[Atlantean's Quest 01] The Arrival (8 page)

The Professor appeared before her, flushed with anger. He drew back his hand and slapped her.

The screaming stopped.

* * * * *

Eros’s eyes narrowed and his muscles bunched, ready for action. After the joining ceremony, the second Eros got the opportunity he’d kill the fire-haired bastard for striking his woman. He cursed, as renewed anger surged through him. He couldn’t risk taking the man’s life now and destroying the sacredness of the ceremony. He gripped the liana in his hand as if it were a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from making good on his promise right now.

His heart clenched as he watched her horror-filled eyes take in the death of the native. He’d give anything to be able to sweep the memory from her, and return the smile she’d given him last night.

Soon he’d get his chance…

Chapter Five

Rachel was numb. Her senses dull, the colors around her muted by the tears in her eyes. She followed the guides through the dense underbrush, no longer caring whether they stopped for breaks or walked on forever. She’d just seen a man die.

She brought up the rear now, stumbling over exposed roots, tripping on tangled vines and snuffing the life out of delicate ferns. Her mind tried to make sense of what had occurred at the river.

The water flowed, just like the stream she’d swam in the night before.

It could have just as easily been her that the snake chose to attack, not some poor guy trying to make a buck.

She tried to picture the native man’s face. His rough features blurred and morphed every time she thought she was close to seeing them. She wondered if he’d even had a chance to take a wife. Maybe he’d never been married, never had kids.

And now he never would.

A tear streaked down her face and landed on her hand. The drop blended in with the sheen of perspiration covering her skin. Her chest ached. She didn’t want to go through life without having someone to love, someone who’d love her back. And maybe, just maybe, kids. She sniffed, trying to hold back the flow of tears.

It didn’t work. Somewhere inside her a dam had broken. All the pain and frustration she’d experienced over the last few years flowed out, leaving a salty trail behind.

She swiped a grubby hand across her face, trying to wipe away the moisture. Her eyes were blurring so bad that she couldn’t see the trail. Frustrated, she stopped. The caravan of men kept going, which was fine with her. She needed a minute alone to compose herself.

Rachel shrugged the pack off and reached inside for a hanky. She didn’t want to leave any litter, so she’d passed on bringing tissues. She grabbed the clean cloth and dabbed at her eyes.

She spied a fallen tree about five yards away that looked inviting. Rachel dragged her backpack over to the mossy green trunk and sat down. The air was hot, muggy and all around unpleasant.

Jac and Brigit were right. She wasn’t ready for a real expedition, one where people died. She needed her friends, needed to talk to them. She needed to get the hell out of this jungle.

Rachel glanced at the trail. The caravan disappeared out of sight and she couldn’t hear the rustling of feet. Something inside her told her she should be worried, but she wasn’t.

She looked at her watch, her mind scrambled, trying to calculate the time difference. Digging in her bag, she pulled out her cell phone, praying the GPS would work in this thick canopy. She punched in the numbers, almost by rote, since the sun barely permeated the green depths.

The line crackled and hissed, but then she heard the distinct sound of ringing. Her heart leapt.

“Pick up, pick up, Jac. Please pick up.”

“Hello.”

“Jac, it’s me, Rachel. Can you hear me?”

“I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as possible—if you’re lucky.”

Rachel’s spirits sank, swallowed up by the moist earth below her feet. She heard several beeps on the end of the line before a final long beep signaled her turn to speak.

“Jac, it’s me. I just wanted you to know that I miss you guys and I can’t wait to come back home.” Rachel scrubbed tears from her cheek with her palm. “You were right. Right about everything. I’ll try to call later when we make caaaahhhhh—”

A big hand reached from behind her and covered her mouth. A man’s hand. Rachel tried to break loose and scream, but it was no use. The hand didn’t budge. Instead, the man grabbed her hanky and shoved it in her mouth. A thin vine looped over the top of the hanky, cutting off all chance of yelling for help.

She clenched the cell phone in her hand and hurriedly pressed off with her thumb, before shoving the phone into her pocket. She didn’t want her friend to hear the last gasps of life leave her body.

