“But Elena—”
“Is a bitch,” he snarled. “The woman is jealous of you and always has been. She tells Ricardo everything you do. She hates you with the same passion she has for the monster I work for.” Pedro checked his watch.
Her thoughts raced. “I can't leave without Jules.”
Pedro sighed. “I knew you'd say that. Go now and use this to free him.” He handed her an iron key. “Sheridan, if you aren't out of here soon, you'll never leave.” She hugged him again. “I wish you'd come with me.” But Pedro would never be able to keep up, not as out of shape as he was. And as he'd admitted on more than one occasion, he wasn't one for roughing it.
“You'll have to walk a few miles before you find a village, but there's money in the pack as well. You can buy a ride back to the coast if you push.” He grew silent.
“I love you, Sheridan.”
“Oh, Pedro.” She sniffed. She'd been so wrapped up in her work, she hadn't noticed. But now that she thought about it, Pedro's shy smiles and attentive consideration made more sense. She felt torn. He'd had a crush, and now he thought he loved her. And he might very well die because of it. She blinked back tears. God, he could die for her. For all that he worked for Ricardo, Pedro was a good man. And she felt terrible for never noticing.
He coughed. “Go. Down the southern hallway and outside the main buildings.
Stay in the shadows, then grab your friend and leave. Follow the trail I marked on the map. But hurry.”
She kissed him on the cheek and left. Following his instructions to the letter, she didn't encounter anyone on her way to Jules's cell. Once inside, she ignored everything but freeing him. And just her luck, he had to be in the worst condition she'd yet seen him. She had no idea how he remained standing.
He stirred when she finished unlocking the last of his manacles. “Sh-Sheridan?”
“Dammit. Don't move.” She put her hands on his chest and pushed her energy into him, fast and hard. Light-headed yet filled with lust, she stumbled back and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. She didn't think she'd given him enough healing, but it was all she could manage and still remain standing.
“What the fuck?” He held her wrist up. “Who did this?” Already she felt the bruises along her wrists and arms. The minor hurt paled next to the burning desire racing through her body for Jules. Man, I am so insane to want him when we’re in so much danger.
“No time,” she rasped, trying to catch her breath and praying her nipples didn't look as hard as they felt. “We have to go. Now.” He studied her barely clad body and swore. “I'm going to kill Montaña. Slowly.
Painfully,” he said hoarsely, still not 100 percent okay.
She could feel his wounds still festering but didn't have the energy to finish him. What she'd done would have to do.
He dragged her with him to the door and exited after she keyed in the code.
“Wait. There's a map.” Sheridan drew in a deep breath and found her center.
She couldn't run away if she was on the verge of passing out. Though not at full strength, she intended to leave on her own two feet. It was clear Jules couldn't manage more than himself at the moment. She shrugged out of the pack and found the map in an outer pocket. But when she tried to orient her direction, she found she couldn't focus.
“You sure you're okay?” Jules asked.
“I'm fine.”
He plucked the map from her hands, turned it around, and pointed north.
“That way. Let's go.” He took the pack and wavered on his feet.
“Are you good?”
“I'll have to be,” he muttered. He put the pack on his back and took off into the jungle, glancing over his shoulder at her every few seconds.
She surprised herself by keeping up with him, adrenaline giving her the boost she needed to escape. Though he'd been injured, he still had a well of strength she didn't. She kept up with him for what felt like a good mile, knowing full well he'd slowed his pace for her.
Then her body just quit. The drain of healing him, the shocks she'd faced tonight, and the run through the freaking jungle in bare feet, took its toll. She collapsed like a rag doll behind him.
The minute she dropped, he was there.
“Damn.” Jules shook his head and just… grew. One minute, he stood there, a human giant; the next, he had longer hair, claws, darker skin, and stood a foot taller, wider, and just bigger everywhere. His growl sounded more animal than man, and she couldn't help staring in shock as he lifted her in his muscular arms.
His eyes no longer resembled those of a man, but of a cat.
She was so amazed by the changes in him, she didn't even think to question being held in his arms.
Jules leaned closer and sniffed at the curve of her neck, where it joined her shoulder. “Fuck, you smell good.”
She gasped when she saw fangs. “Oh my God.”
He snorted, what she thought might have been a pass at laughter, and then he took off. Jarring yet exhilarating, they moved through the jungle faster than she could have moved by herself, even in running shoes. Jules flowed over the uneven ground like a jaguar at full tilt. He had speed, stamina, and an instinctive knowledge that made him seem at one with the jungle.
They'd run for what felt like hours before he slowed. But he didn't stop. At times he stumbled. His pain would flare and fade, and she felt a subtle twin sense of energy within him, as if two people fought for command of his body. It was odd; she'd never before felt the like.
His gait grew rougher, but he wouldn't put her down.
“Jules, let me go.” She'd rested enough.
“Not yet.”
“When? When we reach the States?” she asked drily.
“When we outrun them.”
Before she could ask who, as if on cue, a loud, wild scream rent the air.
“Mutants, probably a few rogues,” Jules answered. “They find us, we're fucked.” Jules took a deep breath and ran faster. “And that's if we're lucky.”
Chapter Three
Despite the danger, despite his ragged pain, Jules had a hard time thinking with so much exposed female flesh in his arms. Imagining Sheridan naked had been hard enough, but seeing her all but bare rocked his foundation.
Running with a hard-on wasn't comfortable by any means, but if the creatures chasing them got their hands on her, Sheridan would wish for a quick death. She’s here, in my arms. For fuck’s sake, she has to be real. Unfortunately, the drugs made his beast just as hazy as the human part of him. The colors of the forest popped despite the darkness around them. The scent of wild animals, flowers, and woman mixed into one heady perfume.
His body ached, his bones and tissue desperately needed to heal, but he didn't have the time to complete the process. What Sheridan had done had helped, but it wasn't enough. And their race through the jungle made it worse. Am I carrying her?
Is she really there?
He hugged her closer and heard a soft grunt.
She’s real. His beast growled and refused to accept the fact she might not be.
Not that Jules could blame him. Even the fantasy of Sheridan was better than anything they'd dealt with for weeks.
He still didn't know what had happened to facilitate their escape, but the time for talking could wait. He had to accept that he wasn't crazy. Sheridan was, in fact, a real woman.
So small and vulnerable, the woman in his arms called on every one of his protective instincts. No way would Jules let anyone put a hand on her. Sheridan had saved him, apparently at great peril to herself.