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had been leading here—to him. Maybe she was destined to help Yaguara rather than expose them.
    â€œWe,” he agreed softly. “You are a part of this, Amber. I will not leave you to face it alone. You have my word.”
    Amber stared up at Jareth’s strong features, shadowed by the beam of moonlight twining through tree limbs, wishing she could read his expression. She didn’t need to see his face though, to feel the growing bond between them. It made her weak in the knees, damp between the legs, and warm in the heart. That was surreal, considering the violence responsible for bringing them together.
    â€œHelp! Help! We need help!”
    The distant shout tore through the calm moment and settled in her stomach with the jagged-edged promise that something horrible had happened. Jareth and Amber locked gazes, silent understanding between them, and they launched into a run, toward the camp. The shouts grew louder, more urgent. The instant they entered the camp, a huddle of workers surrounded them.
    â€œJaguars!”
    â€œA cat attacked Chris!”
    Amber’s heart fell to her feet. Chris was twenty-two—a college intern. Too young to die.
    â€œIs he alone?” Amber demanded.
    â€œNo,” the man said. “Mike and many others are with him. The cats won’t let them touch Chris.”
    â€œWhere?” Jareth demanded.
    Another man responded, “Over the hill, over the hill!”
    â€œI can take you! But you will need a gun,” the first man said. “The cats are everywhere.”
    â€œI don’t need a gun,” Jareth said. “I suspect that’s what got us in this situation in the first place.” Jareth turned to Amber. “Stay here.” He didn’t give her time to respond. He cut his gaze back to the man. “Take me.”
    Amber wasn’t about to stay behind. “Jareth . . .” But he was already on the move, leaving her behind. Amber hesitated, recognizing she had to leave prepared. Jareth might not need protection, but she did. Racing toward the cluster of tents at one corner of the camp, she found her own, and snagged a tranquilizer gun from inside. Not that she thought she would need it with Jareth around, but he’d left her behind, and she had to reach him.
    In a matter of seconds, she returned to the company of her frazzled workers. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured them all. She hoped. She prayed. Poor Chris. She raised her voice. “Everyone, stay calm and be ready with your weapons in case they are needed. Do not fire unless absolutely necessary. You might make it worse.” She turned to one of the women. “Call for an ambulance.” She motioned to several men. “Go to the road to direct them back here.” Then she focused on one of the two men who’d informed them of the danger, of Chris being somewhere over the hill. “Take me to Chris.”
    For an instant he hesitated, as if afraid, his hands tightly gripping his weapon before he started running. Amber’s heart raced, partly from what she estimated to be a two-mile hard run up a steep, rocky mountain terrain, but more so from the fear of what she would see when she found Chris.
    And that fear turned out to have good cause when they cleared the top of the slope and found themselves right inside the scene unfolding. Amber stopped dead in her tracks, barely biting back a gasp, at the sight of Chris lying on the ground, his chest mangled and bleeding, clearly having taken a swipe from a powerful paw.
    Jareth, and Jareth alone, stood beside him, with an intimidating line of at least a half-dozen snarling, bigger-than-life jaguars a few feet behind him. Yet he appeared unfazed. Ten-plus men stood opposite the cats, weapons aimed.
    Mike was amongst those men, and the only one not aiming his weapon at the cats—he was aiming at Jareth. Amber’s racing heart dropped to her stomach. “What’s going on,