Chapter One

Kim Dunaid pushed through the dense jungle vines. They cut at her skin, digging deep in some places and breaking open cuts she'd sustained only the morning before— cuts she would have normally been able to heal over already if she were alone. She had to be away from the prying eyes of others. A branch shot back and caught her cheek. The sting told her it too had drawn blood.

The tour guide in front of her paused and glanced back at her, having the decency to appear apologetic, as he'd been the one to lose hold of the branch to begin with. She gave a tiny wave indicating she would be fine and wondered if the man was qualified to be leading the way. He'd told her the day before that the trails they'd be taking today were relatively clear.

Guess we have different views on clear paths, she thought as she glanced down at the shallow lacerations covering her hands and forearms. They would heal over relatively quickly, within a day or two without her drawing upon any of the gifts she'd been born with, but that wasn't the point.

Face it. You just might not be cut out for a life of this.

She was just happy the other guide had stopped talking. He'd been spinning tall tales of lions and other assorted animals such as polar bears that, according to him, roamed the rain forests near their current area. Some of the group of tourists that were also being led deeper and deeper into the wilds had looked frightened by the news of lions in the area. Kim just rolled her eyes at the guide's antics, knowing he was full of bologna.

She trudged along, wishing she'd brought more bug spray. So far she was averaging a bite a minute. At least it felt that way. A prickly vine dug into her lower leg, and she was thankful she was in long pants. Brad Durant, one of the other students on the trip, and someone she'd label a friend, had suggested she put the bottoms of her pant legs into the tops of her socks. He'd also advised her to avoid wearing shorts again. Wisely, she'd listened. He and his best friend Vic seemed like they'd been in a similar situation before and had come out of the other side experts.

When Professor Gisbert Krauss, had asked her, along with several other students, to go on a trip to South America for a few weeks, she'd thought it was the opportunity of a lifetime. She wasn't so sure now. They were there to study plants native to the area. Kim had an interest in studies reporting amazing results with the fungi in soil and leaf litter samples. She also had a curiosity about the antibacterial qualities associated with several of the plant extracts she'd recently began studying. The news of the finds was making its way through the scientific community, not quite at the rate she'd like, but moving all the same. It wasn't something that fascinated most people, but Kim enjoyed the work. She'd also enjoyed the chance to study in the Brazilian rain forest, or at least she had until recently.

The trip had started out fine but had become progressively odder from there on. Professor Krauss wasn't acting like himself. Back at the university he seemed even-tempered and basically boring. All in all, a nice man. Now, in the wilds of the jungle, he was agitated, and virtually impossible to talk to. Brad and Vic had noticed the change in the professor's demeanor as well. The three of them had spent the prior evening discussing the dramatic change in their professor's demeanor, unsure what had prompted the sudden personality shift.

It was probably stress and the heat. As Kim swatted at another bug, she had to wonder if she wasn't edgier than normal as well. Between the humidity and the insects, she found herself losing some of the joy she'd had about getting to study plants in the rain forest.

"Ten-minute break," yelled the very guide Kim wished would stay silent.

Kim withdrew her water bottle and took a sip, the heat turning her stomach. She wasn't hungry, and she hadn't had much in the way of an appetite since she'd arrived. The humidity and oppressive heat were partly to blame. Being unable to let her gifts free and stop masking who and what she was also contributed to her loss of appetite. Had she given in to what was natural for her, she'd have felt better than she had in years— especially being surround by so much nature, far from cities and pollution. Her kind—Fae—liked nature and thrived in it.

Pretending to be an ordinary, everyday human often sucked.

Krauss walked past, grumbling about the slow progress the group was making and how they'd never make it on time. She wasn't sure what the rush was. The plants weren't going anywhere and they had plenty of daylight left to burn.

