Destiny had followed that strange inner conviction all the way to India, where it had become a directional pull. Ethan’s in trouble, it told her. That way.

If she was losing her mind anyway, she might as well be crazy in style. She’d rented a small private plane and started flying that way. She’d worried about crossing the border into Pakistan, but that wasn’t where her directional sense led her. Instead, it sent her farther into India, and away from cities, towns, and villages. The terrain got wilder and wilder, shifting from scrubby hills to forest to jungle. And then the pull shifted as well, from forward to downward.

Here, that inner sense told her. Ethan’s here.

And he was.

He was battered, bruised, and bloody. His uniform was torn and muddy, and he looked pale and exhausted. But he was alive.

She threw open the door and helped him scramble into the passenger seat. He slammed the door and turned around, firing his gun in rapid succession.

They were taking fire, too. What in the world was going on?

Well, she wasn’t going to waste time wondering. Destiny accelerated for a take-off. “Buckle up!”

Ethan fumbled to do so. When she took a quick glance at him, she saw that he wasn’t just distracted by providing covering fire; his left hand was bleeding. She snapped the restraint into place.

“Thanks, mudpuppy.”

“Any time, jarhead.”

The plane lifted off and began rapidly gaining altitude. Just a few seconds more, and they’d be out of range of gunfire…

“Evasive maneuvers!” Ethan yelled. “They’ve got an RPG!”

Adrenaline flooded her system as she swung the plane sharply around. Even a glancing strike from a rocket-propelled grenade would take down this little civilian aircraft. It was intended for fun, not for war.

A black streak of a missile barely missed the wing. She veered away. An instant later, the grenade exploded in midair in a burst of flame. The shockwave buffeted the tiny plane, knocking it off-course. She struggled to regain control.

“Veer left!” Ethan shouted.

Destiny tried, but the plane responded just a hair too slowly. The second grenade clipped the right wingtip, sending the plane into a spiral dive.

She couldn’t pull it up. Nothing seemed to be responding. Her heart pounding, she began to pray aloud as she wrestled with the controls.

A warm, strong palm pressed into her back. Calmly, Ethan said, “You’ve got this, Destiny. We’re out of range now. Just fly the plane.”

Her panic receded. She did know how to deal with this. Taking a deep breath, she managed to get control of the plane and pull it out of the dive. Compensating for the damaged wing, she sent the plane skimming over the jungle, back the way she’d come. After a few tense moments, she was able to relax. The plane might not be in the best of shape, but it should get them back.

“No pursuit,” Ethan reported as he peered back. “I think they might’ve had to go fetch the pilots, and by then we were out of sight.”

“Who were those people?” Destiny asked. “They didn’t look Indian.”

“They’re not,” Ethan replied. “I’m pretty sure they’re Apex.”

“What?” She groaned. “Them again! I thought we were done with them.”

“Not quite yet.” He quickly described what had happened to him and his team.

“Those bastards,” Destiny swore. “Don’t worry, Ethan, we’ll rescue your men before Apex can do anything to them. We’ll call in my team as soon as we get to the airport. I don’t want to risk it now. Apex is probably monitoring all frequencies, trying to figure out where we are.”

“Good plan.” He sounded more tired than relieved.

She glanced at him. He had his forearm pressed to his side, bracing it. She knew that position all too well. “Did you break some ribs?”

“Cracked, maybe. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine once I tape them.”

She also knew the automatic dismissal of any injuries that weren’t literally incapacitating. He’d said he’d hit his head and been unconscious for a while after he fell into the river, so he must have a concussion too. Once they got to the airport, she’d radio Protection, Inc., then drag him to a doctor and have him looked over while they were waiting for her team to arrive.

“Any other injuries you haven’t bothered to mention?”

“Well, this, but you saw it already.” He held up his left hand. The fingertips were bloody and bruised. It looked incredibly painful.

“Did someone stomp on it?”

“Nah. Stuck a knife under my fingernails.”

Destiny saw red. “Who did that?”

“Some guy named Ayers. He was the leader of the group that ambushed my team.”

“I’ll kill him,” Destiny swore.

“My team, my hand. I get dibs.”

“That’s fair,” she said reluctantly. “Man, Ethan. You’ve really had a rough day.”

He chuckled. “It improved a lot once you showed up. Hey, how’d you know to come here?”

