“He’s with Ajax. I heard the birds talking about it.”
I stared at him, speechless. The birds talking? All those whispers I’d heard in the jungle hadn’t been my imagination after all. But that wasn’t what disturbed me most. “Ajax? Jaguar? Are you sure?”
“Oh yes, miss, sure.”
I sank to the bed. Balthazar was so calm about it. Didn’t he know …? “Ajax is dangerous,” I said carefully. “He’s no longer himself. He’s a beast now. He’s regressed—do you know what that means?”
Balthazar frowned. He thought Jaguar was still the man who used to tell bedtime stories to Alice.
Something else he’d said came back to me. “Father went to the village to look for Montgomery.”
Balthazar shook his head. “He won’t find Montgomery there. Ajax is almost always—”
“In his cabin,” I finished. Father was headed in the wrong direction. By the time he came back, Jaguar might have killed Montgomery, if he hadn’t already.
I had to return to the cabin.
FORTY-ONE
I HURRIED TO THE barn, fear making my footsteps light as a sigh. Jaguar’s cunning eyes haunted my thoughts. Father believed the monster and Jaguar were one and the same, but I knew better. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still dangerous, though. He was clever as a man, with nothing to hold his predator instincts in check. As far as what the monster was, I could only form half-thought-out theories. A beast that had regressed on its own. Something that had escaped from Father’s laboratory. Something worse than I could dream.
Father had taken Duchess, the more nimble of the horses. Duke snorted and pawed the straw when I came in. I touched his velvety muzzle, seeing the fear in his white-rimmed eyes.
“We’ll find him,” I said, laying my hand on the white stripe across his nose. I picked up the saddle, staggering under its weight. It still smelled faintly of oil from the last time Montgomery had cleaned it.
“You shouldn’t go,” a voice said behind me. I nearly dropped the saddle. Edward stood in the doorway, breathing hard, looking disheveled. “It isn’t safe.”
I propped the saddle on my knee, trying to hoist it onto Duke’s back. I grunted with the effort. “Father’s gone to the village, but Montgomery’s not there. Jaguar has him.”
“It’s dangerous! Jaguar’s regressed. They all have. And the monster—”
“I’ve seen the monster,” I said. The memory of the claws curling around the bars in my bedroom window made my blood race. I thought of the darkened barn, the smell of the monster, the weight of its presence so close. “It could have killed me and it didn’t.”
“What makes you think it wasn’t toying with you? It doesn’t have reason, Juliet. It’s an animal.”
I straightened the saddle. “Hand me that girth strap,” I said.
He didn’t move. I pushed past him and ripped it down from the wall, then buckled it to one side and ran it under Duke’s belly. I looped the buckle and tugged as hard as I could, but the girth wouldn’t cinch.
“Blast!” I muttered.
Edward’s hand fell over mine. I swallowed, wishing he’d just stay away and make this easier on both of us.
“Don’t go.” The softness in his voice wrenched something deep inside me.
“I have to. I’m sorry. Montgomery …”
“There’s something I have to tell you.” His hand worked the buckle straps like it was me he wanted to be holding, and the saddle leathers were a poor substitute.
He needed to let me go. Because only then could I let him go.
“Don’t say it,” I said, almost a plea. “I love Montgomery.”
But deep inside, my God, I wanted him to say it. To kiss me feverishly and end this terrible pull between us.
His lips parted. My mouth fell open, struggling for breath. I’d been drawn to him since I first saw him, I realized. So desolate, so damaged. He was close enough that I could smell the salt on his clothes. Desire smoldered in his eyes and stole my breath, and I felt myself drifting closer.
Duke stamped his hoof, letting out a shrill whinny, and the moment was gone.
Edward let out a ragged breath. I fell back, startled by what I’d been about to do. My fingers fumbled to tighten the buckle.
“Then let me come with you,” he said.
I shook my head and pulled myself onto the horse, arranging the folds of my dress hurriedly around the saddle. “There’s only one horse.” But the truth was, if I stayed a moment longer in his presence, I wouldn’t trust myself not to fall into his scarred arms.
UNDER THE JUNGLE CANOPY it was already growing dark. The wagon road was easy to follow, but the leaves blended together in the dusky light, hiding the side paths that would take me to the cabin.
I only knew the general direction: close to the beach, near the winding stream. I hoped Duke would know the way to the cabin better than I. I found what looked like an opening and turned him toward it, but he stopped. I dug my boots into his sides, but he didn’t budge.