She felt herself being lifted from behind. Rachel scratched and kicked frantically against her assailant, fighting like an animal possessed. Several more hands grasped her, tying her feet and wrists as she struggled.

Rachel recognized Jaro, the guide she’d been talking to earlier.
What is he doing?

Several of the men from the expedition stood around her. She’d been trussed like a turkey by the time they’d finished. From the looks on their startled faces, she’d at least gotten a few good jabs in.

Serves them right.

Fear seeped into her bones, weighing them down like a marble slab. She was defenseless. They could do anything they wanted to her and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. Her heart lurched.

In her mind, she tried to remember how many guides were on the expedition. Fifteen…twenty…enough for a very efficient gang rape. New York Times articles sprung into her mind about group violence.
Wilding
, they’d called it.

Her stomach flipped and bile rose in her throat. She screamed against the gag, her body tensing and straining, testing the strength of her restraints. The vines bit into her tender wrists. She felt the warm trickle of liquid drip down her hand.

Blood. Her blood.

Rachel’s head began to swim. If she were lucky she’d lose consciousness before they had a chance to touch her.

The guides began to chant ritualistic words, their voices strangely hypnotic in cadence, yet terrifying considering the situation. A familiar voice bellowed out. The blood in her veins froze.

The Professor, where was he
?
He’d stop all this nonsense at once, if she could just get his attention.

Dr. Donald stepped into her line of vision. “I told you my dear, in order to get the natives to continue on, there must be a sacrifice. You don’t mind that I mentioned to them that they could take you, do you?”

Rachel’s eyes bugged out and she tried to kick and scream at the bastard, to no avail. The vines were too tight.

He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Her heart sank.
He was part of it. Hell, he was the reason for them tying her up.

The asshole had sacrificed her
.
Shock, fear, and revulsion crashed through her until all that remained was white-hot anger.
Rachel narrowed her eyes to razor slits.

I’ll get you for this, if I ever get out of here alive. And if I don’t, I’ll haunt you straight to hell.

The Professor turned to Jaro.

“I think she’s mad at me,” he smirked. “Make it quick. This part of the jungle gives me the creeps.” He rubbed his arms as if to ward off a chill, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her at the mercy of the native men.

Rachel watched his retreating back until he was out of sight, her eyes burning with angry tears. She blinked them back, then glared at Jaro.

He’d also observed the Professor’s hasty retreat, and a look of disgust crossed his coffee colored features. His black orbs returned to Rachel, a half smile covering his brown face. Without words, she pleaded with him.

“Perhaps I have time to show you what a real man is like. I’m sure the gods wouldn’t mind if I test you first, before sending you off to meet them,” Jaro grumbled, rubbing his hand along his cock through the front of his pants.

Rachel watched in horror as his rod began to lengthen and stir. The men around her laughed and egged Jaro on. The pungent sweat of their bodies choked off the air. Rachel struggled, her boots kicking up bits of dirt from the ground. Revulsion slithered through her blood like thousands of tiny fire ants.

“I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jaro crouched in front of her, reached out and pinched her nipple, twisting until pain shot through Rachel’s body.

She screamed against the gag once again.

“Maybe I’ll take that rag out of your mouth and put those pretty lips to use sucking my dick. I bet you’d be good.” The menacing smile on his face made her skin crawl.

Rachel watched Jaro raise his hand to his zipper, freeing his brown cock. He grasped his rod, whipping it from side-to-side in front of her face like a sword. Taunting, a not so subtle reminder of exactly what he planned to do to her.

“I can tell you’re hungry for me.” He cupped her cunt. “I bet if I cut your pants off you’d be wet.” He made a move as if to make good on his promise.

Rachel shook her head and struggled violently against her bonds. She could feel the veins bulging in the side of her neck.

Jaro’s expression turned cold and he shoved his penis back into his pants. His black eyes bore into hers, sparking with barely contained rage.

