Book 1 - Chapter 2 (1/2)

Grace Carlyle always hoped she'd die from intense pleasure while having s.e.x with her husband. Well, she wasn't married, and she'd never had s.e.x, but she was still going to die.

And not from intense pleasure.

From heat exhaustion? Maybe.

From hunger? Possibly.

From her own stupidity? Absolutely.

She was lost and alone in the freaking Amazon jungle.

As she strode past tangled green vines and towering trees, beads of sweat trickled down her chest and back. Small shards of light seeped from the leafy canopy above, providing hazy visibility. Barely adequate, but appreciated. The smells of rotting vegetation, old rain and flowers mingled together, forming a conflicting fragrance of sweet and sour. She wrinkled her nose.

”All I wanted was a little excitement,” she muttered. ”Instead I end up broke, lost, and trapped in this bug-infested sauna.”

To complete her descent into h.e.l.l, she expected the sky to open and pour out a deluge of rain at any moment.

The only good thing about her current circ.u.mstances was that all this hiking and sweating might actually help her lose a few pounds from her too-curvy figure. Not that losing weight did her any good here. Except, perhaps, in her obituary.

New Yorker found dead in Amazon

At least she looked good

Scowling, she swatted a mosquito trying to drink her arm dry-even though she'd applied several layers of ucuru oil to prevent such bites. Where the h.e.l.l was Alex? She should have run into her brother by now. Or, at the very least, stumbled upon a tour group. Or even blundered upon an indigenous tribe.

If only she hadn't taken an extended leave of absence from AirTravel, she'd be soaring through the air, relaxed and listening to the hypnotic hum of a jet engine.

”I'd be in an air-conditioned G-IV,” she said, slas.h.i.+ng her hand like a machete through the thick, green foliage. ”I'd be sipping vanilla c.o.ke.” Another slash. ”I'd be listening to my co-workers discuss stiletto heels, expensive dates and mind-shattering o.r.g.a.s.ms.”

And I'd still be miserable , she thought, wis.h.i.+ng I were anywhere else .

She stopped abruptly and closed her eyes. I just want to be happy. Is that too much to ask ?

Obviously.

So often lately she battled a sense of discontent, a desire to experience so much more. Her mother had tried to warn her what such discontent would bring her. ”You're going to get yourself in trouble,” she'd admonished. But had Grace listened? Noooo . Instead she'd followed her aunt Sophie's lovely bit of wisdom. Aunt Sophie, for G.o.d's sake! The woman who wore leopard print spandex and cavorted with mailmen and strippers. ”I know you've done some exciting things, Gracie honey,” Sophie had said, ”but that's not really living. Something's missing from your life and if you don't find it, you'll end up a shriveled old prune like your mom.”

Something was missing from Grace's life. She knew that, and in an effort to find that mysterious ”something,” she'd tried speed dating, Internet dating and singles bars. When those failed, she decided to give night school a try. Not to meet men, but to learn. Not that the cosmetology cla.s.ses had done her any good. The best stylists in the world couldn't tame her wild red curls. After that, she'd tried race-car driving and step cla.s.s. She'd even gotten her belly b.u.t.ton pierced. Nothing helped.

What would it take to make her feel whole, complete?

”Not this jungle, that's for sure,” she grumbled, jolting back into motion. ”Someone please tell me,” she said to the heavens, ”why satisfaction always dances so quickly out of my reach. I'm dying to know.”

Traveling the world had always been her dream, and becoming a flight attendant for a private charter had seemed like the perfect job for her. She hadn't realized she would become an airborne waitress, jaunting from hotel to hotel, never actually enjoying the state/country/h.e.l.lhole she found herself in. Sure, she'd scaled mountains, surfed the ocean waves and jumped from a plane, but the joy of those adventures never remained and like everything else she'd tried, they always left her feeling more unsatisfied than before.

That's why she had come here, to try something new. Something with a bit more danger. Her brother was an employee of Argonauts, a myth.o.a.rchaeological company that had recently discovered the crude glider constructed by Daedalus of Athens-a discovery that rocked the scientific and mythological communities. Alex spent his days and nights delving deep into the world's myths, proving or disproving them.