She was incredibly tempted to lie. If it hadn’t been for the extremely recent proof that she was absolutely terrible at it, and also for the fact that she couldn’t think of anything even remotely plausible, she would have. Instead, she confessed, “I know how weird this will sound, but I had a feeling you were in trouble, and I followed it here. I flew into India—”

“Is that where we are?”

“Yeah. I told my team I was going there on vacation. I didn’t bring any backup because I thought I was out of my mind.”

“Huh. Well, you were right. I’m glad you trusted yourself enough to come. Nothing like that ever happened before?”

She shook her head. “Not remotely. In fact—”

The engine sputtered, sounding like a car running low on fuel. Destiny checked the fuel gauge, and was baffled to see it reading almost empty.

“Can’t be,” she muttered to herself. “It should have enough for four more hours!”

Then, with a sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach, she realized that shrapnel from the wingtip must have pierced the fuel tank. They’d been losing fuel as they flew, but it had blended invisibly with the water vapor and exhaust, so she hadn’t noticed.

“Fuel tank’s hit,” she said. “I have to make an emergency landing. See anything flat?”

“Just a lot of trees.”

“We’ve got about five more minutes,” Destiny said, trying to keep her voice steady. They had very little chance of surviving a crash into a lot of trees.

She scanned for anything but the dark green of thick jungle. Then she spotted an area of lighter green. It might just be a different type of tree, but it was the only thing she saw that even had a chance of being flat. She turned the plane toward it.

The engine sputtered and choked. Her heart sped up as she realized that they were going to go down in that light green area, whatever it was.

“Ethan, brace,” she ordered. “We’re going down.”

“But you—” he protested.

“I will too, but not yet. You brace now!”

“You can do this.” He cupped her cheek in one warm hand, letting her draw strength and courage from his trust. Then he braced his knees and elbows, and buried his face in his arms.

She could see the light green now, a small glade within the jungle. It would be a hard landing to make and they’d hit some trees for sure, but it was just barely possible. Destiny kept her touch light on the controls, tempted as she was to grab them hard. The plane bucked and lurched, and would have thrown them both out if they weren’t strapped in.

Lightly, lightly, she thought. Skim like a seagull over the water…

She’d lied to Ethan, she realized. She wouldn’t be able to land the plane and brace at the same time.

Keep the nose up, and touch down lightly, lightly, light as a feather…

The plane slammed into the ground, skidded to the side, and crashed into the trees. Her shoulder hit hard, then her head. She wasn’t knocked unconscious, but she was dazed, unable to react quickly. White smoke rose up from the engine, then a tongue of orange flame.

I have to get out, she thought. I have to get Ethan out.

But she couldn’t move. It was as if she was locked into a straightjacket.

Ethan moved fast enough for both of them. He unsnapped his belt, reached over and unsnapped hers, and tried to yank her out of her seat. But she was stuck tight. Crumpled metal had folded over her chest and knees. Her arms were pinned, so she couldn’t exert any leverage to free herself.

Swearing, he pulled harder. She didn’t budge. Then he fumbled under the seat, yanked out a crowbar from the tool storage compartment, and used that to pry the sheet metal away from her body.

The flames were coming closer. The heat was searing. Sweat poured down her face and chest. The plane could go up in a fireball at any second.

“Get out, Ethan,” Destiny begged him. “Forget me. Save yourself!”

“No!” Ethan yelled. “Never!”

He gave a desperate wrench with the crowbar, and the sheet metal moved. Destiny pushed with her feet as he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled. Her shirt tore and her skin was scraped, but she came free.

Together they leaped from the burning plane. Ethan tugged her toward the safety of the trees, but she saw her backpack dangling from the wreckage. It had survival equipment in it that they’d need. She grabbed it and yanked. It had been snagged on a sharp piece of metal and tore open, spilling some of its contents into the fire. She tucked it under her arm, clamping down on the torn part to prevent anything else from falling out, and bolted with him.

They got three steps into the jungle when the plane blew up. The shockwave of heated air knocked them both sprawling. Destiny looked back, worried that they’d have to get up and run if it started a forest fire. But the jungle was too damp for that, and there had been very little fuel left in the plane. The fireball went out, and the few patches of flame on the ground flickered, then died. In minutes, nothing was left but blackened metal and singed moss.

They lay in a tangle on the mossy ground, shaking with spent adrenaline. Ethan was pale beneath his tan, and the wounds in his head and hand were bleeding again. When he wrapped his arms around her, he left smears of blood on her skin.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I thought you’d never come free.”

