The current slowed as the canyon walls widened, carrying them into a calm lake. Panting hard, Bramford swam with one arm towards the shore, burdened by her dead weight. When her foot scraped bottom, Eden tried to stand but her legs gave way.
Bramford dragged her onto land, coming to rest in the shade of a palm grove. Even half-dead, he had remembered to protect her from the sun. With a start Eden saw how necessary it was. Not a shed of her dark coating remained. The water had washed it all away. Finally, she didn’t care. She was just glad to be alive.
She collapsed onto the sand beside Bramford, her limbs intertwined with his. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each labored breath. His warm chin brushed the top of her head. The rapid drumming of his heartbeat in her ear reminded her of the risks he’d taken.
Why on Blessed Earth had El Tigre saved her?
Eden shivered from the wet, clinging dress, or maybe the fear lodged in her spine. She snuggled closer to Bramford. For warmth, she told herself. He didn’t protest, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be wrapped in each other’s arms on a sunny day in the wilderness.
Of course, Eden knew it wasn’t natural, though she had a hard time convincing herself at that moment. She couldn’t deny how good it felt to lie beside his strong body, which grounded her like a ship’s anchor. Exactly, she thought, delighted to grasp the outmoded concept. For the first time since she’d left home, she didn’t feel adrift in a rocky storm.
Eden brushed her cheek against Bramford’s chest and he made a soft, vibrating sound. Was he purring? He tightened his arms around her, rolling her against him. Her long golden hair fanned over his dark torso, the contrast startling her. She never had felt more exposed in her life.
At the same time, a curious, buoyant feeling welled up inside of her. Eden had experienced some pleasure with Jamal, although her sensors had manufactured it. She always had been in control, never losing sight of her goal to be mated.
Now, she felt captive to the strange, pleasurable sensations that stampeded like wild horses up and down her body. She never wanted to leave Bramford’s side. Amazingly, her abysmal circumstances and even the loss of her Life-Band suddenly seemed trivial.
Unpredictable, her father had called this beastly man. But he hadn’t warned her how unpredictable she would be.
AN ETHEREAL birdsong floated on the torpid air, bewitching Eden. She immediately identified it as that of a black-faced solitaire, Myadestes melanops. But there was something new and mysterious in its call, unlike any she’d heard on the World-Band. The actual bird, long thought extinct, sounded unreal. But then, cuddled with Bramford beside a placid, sparkling lake, nothing seemed real.
He began to stir, his hand falling down the length of her back, leaving a trail of electric sparks. She gasped, as they exploded in her brain. She shut her eyes tight, drawing in deep breaths. Bramford didn’t seem to notice her response. In fact, he knocked her to the side as he rose from the ground. Standing over her, he gave a curious grunt. Had he forgotten she was there?
Breathless, Eden stared up at him. Mottled light played against his muscular body. His pants hung in tatters, his strong legs bursting through the seams. She didn’t know where to look. Her entire existence had narrowed to the small patch of earth they shared. Then, for no good reason, Bramford growled at her and walked away.
The beast.
Eden only had imagined a tender connection between them. Her oxy-deprived brain and the infernal noonday heat that pressed like an iron on her throbbing head had induced the ridiculous fantasy.
She shaded her eyes against the glare, watching him fish for something in the trees that ringed the edge of the jungle. A minute later, he loped towards the lake, carrying a gourd. He smashed the top of it against a rock, then filled it with water. Diamond-like pinpoints of light danced on the lake and silhouetted his incredible body. Eden quivered, as Bramford arched his back and took a long drink.
She forced herself to look at a brace of fulvous whistling ducks among the water reeds. The clear, high-pitched calls of the Dendrocygna bicolor somehow lightened her mood. In the distance, a majestic mountain range shimmered through a bank of white clouds. All that open space and blinding light—it was beautiful, wasn’t it?
