So many dirty thoughts that he’d never been faced with before.
And how was he going to run off with Dallas?
That question halted him not a foot away from the hammock.
Tiago raised his head and sniffed, taking in Dallas’ spicy scent. There was a hint of something dangerous to it. Tiago put it down to the man being a wolf shifter.
He moved a little closer and peered at Dallas’ face, studying the smooth, pale skin that looked as if he’d never have to shave—high cheekbones, the pointed chin and full lips. Dallas had the longest, thickest lashes Tiago had ever seen. They weren’t black, but a deep, rich brown that reminded him of a chocolate bar blended with chilies he’d once had.
Then those thick lashes parted, and Dallas gave a startled gasp before sucking in a sharp breath.
Tiago knew Dallas was going to scream, and he couldn’t let that happen. He reacted on instinct, the need to preserve his own life taking over. He was an apex predator, yes, but he was greatly outnumbered, and while he’d thought he could handle that in theory, the reality of him facing a pack of wolves at any moment was suddenly something slightly more…worrisome. Tiago jerked back but couldn’t leave. He lurched forward at the same time Dallas started to sit up, and his head slammed against Dallas’, stunning them both. Tiago shook it off easily and thought Dallas would, too.
Except he didn’t. Dallas’ eyes widened then rolled back in his head. Tiago panicked, fearing he’d killed the man. It wasn’t until he saw the flutter of pulse and the rise of Dallas’ chest that Tiago didn’t fear he’d shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Something was really wrong with him. He shouldn’t have such feelings.
He shouldn’t have them any more than he should be biting at the shirt. Tiago bunched most of the material in the front, catching it between his teeth. A tug, and he had Dallas out of the hammock. The sand was a softer landing than rocks or hard-packed earth would have been, so Tiago didn’t feel too badly about the impact.
He had to run and make his escape before anyone came out of that house. Tiago was uncatchable on his own, but burdened with the weight of his slight prey, he would be moving slower.
So why didn’t he simply leave Dallas there?
Tiago growled, unable to answer that question as he made off with Dallas into the forest. The wolves would come after him, he knew that.
They wouldn’t find him.
Tiago veered right toward the river that ran fast and deep through the jungle. Dallas moaned and Tiago’s pulse accelerated. He wanted to tell Dallas to trust him, which was crazy. At this point, Tiago wasn’t certain he could trust himself. What he’d just done was so out of character that he couldn’t comprehend it, nor could he deny it. He was, after all, dragging an unconscious man.
The river wasn’t far away. It wound throughout the rainforest, turning and even bypassing itself at some points. Tiago reached the edge of a cliff above the water. He let go of Dallas and sniffed at him. Dallas was alive, now scraped from being dragged, and still out of it.
What the hells have I done? Why am I standing here with this man, preparing to run off with him? Run farther off. He will wake up and hate me, and I will do what?
Tiago couldn’t figure it out, not at all. Yet he also couldn’t leave Dallas. He stood on a cliff, looking at the river running below. Tiago was torn, his rational brain telling him what he was doing made no sense at all, but every instinct in him argued with that voice and told him that Dallas was his.
Since he’d never been possessive of a lover before, the primitive urges only added to his confusion. He simply didn’t know what he should do.
It was the sound of shouting, then barking and howls, that spurred him into action. Tiago took a mouthful of Dallas’ shirt again and lunged off the cliff. Once his paws were clear of the ground, he shifted, immediately wrapping his arms around Dallas as soon as he was able.
They hit the water and sunk deep. Even so, Tiago’s feet never touched the bottom. He kicked until they surfaced. Tiago sputtered and used one arm to get them moving. When it occurred to him that Dallas had neither awakened nor sputtered like he had, fear sparked sharp and immediately in him.
* * * *
“Maarten’s about twenty minutes away,” Ryder said as he came into the living room.
Marcus nodded. “Good. We really need to get moving. Who is going back to your pack?”
“Guillermo, Sissy Dee and Juanita. They’ll keep everyone in line until I return.” Ryder sat down on the arm of the couch. “Sissy wasn’t happy about it, but Keegan’s your captain, and there is no need for him and Sissy both to be out here. Plus, I trust Sissy with the pack. She won’t try to steal it from me.”
“She’s a good captain,” Marcus agreed. “She—” He stopped as a fissure of unease rippled through his awareness.