With such a fulfilling job, he didn't have to worry about becoming a shriveled old prune. Not like me , she lamented.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Grace increased her pace. About a week ago, Alex had s.h.i.+pped her a package containing his journal and a gorgeous necklace with two dangling, intertwined dragon heads. No note of ex-planation accompanied the gifts. Knowing he was in Brazil and looking for a portal that led into the lost city of Atlantis she'd decided to join him, leaving a message on his cell phone with details of her flight.

With a sigh, she fingered the dragon chain hanging at her neck. When Alex failed to pick her up at the airport, she should have returned home. ”But nooo,” she said with deep self-loathing, suddenly more aware of her dry, cotton mouth. ”I hired a local guide and tried to find him. ' Si, senhorina,'” she mimicked the guide. '”Of course, senhorina . Anything at all, senhorina.”'

”b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” she muttered.

Today, two miserable days into her trek, her kind, considerate, I-only-want-to-help-you guide had stolen her backpack and abandoned her here. Now she had no food, no water, no tent. She did, however, have a weapon. A weapon she had used to shoot that b.a.s.t.a.r.d in the a.s.s as he ran away. The memory caused her lips to curl in a slow smile, and she lovingly patted the revolver resting in the waist of her dirty canvas pants.

Her smile didn't last long, however, as the midday heat continued to pound against her. In all her wildest dreams, her need for fulfillment had never ended like this. She'd envisioned laughter and-

Something hard slammed into her head and jostled her forward. She yelped, her heart pounding in her chest as she rubbed her now throbbing temple and skimmed her gaze over the ground, searching for the source of her pain.

Oh, thank you, thank you , she mentally cried when she spied the rosy-colored fruit. Mouth watering, she studied the delicious-looking juice seeping from the smashed remains. Was it poisonous? And did she care if it was? She licked her lips. No, she didn't care. Death by poison was preferable to walking away from this unexpected treasure.

Just as she reached down to scoop up what she could, another missile crashed into her back.

She gasped and jerked upright.

Spinning, she sent her narrowed gaze through the trees. About ten yards away and fifteen feet up she discovered a small, hairy monkey holding a piece of fruit in each hand. Her jaw dropped open in disbelief. Was he... smiling?

He swung back both of his arms and launched each piece at her. She was too stunned to move and simply watched as they splattered against her pants, stinging her thighs with their impact. Laughing, proud of himself, the monkey jumped up and down and waved his limbs wildly through the air.

She knew what he was thinking: ha, ha, there's nothing you can do about it . This was too much. Robbed, abandoned, then a.s.saulted by a primate who should pitch for the Yankees. Scowling, at her wits end, she picked up the fruit, claimed two mouthwatering bites, paused, claimed two more bites, then launched what was left. She nailed her target in the ear. He lost his smile.

”Nothing I can do about it, huh? Well, take that, you rotten fuzz ball.”

Her victory was short-lived. In the next instant, fruit sailed at her from every direction. Monkeys littered the trees! Realizing she was outnumbered and outgunned, Grace grabbed what fruit she could, ducked behind a tree, jumped over a swarm of fire ants and ran. Ran without knowing what direction she traveled. Ran until she was certain her lungs would collapse from exertion.

When she finally slowed her pace, she sucked in a breath, then bit into her bounty. Sucked in another breath, then bit into the fruit again, continually alternating between the two. As the sweet juices ran down her throat, she moaned in surrender.

Life is good , she thought.

Until another hour pa.s.sed. By then her body forgot that she'd had any nourishment, and lethargy beat rough fists inside her, causing her feet to drag. Her bones were liquefying, and her mouth felt dryer than sand. But she kept walking, each step creating a mantra in her brain. Find. Alex. Find. Alex. Find. Alex. He was out here somewhere, looking for that silly portal, perhaps blithely unaware of her presence.

Unfortunately the deeper she roamed through the jungle the more lost and alone she became. The trees and liana thickened, as did the darkness. At least the scent of rot evaporated, leaving only a luscious trace of wild heliconias and dewy orchids. If she didn't find shelter soon, she would collapse wherever she found herself, helpless against nature. Though her vaccinations were up-to-date, she hated snakes and insects more than hunger and fatigue.