From far away, the rumbling sound of the rapids reminded Eden how far she was from her poor father. She caught herself as she tried to connect to his Life-Band. No wonder things seemed so unreal. She couldn’t be certain of anything when there was no one to mirror her life.
“Drink this,” Bramford said.
Eden jumped, startled by his presence. How on Good Earth could she stay on guard when he moved like the wind?
Her hand brushed against his, as she took the gourd from him. Once more she felt a crazy, magnetic pull towards him. She could feel his eyes burning into her as she gulped thirstily. She had never tasted water so fresh, and murmured with delight. After estimating her proper quota, she gave the gourd back to Bramford.
“Is that all you want?” he said.
It took a second for Eden to grasp the reality. Plentiful water, whenever she wanted!
She looked at him, wide-eyed, and laughed out loud. His expression darkened, and she saw the usual disgust flood into his eyes. Why didn’t he just say it? More than ever, she looked like a freak.
“At least I’m alive. Thanks to you.” It sounded like an accusation, which Eden immediately regretted.
Bramford stiffened. “You could have gotten us both killed.”
“No one asked you to come in after me.”
“What was I supposed to do? Let you drown?”
“What do you care?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. His fists clenched, as if he wanted to grab her. Eden half hoped he would. Instead, Bramford reached in his pocket and offered her a handful of small, purple berries.
“Açaí berries,” he said. “They’ll relieve the oxy-deprivation.”
Eden knew about the all-purpose food used by jungle dwellers for everything from a sleep aid to beauty treatments. But she wasn’t a jungle dweller, and she didn’t want his help anymore. She looked away, ignoring him.
“Eat,” he ordered her.
“You eat,” she said, nastily.
She tried to rise but her head spun. She plopped down and rolled on the ground. The bemused look on his face only added to her humiliation.
“Suit yourself.” He popped the berries in his mouth.
“How will we get back?” she said, anxious to be away from him.
“We’re not going back.”
“But what about my father?”
Bramford’s eyes narrowed with a faraway look. Eden had the eerie feeling he could see into the future, maybe like El Tigre, after all. But that was impossible.
“The Huaorani will track us to the water,” he said, looking towards the rapids. “They’ll see where you fell, figure out the rest and meet us at camp.”
And the backpack, would they see that, too?
“And where is camp?” Eden said, desperate to get her hands on the Life-Band again.
Bramford continued to study the scenery. He wasn’t going to say, she realized.
“What? Do you think I’ll tell someone?” she said, with a pang of guilt. That was exactly what she hoped to do.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Given the chance, you’d betray me in a heartbeat.”
“Betray you? I didn’t ask to come here. I just want to go home.”
“We don’t always get what we want, Eden.”
We? What did Bramford know about disappointment? But as she took in the feline eyes and his hybrid form, Eden figured he finally knew what it felt like to be different.
“I guess you’re sorry you volunteered,” she said.
Bramford looked weary. “I’m done with regrets.”
“But look what it did to you.”
He flinched and Eden wasn’t sorry her words had stung.
“Maybe I should have let you sink,” he said, turni
ng on her.
“Well, why didn’t you? How am I supposed to survive by day? And what’s going to happen to my father in this sinkhole? Did you think of that when you kidnapped us and brought us here”—she jerked her arm in an arc—“to this deserted, sunny place? No, as usual, you only thought of yourself—”
Bramford jumped on her, pinning her beneath him. His brutally handsome face hovered over hers. Eden stared, transfixed, into fiery eyes as an unfamiliar fluttering darted in her chest, like a small bird released from its cage. She kicked her feet and squirmed, but she was powerless against him. So she used her words, the only weapon she possessed.
“Are you going to rip me to pieces?” He flinched as if she’d slapped him. Eden went on, heedless of the danger. “You’re a predator, aren’t you? You’d enjoy it. You planned this power trip all along—you can’t fool me.”
