[Atlantean's Quest 02] Exodus

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ATLANTEAN’S QUEST 2: EXODUS

An Ellora’s Cave publication written by

JORDAN SUMMERS

MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-521-X

Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

© Copyright Jordan Summers, June 2003.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave.

Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. USA

Ellora's Cave Ltd, UK

This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author/publisher permission.

Edited by
Briana St. James

Cover Art by
Christine Clavel

Warning:

The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. ATLANTEAN’S QUEST 2: EXODUS has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…

 Chapter One

After a hellish week away litigating, Jac entered her sleek apartment and tossed her mail on the entryway table. The Toronto business trip had been sheer torture, but she’d argued effectively enough to save her company millions. Those Toronto boys never knew what hit them, she was the best when it came to fighting and winning. And she always got what she wanted in the end. Just the same, sometimes being a top corporate attorney was a bitch. Jac dropped her suitcase and walked to the phone. The light on the answering machine blinked like the warning light on a bomb set to explode.

Damn, thirty un-played messages
.
I haven’t been gone
that
long
.

She pressed the button as she retrieved the mail. She was flipping through the envelopes when Rachel’s voice came on the line.

“Hey, Jac,” was all Jac registered of her friend’s message. Jac smiled for the first time that day as she realized how much she missed Rachel. Hopefully her friend would let her know what date she’d be returning.

Then Rachel screamed and the line went dead.

The envelopes slipped from her fingers and Jac stood by the phone, frozen, unable to breathe. Her mind went blank as the room filled with the harsh sound of a dial tone. Did she just hear her best friend die?

The answering machine clicked on to the next message, as Jac sank to her knees the room swimming around her. She was dimly aware of Brigit’s frantic voice informing her that Professor Donald had returned from the expedition—without Rachel. Jac’s jaw clenched, her stomach somersaulted, and something deep inside her spoke:

I knew it. I knew that low-down son-of-a-bitch was up to something.

Muscles at the base of her skull took that moment to tighten into the mother of all headaches. Jac shook as the overwhelming panic subsided, slowly being replaced by a fury the likes of which a volcano couldn’t contain. She spent the next hour phoning the museum and then the local authorities down in the god-forsaken jungle, but to no avail. Apparently one missing museum employee wasn’t worth their time.

Jac knew exactly what she had to do.

* * * * *

Two days, twelve inoculations, and fifteen hours on four different charter flights later, Jac’s plane circled the jungle runway. She had managed to get an expedition arranged by phone, but god only knew what she would find when she stepped off this tin can masquerading as an aircraft.

She was hot, sweaty, and pissed that the Professor had somehow managed to slip in and out of New York before she could get her hands on him. Rumsinger had a three- day head start on her. If he hurt Rachel, she’d make whatever country they were in expedite his happy ass back to New York so fast that his head would spin. Then Jac would personally castrate the bastard.

Hell, she’d cut his balls off here, if she could find him.

The plane landed with a thud, jarring her to the present, then skidded to a halt. There was nothing to see out of the tiny window other than miles and miles of trees. The pilot popped through the door and made his way down the aisle. His eyes wandered over Jac’s nipples and then to her mouth, before meeting her gaze. He reached out at the last second to retrieve her bag.

“I’ve got it, thanks.” Jac’s gaze pinned him.

The man gave a curt nod and backed away.

Jac stood, grabbing her pack in one fluid motion, and then lugged it to the door. She jumped over the step that had been placed on the ground. The air was thick enough to slice with a blade. Jac patted the knife strapped to her calf. Mosquitoes swarmed around her in a tiny cloud. Her Tomb Raider outfit supplied little protection against the carnivores. She reached in her pack and grabbed her can of OFF.

“Take that, you greedy little bastards.” She pressed down on the top and sprayed the killer mist over her arms and legs. “You’re not getting my blood.”