“So you think you’re too good for me?” He spit on the ground beside her face. “You had your chance.” Jaro lifted a wooden rainbow painted club above his head. The singsong chanting resumed and increased in volume.

Rachel knew she was going to die. Colors collided. Her vision swam.

He brought the club down swiftly and thankfully her world went black.

Chapter Six

Eros’s heart froze when he saw the native raise the ceremonial club in the air. He’d been following the expedition for the past several miles looking for a place to snatch his woman. He’d taken the time to scout ahead and now because of his absence she was about to lose her life before his eyes.

He bellowed, a cry of anguish ripping from his chest, echoing through the jungle. Monkeys screamed and scattered throughout the treetops. Birds flapped their wings in their hurry to escape. Insects stopped their busy noises.

He raised his large palm, pointing it in the direction of the man holding the club. Brilliant energy shot out, ripping the weapon from the man’s grasp, searing the native’s hand. The guide screamed, clutching the burned limb.

The natives stepped away from Rachel’s limp body and scattered. As they ran away, their panicked voices shouted about the fierce ghost tribe.

Eros jumped down from the tree he’d been perched in, and ran a shaky hand through his long hair. His fingers trembled as the excess energy was absorbed back into his system.

He approached the woman slowly, carefully, his body as sensitive to his surroundings as an exposed nerve in a loose tooth. Natural predators gave him a wide berth, sensing the danger.

She lay bound, her sable hair thrown in disarray around her face from the struggle. Long lashes fell in soft crescents against her pale cheeks. The hat she’d worn sat amongst the leaves about ten feet from her small body.

He crouched and reached a fingertip out to move the stray locks from her forehead. She was warm. The breath from her pert nose came out even and deep. He picked her up as if she were the finest gem, brushing leaves away from her clothes and out of her hair.

Eros ran a hand over her, examining her for injuries. She’d be bruised if he didn’t treat her. He sent energy through her, the heat permeating her body, healing her from the inside out.

It was time to take her home.

* * * * *

Rachel awoke in mid air, her arms and legs hanging limp. She must be floating up to heaven. At least she hoped she was. Her muscles were numb and sore from lack of circulation. The strange thing was her head didn’t hurt.

She opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of large feet, then long legs, bulging biceps and a wide muscled chest.

Yep, definitely heaven.

Her eyes were drawn up and up and up. The man lifting her was a giant. At least he seemed like it to Rachel. The rainbow stick, the guides, the attack, being tied up. Flash by flash the pictures collided in her fuzzy mind. Rachel wriggled and thrashed.

The man held her with one hand, her feet dangling a foot off the ground as if she weighed no more than a rag doll. Her struggles went unnoticed. He pulled a huge knife from a sheath at his waist and sliced through the vines binding her hands and feet. He left her gag in place.

She squirmed, trying to break his hold, all the while knowing escape was futile. She looked into his face.

Rachel’s breath seized.

His eyes, a rich shade of blue, held her gaze—locking her to him, drawing her in, arresting her until all thought of escape vanished like a dream upon waking. Undisguised desire flared from their aqua depths, promising, imploring, and beseeching.

He was lethal.

His features were starkly handsome, as if he’d been chiseled from Michelangelo’s granite. Long sun-kissed hair hung wildly around his face and down his back, past his narrow hips. His lips were firm, but full. An inkling of familiarity danced across her mind.

Then it hit her.
This was her dream man
.

Except he wasn’t a dream at all.

Rachel stilled, every fiber of her being honed in on his body. She reached out, unable to stop herself from touching his bare chest. She had to make sure he was real for her own peace of mind. Her fingers met with steeled warmth, and tingled on contact. He was a man of contrasts. Soft, yet hard. Tender, yet fierce.

Rachel pressed her palm flat, scraping his flat disc of a nipple.

He flinched. His blue gaze widened in surprise, then turned tumultuous like the ocean in the midst of a storm. Before she had a chance to speak, he flung her over his massive shoulder. The air rushed out of Rachel’s lungs, leaving her gasping for breath behind the gag. The giant took off, racing through the jungle at an astonishing speed.