He roared angrily and she shrank back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his face a mass of contradictions. Then he gave her a look that could kill. “You know, you’re a pain in the ass, Eden.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Now eat,” he said, and forced a berry to her lips.
The tart juice burst into her mouth. An immediate feeling of well-being surged through her. Almost as good as oxy.
Bramford stood up and dropped more of the berries at his feet. Eden grabbed for them, gnawing the pulp off the large seeds. She didn’t care if she looked like an animal. When she finished, she sighed with relief.
“Thanks,” she said.
He grunted softly. You’re welcome, perhaps? In any case, Eden believed it was the most civil exchange they’d ever had.
She watched him tie one end of a vine round the neck of the gourd and knot the ends together. He slung it diagonally across his chest. Then without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto his shoulders.
“Hey,” Eden cried, wobbling on her perch.
Bramford gripped her thighs to steady her. His warm hands burned against her bare flesh, giving her goose bumps.
He barked out a command. “Hold on.”
“I can walk,” she said, unconvincingly.
“Not where we’re going.”
Eden tentatively wrapped her legs around his broad back, barely able to encircle his girth. In spots, Bramford’s downy fur rubbed against her skin, surprisingly pleasant. A faint shudder ran through her.
She began to slip backwards, as he sped towards the forest. To stop herself from falling, she squeezed her legs tight around him. Once again, she thought she heard him purr. He placed her hands on top of his head.
“Hold on,” he repeated, though his voice was gentler.
She sunk her fingers into his long silky hair, like reins on a horse. As if she controlled the beast. Eden knew it wasn’t true, but she enjoyed the illusion just the same.
THE MYSTERIOUS maze of the jungle swallowed Eden into its dark, forbidding folds. Like craggy monsters, an army of trees reached for her. She glanced over her shoulder, desperate to see the lake, but not even a sliver of it showed through the dense brush. In a minute, she was disoriented.
Only Bramford’s easy, confident step reassured her. What did she have to fear when she rode on the shoulders of a mighty predator? His instincts and power would protect her.
“How far is it?” Eden asked nervously. “If the men go by canoe, will they arrive before us? I wish there was a way to signal—”
“Be quiet,” Bramford said.
“I just wanted—”
“How am I supposed to find the way when you make so much noise?”
Eden shrieked. “You mean you don’t know how to get there?”
“Shhh!” He pinched her thigh.
“Ouch!” she cried.
“Quiet!”
Eden stared at the large hand that gripped her legs and fumed. Some predator.
With little cries she fanned away cobwebs that caught in her hair. Something soft fluttered in her face, and she screamed. Each time she made a noise, Bramford squeezed her again. In return, she groaned. From despair or pleasure, she couldn’t say.
Gradually, Eden’s eyes adjusted to the flickering shadows and she began to decipher the dark chaos around her. High up in the overhead canopy, she saw sunbeams float like golden streamers through narrow gaps in the trees. At least, she realized, the thick foliage provided her with shade.
At eye-level from her perch on Bramford’s shoulders, Eden saw another layer of trees that spread laterally through the forest. Not unlike the Combs at home, it created a network of pathways, only for animals and birds. The forest floor, cast in shadows, appeared to be made of huge roots, bogs and piles of vines, which Bramford negotiated with ease, thanks to the superior eyesight that the harpy eagle had donated.
A profusion of smells and sounds grew more distinct, assaulting Eden from every corner. Masses of sensuous orchids wrapped their spindly roots around tree trunks. Their passionate colors and exotic smells amazed her.
A tribe of small, bald uakari monkeys, Cacajao melano-cephalus, swung from branch to branch alongside of them. Their red faces puckered as they jabbered with loud shrieks. What did the uakaris make of the strange creature beneath her? Or, she wondered with a start, did the eerie white thing with long yellow hair cause a stir?
She was the alien here, not Bramford.
Unlike the dry heat in the tunnels, the jungle was a steamy cauldron. Soon, sweat ran down Eden’s back. Bramford handed her the gourd at the exact second she felt thirsty. Just a coincidence, she decided.
