As their numbers grew, Gregory knew that Calder’s hope of keeping peace among the escaped Casus wouldn’t work. As much as his kinsmen wanted their species to return to power, they would simply tear each other apart in a bloodthirsty battle for the ancient crosses, seeing as how Calder had promised to significantly reward those who found a Marker and delivered it safely into Ross Westmore’s possession. Westmore was another mystery in Calder’s scheme—one they knew next to nothing about. All he and Royce had been told before coming across was that the mysterious Westmore—whose species was unknown—would be their contact man once they made it into this realm, and was to be entrusted with any Markers that they obtained. Though they’d had brief contact with a few of Westmore’s men, they’d yet to meet the man himself, and Gregory couldn’t deny that his curiosity had been piqued. After all, Westmore was not only helping to orchestrate their return to power, but had also managed to infiltrate one of the most secretive organizations in history, using their money to fund the Casus hunts.
As far as Gregory was concerned, the guy was either a genius…or completely insane.
Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest, wondering if this mysterious Westmore would agree with Royce’s prediction that catching Saige wouldn’t be easy. “You know, I was always told that you held too much respect for the Merrick.”
Friesen snorted. “I don’t respect them, but I know better than to underestimate them.”
“You shouldn’t waste your time. It’s obvious that they’re no match for us.”
Lifting his right hand, Royce rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s thinking like that, Gregory, that makes you a liability. Among other things,” he muttered. Turning away from the doorway, he paced toward the threadbare sofa slumped against one wall, then back again, past the single archway that led to the bedroom, where a stained mattress lay on the floor.
“You actually think we’ll have trouble taking her?” Gregory asked, snuffling a dry laugh under his breath. “A woman? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“She’s not exactly alone anymore, is she? Raptors are some of the most bloodthirsty breeds there’s ever been.”
Gregory curled his lip. “Don’t embarrass yourself by actually sounding afraid of him.”
“The problem with men like you,” Royce warned, slanting him a disgusted glare, “is that you always fail to realize the difference between fear and intelligence.”
“You’re starting to sound cranky, Royce.” Taking the towel from around his neck, Gregory tossed it into the sink and slicked his hair back from his face, then bound it into a ponytail with the elastic band he kept around his wrist.
Tired of wasting his time on the obstinate ass, Gregory turned to leave, only to be caught short when Royce grabbed hold of his shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Shrugging off Royce’s hold, he flashed him a sharp smile. “All this chatting has worked up my appetite.” The words were meant to incite, but there was an undeniable truth to them. His cock was already hardening at the thought of satisfying his hunger, anticipation thickening like a feral syrup in his veins.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for tonight?”
“They were just a snack,” he drawled, his mouth kicking up at the corner with a cocky grin as he headed toward the door. “Now I’m ready for the main course.”
“We need to get back to the bar and keep an eye out for her. And if you don’t stop picking off the locals,” Royce called out, “we’re going to have an angry mob on our hands.”
With one last glance over his shoulder, Gregory could see just how badly Royce wanted a go at him, and his grin spilled into a slow, satisfied smile. “Then I guess it’ll be just like old times.”
CHAPTER FIVE
North Coroza
IT TOOK ALMOST an hour for Saige and Quinn to reach the crowded neighborhood where Javier Ruiz lived with his brothers. Night had spilled over the jungle in a warm, heavy pour of darkness, the last streaming shades of color finally fading from the bruise-colored heavens. Despite her continued assurances that the Casus couldn’t possibly attack them in such a populated area, Quinn kept a vigilant eye on the narrow, winding streets, as if expecting the obscene creature to suddenly emerge from the thickening shadows.
Watching him from the corner of her eye as they made their way down the weathered, cobbled road, Saige could sense that he had questions about what she was doing in Brazil. But Quinn was biding his time, his focus for the moment centered more on their surroundings than anything else. Not nearly as patient herself, Saige plagued him with questions about her brother’s awakening, and learned that Ian had used the cross she’d found in Italy to kill the Casus who’d been hunting him. Her mother, who had kept her maiden name of Buchanan for herself and her children, had heard the term “Arm of Fire” from her grandmother, but it wasn’t until Quinn explained how the cross had literally transformed Ian’s arm into a fiery weapon that Saige had understood what the term meant. She also learned that her brother had somehow soaked in the creature’s thoughts at the time of its death. He’d not only “seen” that more of the Casus had already escaped from their holding ground, but that they were also after the Markers themselves.
Saige absorbed the information with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, thinking of the warning the second Marker had given her just that morning.
Enemies are coming who will take me from you.
Throughout the day, her conscience had plagued her for involving Jamison Haley in her problems, and knowing that it was the Casus who were seeking the Markers only increased her sense of guilt. If the monsters discovered she no longer had the ancient talisman, they could very well conclude that she’d given it to the young archaeologist—which meant that she’d put his life in extreme danger.
Damn you, Haley. You should have just told me no.
Any other person would no doubt have done just that, if asked for a favor as bizarre as the one she’d begged from Jamison. But the endearing Brit was one of those rare few who actually believed that sometimes things really did go bump in the night—things that humanity was better off not knowing about. As such, he’d believed her when she’d gone to him for help.
He also had a problem saying no to females who asked him for favors, which she’d ruthlessly used to her advantage.
And yet, as horrible as Saige felt for exploiting Jamison’s soft side, there was still a tiny voice in her head arguing that she’d done the right thing by sending him to Colorado with the cross. If Ian was right, and the Casus were after the Markers, then protecting the cross was the only thing that really mattered, regardless of the risk to herself and the people she cared about—and she knew that if Quinn were aware of what she’d discovered, he’d feel the same way.
The intense Watchman definitely seemed like the type of man who put his job above all else. Even though she obviously frustrated the hell out of him, he remained intent on keeping her alive…keeping her safe. As they headed through