“You saved me.”

“You saved me.”

She sighed, letting her head rest on his shoulder. It felt like something forbidden—don’t touch if you can’t commit—but his solid muscle and warmth was so comforting, and the rise and fall of his chest reassured her that he was safe and alive.

Destiny would have liked to lie there indefinitely, but they hadn’t flown all that far, and if she’d seen a landing area, any pursuit from Apex could have too.

As if Ethan had read her mind, he said, “I hate to say it, but we’d better get moving. That wreck is going to look like a bulls-eye from above.”

They reluctantly scrambled up. Ethan went back to the burned-out plane to see if he could salvage anything useful. While he was cautiously poking through the wreckage, Destiny did an inventory of what remained in the backpack. She still had several changes of clothes—the least important thing in it, though she couldn’t help being glad that she wouldn’t have to wear filthy rags around Ethan—a survival blanket, a compass, a lighter, a tiny sewing kit, a canteen, some granola bars, and a lightweight tin pot for boiling water. The medical kit was still there, but it had come open and most of the supplies were gone.

That was it. She’d lost her cell phone, most of her food and water, and her ammo box. The only bullets she had left were the ones remaining in the magazine.

And she’d lost her box of pills.

Her hand flew to her bra, where she always kept a few days’ emergency supply in a watertight packet. Her shirt had been ripped open, and her bra was torn as well. Fiona’s GPS transmitter was gone. And so were her pills.

The fear Destiny had felt at the thought that the plane would crash was nothing to the fear she felt now. She frantically patted herself all over, then retraced their steps from the plane at a crawl, searching for the little packet of gray-green capsules in the dark green moss. But it was nowhere to be found. It and the transmitter must have fallen to the floor of the plane when Ethan had dragged her from the wreckage, and been consumed in the fireball. Just like the box that had fallen from her backpack.

They were lost in the wilderness, probably being pursued by deadly enemies, and the one way her team could have found her had just been destroyed. And now the time bomb inside her had begun to tick.

Ethan looked up from his search of the wreckage. All he’d found that had survived the fireball was the crowbar and a hammer.

“Think we can use this?” he asked, holding up the hammer.

“I guess we could hit someone over the head with it.” She was amazed at how normal her voice sounded. Maybe she wasn’t such a bad liar after all…

He frowned. “Destiny? Is something wrong? I mean apart from, well, everything.”

She bit her lip. The absolute last thing she wanted him to know was what a freak she was—a literal freak, a freak of nature. But if she didn’t tell him, he’d find out for himself, and that would be worse. She might even become a danger to him.

“I… I lost something.” She indicated her torn shirt, only belatedly realizing that she was displaying quite a lot of cleavage. Ethan grinned. “Not my bra. My medication. I had some in my duffel bag, but it fell out. And some in my shirt, but that’s gone too.”

His smile faded. “Was that the, uh, female problem stuff? Is it dangerous for you to not take it? Or just unpleasant?”

He was probably imagining horrible cramps or nonstop bleeding. She wished it was just that. And she really didn’t want to have to explain then and there. She could wait another day, at least. Probably a couple. Maybe by then they’d be able to radio for help, and he’d never need to know. “It won’t kill me. Let’s not talk about it, it’s embarrassing.”

“No problem. But let me know if you need, I don’t know, a massage or a hot pack or anything. I promise not to ask any questions.”

Good, he did think it was cramps. And also, how sweet of him to offer! She was tempted to request a massage, just because. “Thanks. Where are you going to find a hot pack in the jungle, jarhead?”

“A Marine can improvise. Got any MREs in your backpack? I could use the heating element.”

“Ugh, no. I had some actual food, but most of it fell out. Want a granola bar?”

“I’m okay. I had a country captain chicken MRE earlier.”

“Yecch. Better you than me. Want some aspirin?”

“Yes, please.”

He looked over her half-empty medical kit with mild dismay, then shrugged and swallowed a few aspirin.

“The medical tape’s still there,” she said. “Shall I tape your ribs?”

He looked tempted, but shook his head. “Later. Let’s get some distance between us and the plane first. The last time I tried to hide out from Apex, I didn’t go far enough. And look what happened.” He held up his bloody, swollen left hand.

Destiny inwardly renewed her vow to kill the bastard who had tortured him.