“Marcus? What is it?” Ryder asked.
Nathan shushed him.
Marcus turned his head until he was looking out of the front door. He stood up when he saw the empty hammock. “Where is Dallas?”
“He’s in the—” Nathan darted around him. “Dallas?” he called out as he stepped onto the porch. “Dallas!”
Marcus ran past him and knew before he reached the hammock. “The jaguar!” He could smell the cat and see the drag marks.
“Dallas!” Nathan shouted again. “There’s no blood,” he said, as he slid to a stop by Marcus.
Marcus growled.
Nathan yelled for Ryder to get everyone out there immediately.
Waiting for backup might have been wise, but Marcus wasn’t going to let one of his pack members get eaten by a goddamned cat. Marcus shed his clothes and shifted. He knew Nathan was right there with him as they took off, running through the rainforest.
The jaguar’s scent was heavy, very musky, almost bitter and easy to follow.
Behind them, Marcus heard the howls and yips of his and Ryder’s guards. He debated silencing them and sending them back. The racket was going to alert the jaguar to the chase.
It probably already had, so there was no point in stopping the hunt now. Marcus was furious at himself for letting Dallas get abducted, and he was more certain than ever that the jaguar wasn’t just a cat. Though he hadn’t believed there to be any other kind of shifters in the world, he should have known better. It was the height of ego to think that only wolf shifters would exist.
And now he would wonder what other kinds were out there—later, after he’d caught the jaguar and got Dallas back.
Marcus saw the upcoming cliff, heard the rushing water below, and his stomach cramped. He had failed.
“You didn’t fail. We will find him.”
Nathan’s reassurance didn’t help.
Marcus stared down at the river. He couldn’t see beyond the curve of it some two dozen yards up. Loping in that direction, he followed the bend of the river from up above for as long as he could, but eventually the ground dropped away too sharply and at an angle opposite of the river. Without leaping into the water, Marcus couldn’t follow it easily.
He still might have tried had Ryder’s strident howl not brought him up short. Marcus sent a prying inquisition to Keegan, and got the answer from Keegan’s thoughts.
Goddamn it!
Marcus spun around and almost plowed into Nathan. Marcus shifted and waited for the arrival of the others. Nathan shifted as well, and they stood, leaning on one another, drawing comfort from each other’s touch.
“We’ll find them both,” Nathan murmured as Ryder, Keegan and the rest of the guards came running toward them.
Ryder shifted and stormed over to him. “We have to go, now! I will not let that fucker hurt Maarten!”
“How do you know Robert Butler has him?” Marcus asked. All he knew was that Maarten had been abducted.
Just like Dallas was taken. Are the jaguar and drug dealer in collusion?
Ryder slammed a fist against the nearest tree. “That bastard called me and told me he had Maarten. That’s how.”
“We will find him,” Nathan said.
“You’re damn right we’ll find him,” Ryder shouted. “I will find him! He’s my mate. He’s my mate,” Ryder finished brokenly, shoulders hunched as he hung his head. “I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t.” Marcus looked back down at the river. He hated the decision he was about to make, but it had to be done. If Ryder lost his mate, Ryder himself would die, and the South American packs would be thrown into turmoil. Dallas had no mate, and while Marcus believed every member of his pack to be important… Two men’s lives depended on finding Maarten alive, at the minimum. If territorial wars broke out because the Alpha Anax of South America died, many, many more lives would be lost.
“Marcus.” Nathan touched him, just a hand to his forearm, maybe not much of a caress but one that Marcus badly needed nonetheless.
“We have to get Maarten back.”
Marcus gave a curt nod. “Gather everyone back to the house. We’ll leave immediately. The kidnapper?”
Ryder understood the unasked question. “He said he would contact me with his demands at midnight tonight. Maarten’s phone was left in the car he was driving. Dylan and Cressida went to retrieve it since Butler said he would call on it tonight. It’s a satellite phone, top of the line. Works anywhere.”
Marcus was going to have to let Dallas go, for now at least.
“Send someone else. Guillermo and another of Ryder’s guards, since they live in this rainforest. Ryder was going to send Guillermo back anyway.”
Nathan’s advice was sound. Marcus walked to Ryder and put his hand on Ryder’s nape. He waited until Ryder looked him in the eyes. “We will get Maarten back, and end this business here. Butler is a dead man. I won’t let you down, Ryder.”
