From this vantage, he spied river after river unfolding to the east, then caught the scent of salt water. The Belizean coast wasn't too far out of reach in that direction. To the west, he could see humans in fatigues swarming over the land like ants, continuing to riddle the countryside with mines.
Mariketa definitely had to travel east. Bowe had been able to survive a mine blast, but he knew he couldn't risk a mortal's being within a mile of one - a mortal who was possibly his. The trek would be longer, but it would prove safer for her in the end.
Unless they didn't make it out before the full moon...
He immediately stifled that thought. No, they'd reach the coast by Friday.
Directly below him lay the bomb blast site, reminding him of what Mariketa was and the power she possessed, filling him with doubt about her. Even if he knew for certain that she was his mate, could he accept a witch as his own? Present her to the clan as his female?
Again he imagined her trembling and wanton beneath him, and his body quickened for her.
I'll bloody figure something out.
A few miles away from the new crater, Bowe spied the line of their ruined vehicles. Her belongings would likely still be within. And in her present situation, even the smallest comfort would be treasured.
He could go out into this night, retrieve her things, and hunt for her. He could use his strength and skill to provide for a female, a female who needed him. The idea made him shake with anticipation.
- Protect. Provide. -
The Instinct was guiding him once more. Ready to obey, Bowe plunged into the jungle.
For the next hour, he hunted in the intermittent rain, hitting the mountainside and streams with a renewed ferocity. At last, after a lifetime of waiting, he was doing what he'd been born to do, and he wanted to howl to the sky with satisfaction.
Yes, Bowe knew all this could be false. With his body and soul, he felt one thing, even as his mind feared the truth. But for so long, he'd known nothing but misery and yearning.
Even Mariah would have understood the witch's pull was just too great to resist -
The clouds briefly dissipated then, revealing the waxing moon. He raised his face to the light that commanded his kind alone, and the power of it filled him with awe, just as it had over all his years. Yet now the coming moon made both dread and eagerness war within him as well.
When he lowered his face, he narrowed his eyes in Mariketa's direction.
If she truly belonged to him... the witch would do well to fear what he was.
15
After Hild had set off, plainly loath to leave Tera - though she seemed oblivious to his attraction - the remaining five had eaten as much unripened fruit as they could tolerate, then taken places around the fire to pass out.
Cade had moved to sleep beside Mari, and she was good with that plan, but Rydstrom had said something sharp in Demonish that made Cade scowl at the entrance to the cave, then turn away from her.
As the others drifted off to sleep one by one, Mari remained wide awake and still chilled and hungry. Though they were in a jungle, this cave sat at a higher elevation. The night air inside was moist and cool, and her long hair hadn't dried.
Rydstrom remained awake as well, and after placing more wood on the fire, he limped over to where she lay.
"How's your leg?" she asked.
"Healing rapidly."
"I'm glad to hear it," she said, reminded again of everything he'd done for her. "Listen, Rydstrom, thank you for helping me tonight. For all your help."
"It was nothing." When he sat beside her, her attention wandered to his damaged horns. One had a piece gouged out, and the other had at least four inches missing from the end.
Mari's first - and only - long-term boyfriend, Acton, had been a storm demon. After dating him for years, she knew how important a demon's horns were to a male. Even females were vain about their tiny, downy ones that looked more like cool hair accessories.
And for rage demons, when their horns straightened and sharpened, the points emitted a deadly poison. Their kind didn't often get jumped from behind. To lose an end would be handicapping for a warrior. "What happened here?" She just prevented herself from reaching out and skimming her finger over one - which would have been totally taboo. "Did it hurt?"
"Like hell. I fought a bit when I was younger."
"I'll bet you did with Cade."
He shook his head. "We didn't live in the same household growing up. The heir is always separated out."
That explained the differences in their accents and bearings.
In an obvious bid to change the subject, he said, "You know, something struck me as odd tonight."
"Only one thing struck you as odd?"
He raised an eyebrow, then continued, "Earlier, when I mentioned that I'd told the Lykae to leave us, I thought you would have been more pleased." Why was Rydstrom studying her reaction like that?
"I was thoroughly pleased." Utterly. "Good riddance, I say."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think that even now you're wishing he'd come back."
"Oh, but you do know better. MacRieve's rabid, and needs to be put down. Though maybe I shouldn't say anything bad about him since you're obviously friends with him. You saved him tonight, from me."
"I did that for you as well. I didn't want you to regret taking his head."
"I'm a witch - I'm sure I would have found a way to carry on." She tilted her head at him. "And you really stuck up for MacRieve with the others."
He nodded. "Bowen and I fought together for many years. And in one battle he saved my youngest sister's life."
"MacRieve did?" At Rydstrom's grave nod, she asked, "Then how could he trap you in the first place?"