They began to make their way through the forest, not heading in any particular direction other than “away from the very conspicuous crash site.” The jungle terrain wasn’t easy to walk in. They kept having to step over fallen trees, walk around bushes, and shove through thick vines that hung from the trees like spiderwebs. Monkeys chattered and swung from the vines, birds chirped and sang in the trees, and black millipedes the size of snakes scuttled away from their feet.

Normally she would have enjoyed a good hike through rough and interesting terrain, especially with Ethan. But she had no attention to spare for anything but looking out for danger, worrying about the loss of her pills, and trying to get as far away from the crash site as fast as possible so they could stop and she could tend to his injuries as best she could with her limited supplies. From Ethan’s silence, she suspected that he was equally wrapped up in worries, probably over his buddies.

After about an hour, she saw that he was pale beneath his tan, and had his jaw clenched so tight that it was probably giving him a headache. Despite the aspirin, he was obviously still in a lot of pain.

“Let’s take a rest,” she said. “Just a short one. Take off your shirt.”

“You move fast,” he teased, then gritted his teeth as he started to pull it off. It clearly hurt like hell for him to try to lift his arms above his head.

She helped ease off the shirt. His muscular chest and arms were covered with a striking pattern of abstract tattoos. But much as she’d wanted for years to get a look at him shirtless, she couldn’t take the time to appreciate the view now. His side was covered with a huge bruise nearly as black as the tattoos, making her wince in sympathetic pain. No wonder he’d been clutching his side!

She taped his ribs, and was glad to hear him sigh in relief when she was done.

“Thanks,” he said. “That’s better.”

All the same, he winced as he tried to get his shirt back on. She helped him tug it over his arms and chest. And there went her chance to look at them. Oh well. It would only frustrate her to look but not touch.

Ethan’s voice interrupted her reverie on his body. “Hey—I hate to ask, but would you mind if I carried your gun? You can turn into a tiger, so…”

“Yeah, you’re right. That evens up the firepower.” She handed it over, wondering at herself as she did so. Tiger or not, she’d normally hate to go unarmed when there might be armed enemies after them. But giving up her weapon to Ethan didn’t make her feel any less safe. In fact, she felt more safe knowing that he was watching her back.

“How far are we from civilization?” Ethan asked. “Apex doesn’t count.”

“No, I’d hardly call them civilized. By foot, at least a couple days. Hiking over this terrain, with hills and valleys and all, might be more like a week.” Anxiety made her belly clench. A week without her pills!

He also looked worried. “I think we should go back. God knows what Apex might do to my men in a week. But I think we’re only a day or two away from their base.”

She calculated the time they’d spent in the plane, and nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“Between you and me and your gun, we could ambush some guards and break into the base. Even if we can’t break anyone else out, if we get to a radio, we could call for help.”

“Sounds good,” she said with relief. One or two days without her pills—she should be able to handle that. And then he’d never need to know. “Let’s make a wide circle, so we don’t run into anyone who finds the crash site, and start making our way back to the base. We can camp out in the jungle tonight, and hopefully we’ll be there the day after.”

They used her compass and recollected flight path to figure out which way the base was, and set off. Despite the urgency of their situation, she couldn’t help enjoying walking through the jungle with him. She could almost imagine that they were dating, maybe hiking on the adventure vacation she was supposedly on.

Yeah, she sighed to herself. Wouldn’t that be nice.

They camped at dusk. Not daring to make a fire lest the smoke or light should draw pursuers, they shared out the granola bars and some water, leaving enough for the next day.

Destiny could have eaten their entire supply of granola bars and had room for more—she could’ve eaten a country captain chicken MRE, and been grateful to have it—but Ethan only nibbled at his, then set it aside.

“Don’t save it for me,” she said. “You need your strength.”

“I ate earlier, remember? I’ll finish it for breakfast.” He stuffed it in his pocket, then leaned against a tree. “I’ll take first watch.”

She lay down beneath the survival blanket, but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time she started to drift off, something would awaken her, some screeching monkey or yelping creature or worrying thought.