Already today the professor had snapped at the guides and even turned his temper on the students—specifically Brad and Vic. Kim wasn't extremely close to any of her classmates because of her condition, but she didn't like seeing them berated. Vic and Brad were the two classmates she'd dare to label friends, but even that was weaker than she'd have liked. The trip to South America had them spending more time together than they had in the time she'd known them.

Brad had been the student Krauss had focused his foul mood on the most throughout the day. Brad took it in stride, but the act still bothered Kim. Krauss had been a mentor to her at the university, and it was disheartening to watch his metamorphosis.

Something was certainly off.

Kim swatted a bug on her neck and inwardly cursed about how edible she seemed to be to insects of late. She was an all-you-can-eat buffet, traipsing around, sweaty, and barely covered.

Standing near the roots of a kapok tree, Kim slapped away yet another bug before admiring the sheer size of the tree. A grown man could lie on the ground, stretching his arms and legs as far as he could, and still not come close to the width of the trunk. It didn't matter how many kapoks they passed on their expedition, each one amazed her.

Vic walked up beside her and tapped her arm lightly. "Here."

He held a bottle of bug spray out to her. His sandy-blond hair flopped over into his green eyes and his lips twitched as if he was trying not to laugh at her. "You're going to be miserable later."

"Thank you. You're always so prepared. I should have had you teach me to pack a backpack for hiking down here. You seem to have managed to fit everything needed in yours." She returned his slightly flirtatious look with one of her own, before glancing at his pack that was now leaning against his leg. Her time with Vic at the university had taught her he was a flirt by nature and harmless—though she strongly suspected he was hiding an inner badass. She sprayed herself and as she went to return the bottle to him, she found Vic watching her with a curious look on his handsome face.

"I so have bug guts smeared on my forehead right now, don't I?" she asked.

Vic simply stared at her. "No. You're perfect."

"Uh, thanks," she said, placing the bottle in his hand. The spray was supposed to have a fresh, clean scent. She begged to differ with the manufacturers.

Vic shook his head and pressed the bottle against her, his hand over hers. "Nah, hang onto it. I'll get it back from you later tonight." He grinned. "Besides, I kind of think the bugs only have a taste for you."

"It's because I'm so sweet," she said, before snorting at her own lameness.

Vic let out a soft laugh as he stared around. "Kim?"

"Yes?" The strongest feeling of danger rushed over her, nearly taking her to her knees. While she was masking what she was and suppressing her inborn gifts as much as she could, they were present enough to warn her that something bad was about to happen.

Vic touched her arm and then squeezed, moving his body in front of hers in a protective manner. "Something is wrong, Kim."

She sensed it too. Vic pulled her close to him and turned in a slow circle before letting her go and motioning for her to stay put. She wasn't keen on being left alone but nodded all the same. She glanced around, trying to figure out what had caused her inner alarms to go off.

The telltale sounds of the rain forest came to a grinding halt. It was a noisy place with all the birds, insects, and animals. To have sudden silence wasn't natural. The tension in the air carried with it the threat of danger. At first, she assumed a larger predator was near them, stalking them. It wouldn't have been the first time on their expedition that they had found themselves near a large animal. While there were no lions or polar bears, there were other large predators.

There was a loud thud followed by a groan from somewhere behind her. She spun around and found Professor Krauss watching an area off to their right. It took a moment for Kim to register what she was seeing, but when she came to her senses, a scream tore free from her. Vic was there, facedown on the ground, a dart sticking out of his upper left shoulder.

"Ohmygod, Professor Krauss, Vic is hurt!" Looking to her left, she gasped, her entire body went rigid as she found Brad lying on the ground, in the direction of a stream not far from them. He too was unconscious. "So is Brad!"

Kim turned and yet another from the expedition had fallen. Confused, she snapped her gaze to the professor. For a split second, it appeared as if Krauss was smiling. Something sharp pinched her neck and she swatted at it, assuming it was another damn bug.

Coming away with a tiny dart, Kim shook her head as her body began to feel heavy. Her vision blurred and she staggered. She reached out for the professor, screaming once more as blackness swallowed her whole.