After the fumes cleared, Jac shaded her eyes and looked around. The guides she’d hired were a few hundred yards away and the tents were already set up. Jac lifted the backpack into place and began the short hike across the clearing. All the green made her miss her house plants back home. Jac sent a silent prayer to the heavens that Brigit remembered to water them. Considering how absentminded her friend was Jac didn’t hold out much hope she’d return to anything living. Brigit had left the day Jac had to attend Lunacon, a huge sci-fi convention in New York.

She’d walked several yards when the hair at her nape stood on end. Jac swung around, dropping her pack, the OFF can held out in front of her like a weapon.

“Just try something, whoever you are. Go ahead, make my day,” Jac growled in her best Dirty Harry voice, daring anyone or anything to come forward out of the jungle to face her. She felt antsy, anxious, as if the nerves in her body were firing all at once.

At this point, she could use a good fight to relieve some of the tension. She hadn’t worked out all these years to get her Linda-Hamilton-in-Terminator-2 arms for nothing.

A breeze swayed the tops of the trees. The green canopy tilted from side to side, like the waves on an ocean, the slight swooshing noise the only sound she heard. Jac scanned the shadowed line.

Nothing.

She stood there, one hand planted on her narrow hip, straining to hear that one snap or crunch that would give her enemy’s position away. “I didn’t think so.” Jac shrugged off the unease.

It was time to proceed on her mission to find Rachel, kick Donald Rumsinger’s ass, and get them both back to New York before the weekend was up.

* * * * *

From the protection of the trees, Ares watched the tall blonde. Her hair was cropped close to her neck and those long legs were bare except for a scrap of material at the top, covering her woman’s center. He’d never seen a woman in short pants. She was lithe and muscular, like a sleek jungle cat, and her breasts were compact and firm, as was his preference. Her composure was cool and aloof, daring anyone or anything to step into her territory.

Ares lips twitched. He was willing to accept that dare and more.

Queen Rachel’s memories had been true in every respect. She’d be angry with him if she had known he’d eavesdropped on them so easily. Ares hadn’t been able to help it. The woman known as Jac had intrigued him from the beginning, and now she was here, not more than a hundred yards from him. Tempting, calling, provoking.

Ariel the seer had been right. His mate had arrived.

It was time to
hunt
.

* * * * *

Jac reached the tents without further incident. She dropped her pack and stretched her arms over her head. Her muscles were sore from being cramped in little seats for hours. She’d managed to dismiss the weird foreboding, but couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into her back and over her limbs. Her body was still hyper sensitive, which did nothing for her peace of mind.

A handsome young guide, looking no more than twenty-five, approached her. “My name is Xavier.” He stuck out his hand. “You must be Ms. Ward.”

She nodded, grasping his palm to shake it.

Jac’s gaze ran the distance from his well-developed calves, up his long legs, to his wide muscular chest. Xavier’s eyes were a soft cocoa and his skin the finest sienna. He had rich black hair shorn to a short made-for-the-weather crop. His lips were full and sensuous as they split into a dazzling white smile.

Jac’s clit twitched—she hadn’t gone native before. Her eyes flicked to the front of his shorts, taking in the slight bulge behind the seam. Jac gave him a telling smile. Maybe she wouldn’t have to rough it in the backwoods after all.

Xavier raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as his eyes zeroed in on her tits. He guided Jac to her tent, pointing out the trail leading to a nearby stream.

“You have plenty of time to explore if you like before the meal will be served. I recommend the stream.” His eyes traveled up and down Jac’s legs, licking his lips, Xavier added. “Don’t go too far—it will be dark within an hour.”

“Thanks.” Jac saluted, then turned and stepped into her tent. The space was small, but adequate. Lucky for her, she wasn’t expecting the Ritz. Jac began to unpack. Pulling out the items she’d need for tonight, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see Xavier staring at her ass.