Tomorrow would be her first full day without her pill since she’d been eleven. She’d never had a problem taking them in the Army—she’d gotten a note from a helpful doctor claiming they were for female problems. Plenty of women took actual birth control pills for those exact reasons, and she wasn’t the only one who was careful to keep extra stashes in case of emergencies. She thought nothing much would happen in one day, but the truth was that she didn’t know how long she could go, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. Maybe she should tell him…

…only Ethan had enough problems, didn’t he, without also having to worry about her? He should have been starving after hiking all day, no matter how much he’d eaten earlier. He was probably in so much pain that it had spoiled his appetite. She should have pushed him to take more aspirin. But they didn’t have much left. Maybe he was right to save it for later. At least he had some pills, even if they weren’t much…

Fear stabbed unexpectedly through her heart. What if she hurt him?

I won’t, Destiny told herself fiercely. I’ll feel it coming. If I feel like I can’t control myself, I’ll just run off into the jungle. Anyway, it’s just one day. Maybe two. That’s all…

“Destiny?” Ethan had his hand on her shoulder. The night was dark, but she could see his pale face in the moonlight. “Your watch.”

“Thanks. See anything?”

“A snake or two. Looked like they were headed out to cuddle up with you.”

“Ugh!”

He chuckled. “I shooed them away.”

“Appreciate it. Get some sleep. I’ll keep the snakes off.”

He curled up under the blanket. In the quiet of the jungle night, she could easily hear the slight roughness of his breathing.

He’s not just injured, he’s sick, she thought. Coming down with a cold or something. Not surprising after he got chucked into a river… Still, poor Ethan! He ought to be in bed with chicken soup. Once they finished their mission and got back home, she’d make him some herself…

…but no, he was still on active duty. He’d have to go straight back to his unit, with barely a chance to say good-bye, and definitely none to wait around for six-hour chicken stock to finish simmering on her stove.

She sighed. Well, he’d go straight to the infirmary, and be taken care of even if she couldn’t do it herself. Destiny pulled the blanket a little closer around her shoulders and resumed her watch.

In the morning, Ethan once again tried to stuff his granola bar in his pocket. He caught her raised eyebrows and flushed, guilty as a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’m just not hungry.”

“You are not trying to hike all day on an empty stomach. You’ll keel over. Look, I know you’re not feeling great—”

“I’m fine,” he said instantly.

She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “But you have to eat. Take some more aspirin.”

He shook out a few more, swallowed them, then finished the granola bar, chewing and swallowing as if he had a gun to his head. “Let’s go.”

They took a compass bearing, then set out. The jungle noises seemed oddly sharp, colors unusually bright, smells extra-distinct. Had everything been this… vivid… the day before?

You’re imagining things, Destiny said to herself. She didn’t dare address her tiger.

For a few hours, they made good time. Then she noticed that Ethan was slowing down. She took a closer look at him. He was sweating, which wasn’t surprising in the jungle heat, but his face was pale.

“Let’s take a break,” she suggested.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You don’t look fine, jarhead.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, then broke into a coughing fit that nearly doubled him over.

“Sit down. You need a break.”

“I’ll be fine.” He straightened up, swayed, then braced his feet firmly on the ground. “Come on.”

“How much good are you going to be breaking into the base if you’re sick and—”

His eyes widened in alarm at something he saw over her shoulder. “Drop!”

As he snatched her gun from his belt, she threw herself to the ground. There was a gunshot, the sound of something breaking, and a yell.

“Freeze!” a male voice shouted.

She looked up from the ground. One of the men who’d been manhandling Ethan at the airfield was holding a pistol on her. Ethan had her gun aimed at him. A tranquilizer rifle with a shattered stock lay on the ground between them. Destiny supposed Ethan had shot it right out of their attacker’s hands.

“Good shot, Ethan,” she said.

“Not really,” he replied, not taking his gaze off the enemy. “I should’ve gone for his head.”

“I guess you’re from Apex,” said Destiny to their enemy. “Give it up. You’re outnumbered. Ethan’s got a gun and I can turn into a tiger.”

“Try it,” the Apex agent replied. “I can shoot it in the head before it can spring. McNeil, drop your weapon.”

“You drop your weapon, Kritsick,” Ethan retorted.

Neither of them moved.

Rip his throat out!

Her tiger’s snarl was so unexpected and vicious that Destiny barely repressed a start.

He’s got a gun aimed at my head, Destiny replied silently.

Her tiger snarled again, long and low and predatory. We can move faster than a puny human. Rip out his throat and drink his blood!

Gross, Destiny replied. Stop talking. You’re distracting me. Don’t worry, we’ll get our chance to fight.

Kritsick broke the silence. “Ever heard of a daeodon?”

