She looked up to see a pair of gold eyes staring at them from where the animal stood just inside the dark cover of thick vegetation.
She couldn’t fight anything with claws and teeth yet. Tristan was likely in the same shape until he fully healed.
She whispered to him, “I say we risk me standing unless you can do your monkey whisperer thing with what’s staring at us.”
Tristan spoke loud, not even trying to shield his words. “There’s nothing I can say to deter a demon.”
Another demon? She couldn’t prevent the tremble that shook her body at the idea of facing another fanged demon in her weakened state.
The golden eyes narrowed, then a black jaguar stepped into the clearing and raised up on his hind legs as energy shed across his body. He shifted into a man.
“Storm?” She couldn’t believe her eyes or stop the quick smile that touched her lips.
No doubt about it. A naked, and furious, Storm.
He crossed his arms over his chest, not the least concerned over his lack of clothing.
Tristan’s body tensed. His grip tightened.
“It’s okay. I know him,” Evalle mumbled to Tristan, a bit distracted. She tried not to look at Storm’s profile, but her eyes had a mind of their own and kept wandering below his navel while she struggled to push up off Tristan’s lap. Working part-time at the morgue in Atlanta, she’d seen plenty of male bodies, but not one so well . . . packaged. Literally.
Black hair fell dangerously around the copper skin covering wide shoulders. Bunched muscles curved and cut the lines of his chest where he crossed his arms, and more rippled along his abdomen when he breathed down to where . . . a loincloth appeared?
Storm glanced down at the brief length of what looked like buckskin covering his lower parts, then glared at Tristan. “Naked doesn’t bother me at all. But I can see whyyouwould be uncomfortable with the comparison.”
Evalle looked back and forth between the men. Had Tristan put that loincloth on Storm?
Tristan helped Evalle to her feet and shrugged. “It should worry you to walk around naked . . . with so little to show.”
Storm took a step toward Tristan, who turned toward him. Both bodies pumped with aggression.
Evalle had endured all the fighting she could for one day. “I’m in no mood to watch you two play mine’s bigger.”
Tristan smiled. “It’s not necessary. I already know which one’s bigger.”
Storm stopped, but countered with, “Must be true what they say about the strides they’re making with implants.”
Before that got out of hand again, Evalle broke it up. “I say we get out of here before anything else attacks us.”
Storm asked in a wisecracking voice, “What? Didn’t enjoy the way he was mauling you? And who let him out of his cage?”
“He wasn’t mauling me . . .” Her voice fell off when she caught the cold fury in Storm’s eyes. She wasn’t about to admit she had unintentionally helped Tristan escape. “We were on our way back to Atlanta and—”
“I was protecting her.” Tristan moved closer to Evalle.
Storm eyed her knee where skin hadn’t covered all the raw areas still healing. “Impressive job of protecting her. If I hadn’t shown up she’d have been dead before she reached the next town.”
Tristan hooked his arm around her in a possessive way that slid under her skin like sharp needles.
Unable to move away, she hissed at him, “Let go of me.”
“No.”
“Let go of me or I’ll hurt you,” she whispered.
“You didn’t mind me carrying you into the lake for a bath.”
She couldn’t believe Tristan had said that and clearly for Storm’s benefit. If she hadn’t still been so unsteady on her one leg he would be sprawled on his butt. “Get your hands off me.”