“Thanks,” she said, and took a long swig.
He didn’t respond, he just kept moving. He never flinched at the unseen movements nearby, as she did. If he was nervous, Eden couldn’t tell. Now and then, he changed direction for reasons she couldn’t fathom. In fact, her mind felt dull and spongy, entirely incapable of reasoning. Her sanity fell behind like a trail of crumbs.
At each mysterious croak from the dark recesses, Eden pressed her knees tight against Bramford’s neck. Her fears drove her to cling to him. To her delight, a soft, low murmur rumbled through him. It washed over her, calming her anxiety and yet, arousing her desire.
If he’d confused her before his transformation, she now found him as mysterious as this jungle. How could she even begin to understand someone as complicated as Bramford? Or trust her instincts after suffering Jamal’s betrayal?
A rat-a-tat-tat of loud squawks burst in the air with a colorful display of yellows and blues. Probably the last macaws, Ara ararauna, on Earth, Eden realized with awe. Something must have startled them. Then she heard a sharp sound from where they had taken flight.
“Did you hear that?” she said, yanking Bramford’s hair. “Something’s there.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Nothing,” he said, though she sensed his apprehension. He sniffed the air. “Storm coming.”
“What? How can you tell?”
“A lull in the sounds, the slight drop in temperature. Don’t you feel it?”
“I’m not receiving any data, remember?” Thanks to you.
“Before you would have noticed the signs.”
The sound of his voice soothed her so she tried to encourage him to talk.
“Really?” she said. “When was that?”
“About a million years ago, when you looked something like me.”
“Like you?”
Even uglier than now? And yet, Bramford wasn’t ugly, was he? He was raw and sexy. Maybe she wouldn’t have looked so bad.
“I bet you would have been one hell of a she-cat,” he said, and she was glad he couldn’t see the pleasure creeping into her face.
Thunder rolled overhead, trailing a whip of lightning through the trees. Eden shrieked as it cracked nearby. The lack of weather alerts from her sensors unnerved her.
Bramford laughed. “Okay, maybe just a she-kitten. But you’ll learn.”
“Not without a Life-Band,” she said.
“Just watch and
listen,” Bramford replied, with surprising patience.
“To what?”
“It’s all right in front of you, Eden, if you’re willing to open your mind.” Bramford held out his hand to catch the falling rain. “Trust me, your basic instincts are more reliable than any Life-Band.”
Well, maybe if she had Bramford’s new mix of DNA she also might understand nature. Then she thought of Aunt Emily, living shuttered for decades inside The Homestead, her family home. How had she opened her mind to a world beyond her doors?
To make a prairie it takes a clover
and one bee,—
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do
If bees are few.
But Eden wasn’t prone to imagining. Nearly two decades of oxy drips had drowned out the impulse.
And yet, an idea slowly formed in her mind, as she began to relax to the rocking motion of his shoulders that kneaded her tired legs. It was as if no actual separation existed between her and Bramford, like one mixed-up creature, half-natural-Pearl, half-beastly-Coal. Like a centaur from Greek mythology, she thought, unable to suppress a giggle.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t understand.” If only you could.
Bramford grunted. He didn’t even pry. The selfish beast simply dropped the subject and ignored her.
They were nothing at all like two halves of a centaur. More like creatures from different planets.
Rain cascaded down through the levels of trees, falling intermittently on Eden. Cool and refreshing, it washed away the broiling heat. She leaned back her head, catching the droplets in her mouth. Like tears from heaven, she thought.
Soon, her perch grew wet. Bramford caught her waist as soon as she began to slip. He gave her a gentle squeeze before he released his grip. It was a small gesture, maybe even timid. He seemed to communicate something. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.
Eden began to analyze other unspoken signals that had passed between them. Could he tune into her, as if she were connected to and an important part of the world around them?