Chapter Two

Wilson Rousseau lifted his head, and pain radiated throughout his body. His vision blurred, and for a moment he could have sworn he heard the cry of a female. One who needed help—one who needed him.

A distant, yet constant, low-grade sound emitted from something his captors liked to refer to as the "scrambler." Wilson knew enough about the guy running the show, Gisbert Krauss—an insane scientist with plans to create a master race of supernaturals—to know the device was more than effective. His guess was, it was built to prevent other supernaturals from sensing the presence of one another. If his hunch was right, it was some sort of modified L.R.A.D. —long-range acoustical device.

In short, it blocked his ability to mentally or electronically call out to the Immortal Ops (I-Ops), and the rest of the I-Ops' ability to call in. If his team was even still looking for him, which he was fast beginning to doubt. But if they were, static or silence would be all that greeted them.

Again, Wilson sensed the call of a woman in need of him, even when he shouldn't have been able to receive any form of mental links with the scrambler in place. Every sore, battered, and bruised ounce of him came alive with the need to go to the woman calling for help and to protect her. He struggled against the silver-coated chains digging into his wrists and ankles. He was a shifter male, and shifters had a serious allergy to silver.

While a recent mishap—or as he preferred to refer to it, a kiss from his friend's wife—had given him a slight resistance to silver, it wasn't enough to stop the effects of prolonged exposure. Melanie, the woman who had kissed him, had shared her Fae blood with him willingly. That meant she'd passed on a few Fae traits. Without what she'd done for him, the silver-coated chains would have cut through his limbs already. The chains still would if he dared to continue to push. Understanding that fact, Wilson still tugged, needing to get to the woman he sensed was in need of him.

He couldn't have stopped himself even if he wanted. The inborn need to help the female was that great.

As quickly as the call for help from the mysterious woman had come, it faded away. It was then Wilson realized he was more than likely hallucinating as a result of the injections he'd been given and the tests they'd done on him to date. Whatever his captors had injected him with dulled his senses, making his vision blur and his body weak.

At random times, he could feel the Fae power Melanie had passed on to him trying to surface, but the magik either wasn't sure what to do or knew he was clueless, so it didn't bother lending a hand. It probably figured he'd kill himself attempting to wield it. At this rate, he'd rather be dead than living like he was, so he was open to the idea.

Groaning, he moved his head around, trying to alleviate the kinks from his upper shoulders and neck. It didn't work. Beyond that, his throat was dry and his body was weak. The food wasn't fit for human consumption. Maggots infested the majority of it, and the rest was in a state of decomposition. After a certain point, Wilson had forced some of the food down only to find it coming back up quickly. Still, any nourishment he could get was needed if he planned on regaining his strength and escaping.

And he fully intended to escape.

In shifted form, Wilson wasn't too particular about what he ate or drank—that being said, his rat form wouldn't even eat the food his captors continued to try to pawn off on him. Considering his rat form tended to eat just about anything, that was saying a lot as to how dire his situation was.

He tipped his head back, giving in to the need to sleep. He was almost completely out when a scent like he'd never smelled before came to him, causing his cock to harden and his body to ignite with need. He looked up to find Krauss's men dragging an unconscious woman past his cell.

The fierce need to protect her overtook him. Wilson surged forth, yanking with all his might against his restraints, reaching for the woman. He knew then it had been her call for help that he'd tried to answer. She hadn't been a figment of his imagination or the result of drugs. She was real and she needed him.

"Get away from her!" Wilson roared, his body protesting his every movement, pain lancing through his extremities.

The men stalled and stared at him before sharing a curious look.

"He'll want to hear about this," one said.

The other nodded. "Definitely."

They continued down the hall, dragging the unconscious woman behind them. Wilson thrashed against his restraints, trying to get free, until the pain was so unbearable that he passed out cold.