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“Oh yes, miss, sure.”

I sank to the bed. Balthasar 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?”

Balthasar 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. “But Father went to the village.”

Balthasar 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.

“Come on, you old block,” I muttered.

A snarl tore through the trees. Duke’s muscles tightened between my legs, just a second of warning before he bucked and bolted down the path. I grabbed a fistful of mane and leaned in, just trying to stay on as leaves and branches slapped against my face.

I gasped as he suddenly lurched off the trail onto a narrow path. I leaned in closer, almost hugging his neck. Thin branches tore at my hair. I kept my eyes squinted to focus. A single low branch could throw me from his back.

The trail turned sharply into a valley. Each bounce nearly sent me flying. I gripped Duke’s sides with my ankles, tugging on the reins. But it was useless. He only slowed when we reached the bottom of the valley. His gallop gave way to a trot, and then the trot to a walk. I looked around helplessly.

We were totally lost.

A crash or rustle would sound behind us every few minutes, but when I turned there was nothing. My heart raced.

Another crash, closer.

My throat closed up. All I could think of were Alice’s feet dripping with blood. The three claws reaching through my window. The wet footprints on the porch. I squeezed my eyes shut, counting to five. Duke picked his way through the maze of trees, effortlessly. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find how dark the jungle had gotten. Dusk was falling quickly.

Ahead, something glinted through the trees, so brightly it burned white spots in my eyes. As we rode closer, I realized it was the reflection of the fading sun on a tin roof. My hands tightened on the reins. The roof was patchy, only a few shiny surfaces left.

Jaguar’s cabin.

Duke stopped at the edge of the clearing. I studied the quiet cabin, wondering what I’d find inside. Maybe a feral jaguar, ready to slash at whatever warm, breathing thing came through the door. I climbed off Duke and tied him to a post with a quick knot. I scrambled onto the wooden porch, feeling the same fear in my throat as I’d felt the first time. The three-toedtracks had long ago disappeared, but they lingered in my memory.


Tags: Megan Shepherd The Madman's Daughter Horror