“No,” said Destiny. “Ever heard of a Sig Sauer? That’s what Ethan has aimed at your head. He’s a Recon Marine; he won’t miss. Kneel down and put your hands on your head.”

The Apex agent went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’s an extinct mammal from the Miocene era. A wild boar the size of a rhinoceros. They call them ‘hell pigs.’”

“So?” Destiny inquired. “You got one on a leash?”

Kritsick bared his teeth in a nasty smile. “I’m a daeodon shifter. My hell pig gives no quarter. You two surrender now, and I’ll take you in safe and sound. Make me show you my daeodon, and you come in trampled or chomped or tusked half to death. Or all the way to death. He’s a little hard to control.”

“Destiny?” Ethan called. “Is there even such a thing as extinct animal shifters?”

“I came across one once,” she admitted. “A saber-tooth tiger. He was running a gang in Santa Martina. I’ve never heard of any other extinct shifters before. We only found out what he was when he shifted and bit Rafa. I shifted and bit him, and he took off. Never saw him again.”

“Hugo O’Dell?” inquired Kritsick.

“Yeah,” Destiny said. “That’s the guy.”

“He was one of ours. An early experiment, back when we were using common criminals.” The agent gave a humorless chuckle. “He made the mistake of running away from us. We took care of him. Now do you believe me?”

“Who cares,” Ethan said. “If you don’t get down on your knees right now, you’re a dead man. Your hell pig can’t survive a bullet in the head.”

“Sure it can,” said Kritsick, and shifted.

One moment Destiny was looking at a man in jungle fatigues; the next instant, she was faced by the hell pig. Just like he’d said, it was a wild boar the size of a rhinoceros. But he hadn’t mentioned the bulging armor plates around its face, the ivory tusks, or the maddened red eyes. She’d never seen anything like it, saber tooth tiger included. That had just seemed like an unusual type of big cat. This was a true monster, a prehistoric beast that should never walk the earth.

Ethan didn’t flinch. His gun was already leveled at the beast, and he fired. There was no way he could have missed—not him, not with a creature that size and at that distance.

But the hell pig only shook itself. If the bullets had wounded it, Destiny sure couldn’t see any blood. It let out a ferocious bellow, pawed the ground, and charged straight at her.

Destiny wasted no time waiting for it. She summoned her tiger—was it her imagination, or did the big cat seem to spring eagerly to the forefront?—and leaped over the charging daeodon’s head. Four tiger paws landed on its back. She tried to dig in her claws, but they scrabbled uselessly over its back. It seemed to have some sort of armor just below its skin. Her claws left bleeding scratches, but they were very shallow. She couldn’t even get enough of a grip to hold on.

She bent her head and closed her strong tiger’s jaws over the back of the hell pig’s neck, and bit down as hard as she could. But her teeth met the same resistance her claws had. She left shallow scratches, no more.

The hell pig let out a bellow and shook itself. Destiny went flying, and slammed into a tree. The impact left her breathless on the ground.

The daeodon turned, swinging its heavy head from side to side. A long rope of saliva dangled from its tusked jaws.

Yecch, Destiny thought. What’s worse than getting tusked to death by a prehistoric pig? Getting drooled on by a prehistoric pig, then tusked to death.

Ethan fired at the thing, three times in rapid succession. She hadn’t been counting the shots, but he couldn’t have many left. And he was wasting them. The hell pig just twitched its flanks like it was beset by flies.

She shifted back to her woman’s form and shouted, “Stop! It has armor!”

Ethan stopped shooting. She was going to suggest that he climb a tree when he bolted toward her. The short run took way more out of him than it should have, leaving him gasping. But he stood over her, feet braced, face white, her Sig Sauer aimed straight at the hell pig.

The daeodon looked from him to her. Its little piggy eyes gleamed red with triumph. It snorted, then bellowed. And then two thousand pounds of prehistoric monster came straight at them, shaking the earth beneath its cloven hooves.

Because Destiny was so close, she could see the adjustment Ethan made to his aim. He breathed out, and didn’t breathe in lest even that disturb his aim. Then he fired.

Two thousand pounds of prehistoric monster crashed down dead at his feet.

For a moment, even the jungle seemed to hold its breath with Ethan. Then he breathed in, and the trees exploded with the cries of birds and screeches of monkeys. She gave a quick glance at the hell pig to make sure it was really dead. It was. Ethan had hit it in the tiny, piggy eye—a one-in-a-million shot at such a small target, and a moving target at that.

