch. With his knife he pierced holes in the edges and wove another thin strip of leaf through the holes. He plucked the orchid from her hand, carefully set it in the pouch and then tugged the string closed. A few knots secured the opening and he dangled it in front of Addison.

“Safe and secure. Waterproof as well.”

She took the pouch, looking up at him. To his surprise, tears spilled down her face, her shoulders shaking silently. Her hand trembled and Griffin reached out for the orchid.

“Here. Let’s put this someplace safe until tomorrow.” He reached up into the tree, setting the leaf pouch into a hole in a trunk. He pulled the a few fronds of foliage over the hole, covering the opening.

“Will it be safe?” She looked from him to the tree and then back.

“It will be safe. No one wants the orchid except you. It won’t get lost or crushed, and if it rains, it will stay dry. It will be there tomorrow when we leave.”

She turned eagerly to him. “Can’t we go back tonight? We can make it almost all the way home.”

He shook his head. “No. I will not sleep in Kade’s territory. Traveling through is enough. We will eat, sleep here, and leave at first light.”

She sighed and he could sense her frustration. But then she drew a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to smile up at him. But the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I guess I can understand that. It’s just that I’ve been looking forward to this…it means so much…” She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “I know there’s still the journey back to the ruins, and then getting the orchid back to the Museum. It seems like this was the hardest part, but there’s still so much left to do. And I don’t even know yet if I can extract what I need to make a cure. Or even if the cure will work.” Her words came out in a rush.

“One step of the journey at a time.” Griffin reached down, picking up a few pieces of fruit. “Eat. Then rest. Tomorrow we start back. There is no other way.”

He took off his cape, laying it on the ground. “Sit.”

She hesitated, looking up at the tree where the orchid was hidden. He took her hand, pulling her down beside him. She came reluctantly, but she sat beside him.

“Sit. The orchid is no safer with you standing than it is with you sitting beneath it.” He pulled out his knife, slicing into a melon, its sweet scent filling the air.

“You think I’m being silly.” She took the melon slice he offered her, biting into it with relish. She was hungry and a wave of admiration overcame him, that she would put her own needs and comfort second to making the journey back with the orchid.

“Not silly.” He bit into the melon, the lush taste filling his mouth. “You’ve come a long way on a slim hope. And now that hope has borne fruit…or flower as it may be. You now have new hope to take you home.”

She took another piece of fruit, and they ate in silence. The sun was setting, the sky turning a pale yellow overhead. Griffin lifted his head; there was the smell of rain in the air, but he didn’t think it would find them until tomorrow. He glanced at Addison; better not to tell her that until it became necessary. It would make their journey home miserable, and that was one less worry she needed tonight.

There was still the agreement between them. It hung in the air, like the smell of rain, like the promise of the orchid. He glanced at her as she ate, knowing that soon he’d mate with her again. His body still tingled with sensation, with the memory of her arching in his hands, her cries filling his ears. To know he would experience that again was an amazing thought.

For the first time in a long time he thought what it would be like to have a mate, to have someone to share his life with. Then he shook his head, mentally chiding himself. This was a human, a woman from a faraway place, a place as foreign to him as this jungle was to her. There was no future with her; there was only the agreement that would, he hoped, keep his kind alive.

As if reading his thoughts Addison shifted beside him, resting a hand on his arm. He glanced down at her.

“Thank you again, Griffin. And I believe I’m still under the terms of our agreement?”

She looked at him with such look of primal lust he was taken off guard. It would be impossible to believe she wanted this, wanted him, that she felt anything other than the obligation of the arrangement. Despite how she’d reacted to him, to the mating last night, he didn’t believe it meant anything other than she was a hot-blooded woman, a woman who enjoyed mating. That, and his skill, of course.

“You are.” He tried to sound gruff, but his voice betrayed him, the words tinged with longing. “You are.”

He reached out, brushing a tangle of hair away from her face. She reached up, her hand resting on his. In the soft light her eyes were luminous, emotions there he hadn’t seen—or bothered looking for—last night. For a moment he was lost in her gaze.

 She leaned forward at the same time he did, their lips meeting in a kiss that had nothing to do with agreements, or obligations. It was a kiss full of passion, wanting, desire—not only his, but Addison’s.

Everything in him came alive, not just the physical reaction to her, but emotions he’d never allowed himself to feel.

Rising to his knees, Griffin pulled Addison to hers. His hands knew now, how to remove the tedious layers of clothes she wore and within a few moments he had her naked. Her skin was so pale in the fading light that she looked fragile, like the petals of her orchid. But he knew she wasn’t and he had no intention of treating her like a delicate flower.

Her hands were tugging at his loincloth, the fabric coming away easily, leaving him as exposed as she, his desire for her evident. Unexpectedly she took him in her hand, her strong fingers caressing him. To have her take the lead, to have her look at him while he looked at her, fueled him like nothing else.

But touching alone wasn’t enough; he pulled her down onto the ground, rolling on top of her, the lush fullness of her breasts pressing against his chest. He bent his head to her neck, inhaling deeply. She’d lost the smell of civilization, the artificial scents washed away with sweat and rain. He smelled Addison, her own amazing feminine scent. And he smelled the arousal coming from her, deep and alluring, and it made him want her even more.

Addison moved beneath him, her legs sliding up over his thighs, locking them around the small of his back, opening herself to him. It was a wanton invitation, and he was ready for her.