Jac smiled, then purposely dropped a pair of thong underwear onto the tent floor. Like an exotic dancer, she slowly bent at the waist, picked up the scrap of material, then slid it up the length of her long, long legs. She heard what sounded like choking, but by the time she turned Xavier was gone. Jac laughed. If she got bored later, she knew where to find him.

Two semi-automatic pistols were holstered and sitting on her cot. She picked them up and strapped them on against her thighs. Now she really did look like a blonde Lara Croft. She rifled through her pack and pulled out a baseball cap, shoving it on her head. Jac threw the opening of the tent back and inhaled.

The jungle had an odor of the untamed, even the flowery scent on the air smelled wild and savage. Her eyes took in the workers, each assigned to a specific task. They busied themselves with few glances coming her way. She couldn’t see Xavier, but figured he hadn’t gone far.

Jac trotted around the back of her tent to the trail Xavier had pointed out earlier. Despite the hour, the sun shone bright and unyielding, until she started down the path. Vines and roots grew in a mass tangle on the jungle floor, snaking their way up the various trees, clinging like parasites in search of elusive sunlight. Jac pushed giant ferns out of her way, taking care not to damage the plants. She’d always had a green thumb and prided herself on her ability to appreciate all things wild.

The sound of rushing water caught her attention and she picked up her pace. Just the thought of getting in a few laps before dinner had her salivating. The tri-athlete in her came out and she started to run, jumping over low vegetation, ducking around branches. In a few moments time she arrived at the edge of the stream, barely winded. A waterfall flowed twenty yards away churning up frothy bubbles before smoothing into a steady current. The spray was surprisingly cool and way too inviting to pass up. If she spotted an anaconda, she’d use it for target practice.

Jac drew one of her guns out of its holster, slipped the clip to check the ammo, before slamming it back inside, and then removed the safety. She wasn’t about to be caught unprepared. She set the pistol down and started to undress. The air was palpable and hotter than Hades.
How could anyone live down here?

Jac forced away a lump in her throat as she thought of poor Rachel. Somewhere in this god-forsaken place her friend was hurt, or even worse. She brushed her fingers through her hair, knocking her hat to the ground, and blew out a frustrated breath. Jac wouldn’t allow herself to even go down that road.

The last of her clothes dropped to the jungle floor. She walked barefooted across a thick blanket of grass, before reaching the waters edge. Jac bent over, stretching her tired calves. It felt wonderful to be naked. A light spray from the falls coated her skin, making it glisten in the sunshine. She stood up to her full height of five foot eleven, her nipples puckering in the warm air.

She stuck her toe in the water and was about to step in when a tingle of warning lanced through her a second before a set of large hands came from behind, covering her eyes. Jac sucked in a surprised breath. She hadn’t heard a thing, not a single step. A low growl near her ear told her the visitor was most definitely male, not that she’d had any doubt. Jac knew with a few select strikes she could drop this intruder, but she decided to see what kind of game he played first.

“Who’s there?” she called out, her body quivering with excitement.

Another low rumble sounded by her other ear.

“Xavier is that you?”

He gave her a quick lick at the base of her neck.

Jac purred. “You want to play?”

He stuck his nose against the side of her head and inhaled, taking in her scent.

Jac shivered, her nipples tightened to marbles and her pussy grew wet.

He pulled one hand away. Jac heard him fumble with something at his side, then a soft piece of cloth replaced his hands, covering her eyes. Jac smiled. She didn’t think native men would be so adventurous. Her heart kicked up a notch and she licked her lips in anticipation. Strong arms surrounded her, easing her to the ground, until she was flat on her back against the cool blades of grass. Feather soft, the grass caressed her bare skin, elevating her need with its tiny green fingers.

Jac loved games, especially sex games. They were always about trust and control. Although this was a first for her, Jac
never
allowed her lovers to have the upper hand, to be in control, especially when it came to sex. But for some reason, given the circumstances, she didn’t mind being subservient this time, so she decided to go for it.