“I can’t—” Ryder’s breath hitched and his eyes teared up. “I can’t even hear Maarten. I haven’t since I felt a moment of shock, or more like he was startled, then nothing. It hurts, so bad. I am so afraid for him.”
Marcus pulled Ryder into a hug. “I bet they tranquilized him. Been there, had it done to me. One moment I was alert, the next I wondered what stung me then I was out. He’s still alive. You would feel it if he wasn’t. That may not sound comforting, but it is true. When Maarten wakes up, the bond between you two will kick in again. If Butler doesn’t know about it, then you’ve got an element of surprise in your favor.”
Plus, Marcus was going to kill the son of a bitch Butler. He’d caused trouble and hurt people Marcus cared about. He’d attacked Marcus’ pack. Such actions were untenable and demanded retribution.
Marcus would serve it out.
“Guillermo, and one other of your guards, can you have them resume the search for Dallas?” Marcus asked when Ryder had taken a steadying breath.
“Yeah, yeah I can. I’ll send him and Vero. They’ll find him.” Ryder straightened his shoulders and looked around until he spied two wolves. “Guillermo, Vero, come here, please.”
Marcus stepped back, standing beside Nathan again. Handing over the search for Dallas rubbed him the wrong way, yet it was the right thing to do. Putting the life of any member of his pack in strangers’ hands wasn’t something he had ever believed he would do. Granted, he did know Guillermo somewhat. Still, he wanted to take care of Dallas himself, and it made him feel like utter shit to categorize the importance of the missing men.
No, he wasn’t doing that. Both Dallas and Maarten mattered. To lose either one would leave a scar on his soul that would never heal. Dallas was a smart, funny, giving person who always did anything he could to help others. He was valued every bit as much as Maarten was.
But Marcus could only search for one man at a time. He would have to trust in Guillermo and Vero to do right by Dallas.
“Find him,” Marcus ordered, not giving a shit that the two shifters were loyal to Ryder, not him. “Alive. Don’t fail.”
“What about the jaguar?” Guillermo asked.
Marcus hardened his heart. “Kill him.”
Beside him, Nathan tensed.
“Maybe—”
“No. He kidnapped Dallas. He must have hurt him, too. You can see where Dallas was dragged. He didn’t fight. Dallas would have fought if he’d been able to. I have no mercy for anyone who harms my pack. No mercy at all.”
Nathan bit his bottom lip, and didn’t argue, but his disapproval seeped into Marcus as they shifted and ran back to the house.
Chapter Four
“Gaw. My head,” Dallas whined, scrunching his eyes shut even tighter. “Ow. Ow ow frickin’ ow.” The concussion was still screwing with him, which totally sucked. He was a shifter and should have been completely healed, senses and all, despite what Sissy or anyone else said.
Apparently his little nap in the hammock hadn’t helped at all. He still had a headache, and he was so tired. The weak feeling was unnerving. Dallas struggled to open his eyes. He shouldn’t be such a weakling. It was no wonder his dad had been so ashamed of him. No one liked having a runt for a son.
And crickets on a stick, his thoughts were everywhere. Why was he even going back to the past? That didn’t do any good at all.
A soft, snuffling sound from by his head made Dallas shiver. Warm, moist air gusted over his cheek and neck.
Dallas became aware of the comfortable, solid bed beneath him.
Alarm shot through him. “What—?” He forced his eyelids up only to see so many spots blinking in his vision that his head spun. “Oh geez.”
One thing was clear, vision or not—he wasn’t in the hammock. Whatever he was lying on felt nothing like the rope swing he’d gone to sleep on.
Dallas moved his hands. One landed on something soft yet firm, and very much alive. The other hit solid rock. “What the hell?” He blinked and started to sit up, his head spinning or maybe it was his brain twirling in his skull. Dizziness was one of his least favorite things to experience in the whole world. He gripped the living thing and willed his vision to clear.
It did and Dallas found himself in a cave behind a lovely waterfall. “Oh man, that’s beautiful,” he murmured, forgetting for a second that he had a hold of something alive.
Until that something alive rumbled at him.
Dallas yelped, jerking his hand back as he whipped his head around to see the large black jaguar beside him. “Oh, oh,” he kept repeating, his heart pounding so hard he feared it would burst.