Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I can’t help laughing.
His smile grows and he shakes his head. “I was a virgin until I was nineteen, thanks to Nat Wells.”
“Wells? That’s your last name?”
“Yeah.”
“So who was the lucky woman when you were nineteen?”
“Her name was Nicki. We met in a freshman history class.”
Jealousy toward someone I don’t even know burns hot in my chest. I change the subject before he tells me anything more about it.
“Have you seen Flavius today?”
“Nope. But I don’t think he’s far.”
The rain gets lighter and I stand up. “We might as well get back at it.”
“Yeah.” He’s too tall to stand up fully beneath the rock overhang, so he steps outside of it.
I can’t sleep more than a couple of hours a day. Somehow, my body knows we’re exposed and it won’t fall into a deep sleep. As long as I get enough water and some food every day, I feel okay.
Marcus has adjusted to his aromium. He has an erection most of the time and he still looks at me like he’s starving and I’m dinner, but he seems to be able to focus on the search, too.
It’s late afternoon, the heat at its peak for the day. My feet are sore from constant wetness and walking, but all I can do is let them air out once a day and try to dry my socks and shoes.
“I have to use the facilities,” I say, walking toward a grouping of trees nearby.
He busies himself checking supplies, staying in earshot but not watching. I’m crouching behind a massive tree when I see movement in the corner of my eye.
My heart drops to my stomach. It’s a jaguar, slowly stalking in my direction. My mind freezes; I can’t remember what to do when a jaguar is near. Should I run? Play dead?
It takes another step, dropping its head slightly. I stand and pull my pants back up, calling Marcus’s name without screaming it as I zip and button my pants.
A jaguar mauled that Rising Tide guy to death, and he was surrounded by people with aromium. I apologize to the universe for my thoughts about our search conditions being tough.
My sore feet and sunburned scalp don’t compare to getting my throat ripped out by a jaguar.
“Marcus,” I say, a little louder this time.
Help me.
Something thick and coiled drops down from a tree branch above me. I jolt, thinking it’s a snake, but it slithers through the air, not hitting the ground.
It’s a vine, and it’s not the only one. Vibrant green vines in a variety of thicknesses are all moving swiftly toward the jaguar. The one from the tree reaches the cat and crawls onto its back.
The animal turns and retreats, racing toward the jungle. As soon as it’s gone, I breathe again and the vines slither back the way they came, gone as quickly as they arrived. The one from the tree lightly brushes my upper arm as it goes, the touch almost ... affectionate.
“Briar, you okay?” Marcus calls.
I jog back to him, his eyes widening when he sees my face. His hand goes to the gun on his hip.
“What happened?”
“Vines.” I swallow hard, still not believing what just happened. “There was a jaguar, and I was afraid it was going to kill me.”
His eyes bulge, his gaze darting behind me. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you yell for me?”
I lower my brows. “I kind of did, but forget that. Vines came out from all over and they were going for the jaguar. They scared it off.”
He runs a hand through his hair, scanning our surroundings. “You’re sure it’s gone?”
“Yeah, but more importantly—what the fuck was that? It’s the second time vines have protected me. How is that even possible?”
He shrugs. “People and animals aren’t the only experiments on this island.”
My pulse races as realization sets in. “Are you saying plants have been injected with aromium too?”
He nods. I haven’t even processed my shock yet when his arm shoots out and he moves me behind him.
“Something just moved on the beach,” he whispers.
Not the jaguar again. I groan inwardly. We’ve been lucky to not have confrontations with predators so far, but luck always runs out.
Marcus gestures for me to stay behind him as he creeps toward the beach, machete in hand. We didn’t bring stun sticks because they’re cumbersome, but right now I wish I had one.
I draw my handgun, leaving the safety on, scanning our surroundings as Marcus keeps his gaze ahead.
When he has a clear view of the beach, his shoulders drop with relief. “It’s Flavius.”
I lower my gun. When we step onto the fine ivory grains of beach sand, Flavius is sitting midway down the shore, looking at us.
As we get closer, he walks farther down the beach. Marcus follows, both of us constantly checking the area around us for any movement. Normally, I’d marvel at the pink-and-orange sunset over the ocean, but I can’t afford the distraction.