“That was one hell of a shot,” said Destiny. “Good work, jarhead.”

Ethan started to reply, but a coughing fit cut him off. He took a step toward her, then swayed like he was about to pass out.

“Ethan!” She scrambled to put her arm around him and support him. He was still holding the gun, which she gently took from his hand and replaced in her holster. He leaned his cheek against hers. It felt like he’d just pulled his head out of an oven.

He took a deep breath, then straightened. “Sorry. I’m all right. Just got a bit dizzy for a second.”

“You are absolutely not all right,” Destiny retorted. “You’re burning up. What do you have? Some kind of tropical bug?”

“I doubt it. It wasn’t tropical where I came from.” Reluctantly, he said, “When I got tossed in the river, I was unconscious for a while. I breathed in a lot of river water, and then I lay in it for hours. I guess I caught a cold.”

“Uh-huh. That wouldn’t give you a fever like that. I think it might be pneumonia.”

Ethan stepped away from her, then staggered. He compromised by leaning against a tree. “Does it matter what it is?”

Destiny had obviously spent way too much time with paramedics: Shane and Justin and Catalina on her team, and of course Ellie. She’d learned more than she’d ever wanted to know about all sorts of nasty illnesses just from being in the same room while they were chatting. As a result, she had two different answers to his question, and she didn’t like either of them.

“Yes, it matters. A cold will go away on its own. If it’s pneumonia, you probably need antibiotics.”

“Do we have antibiotics?”

She went to her backpack and rummaged through the medicine kit. “Not anymore.”

Having to go through her clothes reminded her that she was naked. And she’d been cuddling Ethan while she was naked. She’d been so worried about him that it had barely registered, but one glance up at his appreciative face showed that it was registering with him. Her face flamed, and not from fever. She scrambled into some clothes.

“And the other thing,” she said once she was dressed. “If it is pneumonia, that’s serious. You need to rest, not trek through the jungle all day and then stage a raid on an enemy base.”

He shrugged. “Whatever it is, we can’t stay here. They’ve obviously tracked us down. What if the hell pig has ten little piggy buddies?”

“Can’t be close ones, or they’d already be here.” But she agreed with Ethan. “Let me grab his gun… oh.”

Unlike ordinary shifters like herself, the daeodon shifter hadn’t shredded his clothing when he’d shifted. His clothes were simply gone. The saber tooth tiger Destiny had fought in Santa Martina had also transformed without losing his clothes, and reappeared in human form fully dressed. Lucas, a dragon shifter, could do that too, and even take small items like his hoard bag—or a gun—with him. Sure enough, though the broken tranquilizer rifle Kritsick had dropped still lay on the ground, the pistol he’d held when he’d transformed was gone.

“Goddammit,” Destiny muttered, returning to Ethan. “We could’ve really used the ammo. Though since you can drop a charging hell pig with one bullet, maybe we don’t need a lot more. I still can’t believe we fought a hell pig.”

“Me neither.”

“And you’re right, we don’t want to meet his buddies, if he has any. Lean on me.” She offered him her shoulder. When he hesitated, she said, “If I were sick, you’d let me lean on you, right?”

“Wouldn’t have to. I’d carry you,” he muttered, but put his arm around her shoulders. For the sake of his pride, she neglected to point out that with her shifter strength, she was quite capable of carrying him, though probably not for a long distance.

“I don’t think we should head for the base,” Destiny said. “Not quite yet. Not if they’ve got people this hot on our tail. We’d probably get caught in a pincer: one group behind us, and one group ahead.”

“And I’m in no shape for it. I admit it. I’m not that proud.”

“That proud is just another word for stupid.” She pointed at a stream. “Let’s get our feet wet. Kill the scent.”

He nodded, and they took off their shoes, tied them around their necks by the laces, and waded into the stream. It turned into a wider creek, then split off into tributaries. Every time it forked, she took a branch at random. They were risking getting hopelessly lost, but they had to shake off their pursuit, and shifters were liable to track them by scent.

She was sure he was trying to take as much of his own weight as he could, but his arm was heavy across her shoulders, and his body was like a furnace. Every now and then, he broke into a cough that sounded like something was tearing inside his chest.

Despite the heat of the jungle, Destiny felt cold. Ethan was dangerously ill, they had no medicine, they were pursued by dangerous and powerful enemies, and they were hundreds of miles from help.

And she was about to lose control.