Fever by Autumn Archer
4
“Malaria?” I suggest, giving myself a measure of self-preservation from the beauty splayed on the bed.
Fiery red spirals have lost their bounce from the hours exposed to a moist climate, matted with blood and sweat. Opalescent skin glows under the clinical lighting in the operating room. A flush of pastel pink heats high cheekbones, disguising soft brown freckles scattering across a pointed nose in a disorderly sequence. Delicate shoulders shiver and shake under a spell of rampant chills. When she fell at my feet, weak and destroyed by mosquitoes, she looked like winter fighting the haze of a scorching summer day.
A rare paradox of suffering and beauty.
Spoiled perfection.
As I carried her to the triage room, I noted she was wearing one boot and a shoe twice the size of her dainty foot. Skin made for cooler weather wraps narrow ankles, bruised and blistered from days of hiking. It’s clear to me she braved the journey alone, courageous and gutsy. Given the lack of fresh water and proper clothing, it’s a wonder she lasted as long as she did. A few more hours and those parched, bitten limbs would have wilted.
I stripped away a soggy tank top and mucky neutral pants, unlocking a breathtaking sight that made my blood seethe with lust. It’s an extraordinary quiver of interest. A fiery sensation I haven’t cared for in so long.
The priority isn’t fucking or settling down with a pretty wife and a pet cub. Enemies manipulate and ruin a man’s closest connections to weaken and break them. Year after year, my heart has shriveled under the cladding of steel armor preventing another string from being snipped from my bow.
Yet, I’m not oblivious to the whisper of intrigue plaguing me. I revolt against it, shuttering the pointless fascination for a woman I can’t trust. I cover her pocked torso with a thin sheet and revert to the major issue at hand.
I’ve been compromised.
The end goal is in jeopardy.
I’ve built this tropical complex to meet my strict specifications. Luxury accommodation, an expectation of the wealthy clients, and a superior medical facility. Guests arrive incognito, unseen by anyone who isn't on my payroll. They require discretion. I demand it. So why the fuck is there an unknown female in my territory?
Jackson shakes his head. The subtle movement pulls my attention away from the woman and straight to him. “It’s that nasty laceration on her cheek. Look, it’s infected.” He points to puffy, inflamed skin oozing a yellowish hue. “It will leave a nasty scar on her pretty face.”
My surgeon and confidant slaps a wet cloth on her forehead. His bedside manner is usually impeccable, yet for some reason his casual approach toward her irks me.
Four years ago, Jackson, as he’s known now, was operating on a high-profile patient. During routine heart surgery, someone accidentally snipped a vital vein. They charged him with first degree murder. The homicide squad wasn’t interested in the imposter who assisted him that day. There was no evidence to stick it on an assassin. It all pointed to the lead physician.
Jackson is the only man I trust with my identity and my past. With his life in my hands, he knows better than to choose disloyalty. The swerve in his career has given him the opportunity to learn new skills. Cutting flesh is the same. Now his expertise slants toward facial modifications and character tweaks.
My insides blacken with fire. “Will the fever kill her?” Wishful thinking. A natural death would solve my predicament.
Jackson pricks a blue vein in the crook of her arm and hooks a pouch of clear solution to a stand by her bedside. “This will help with the dehydration. She should respond to the antibiotics in a few days. I highly doubt she’ll die, unless . . .”
His head turns, pinning me with a narrowed stare. I stuff an uncovered palm into my damp hair and growl. “Don’t look at me like that.” Searching eyes penetrate my confusion. “What about her face?”
“I can’t do anything until the fever is under control, Dante. Who is she? Did you pray for an unconscious woman to miraculously drop from a thundercloud?”
I swallow hard. Unfortunately for her, she’s fallen onto the dark side of the moon. “Not unconscious. As if by chance, I found her all alone in the jungle.” His seat squeaks as he leans back. “She saw me like this.” My eyebrows lift, indicating my lack of disguise.
“Fuck!” Jackson scoots away from the bed on the wheeled stool, hands raised like I’ve caught him fiddling. “Is there any point treating her if you’re going to feed the poor woman to the beasts in the morning?” The pronunciation of his words rolls around a blue-blooded British accent.
He has a point. An excellent observation. I’ve punished men before. Never women. And we both know those statistics will alter in the coming months.
“She said she’s an ecologist.” I smirk with a disbelieving grunt. “A while back, I authorized two male scientists to carry out research beyond the border. Whoever sent her to spy on me will come looking for her at some point. In the meantime, I’ll think of a way to deal with our unexpected guest. It’s not that difficult to make someone disappear.”
“Disappear?” Jackson shoots me a glare. “She’s done nothing to you, Dante. You’re being paranoid. How could that—” He stops and jabs a finger at the fragile woman lying flat on her back. The only color within the room is the sheen of glorious red cascading over white sheets. “How could you think she’s an undercover agent? You’ve been living like a recluse for too long, my friend. All this scheming and secrecy has fucked with your head. Have you checked with Alonso?”
My head of security understands privacy is paramount and non-negotiable. “He’s on his way here to enlighten me.” She doesn’t look like a traitor, then again neither did Maria. The informant whose time is ticking before I push the switch to end her life. Justice will be served. Maria will die just like the others. I shrug to myself and replace my cap on the crown of my head. “I’ll keep this one alive until I find out if she’s lying. If she is, I’ll take great pleasure in adding her to the list. But it could pose a bigger problem. I’ll have to find out who the fuck wants to watch this place, and if it’s me they’re after or the facility.”
I’ve been patiently plotting for so long. The targets have no idea I’m striking them off one by one. Erased by Dante Valez. Another dead body will tip the scales further into purgatory, but that's the sacrifice I’m willing to make for justice.
The reality of my foreign female being on my enemy’s payroll is highly unlikely, given her odd accent and fair skin. Nonetheless, she’s seen me. What she saw in the forest can’t be unseen. It’s goodbye to her old life.
Worn gloves cover my hands again, and dark glasses dim the world. Alonso and his second in command, Luiz, enter the treatment room and stand side by side, feet apart, chins held high. Both are kitted out in camo with matching headgear. They look the part, difficult to detect in the undergrowth, until they enter a stark and sterile treatment room.
“Well, who the fuck is she?” I growl, sticking my glower to Alonso’s tight features.
Being the guy in charge of the entire security team, he should damn well know every detail about her, right down to her last meal. Alonso keeps his gaze on the injured woman and swallows in a gulp. “Unknown, sir.”
“Un-fucking-known?” My brows snap up. “I allowed two male scientists. Two fucking males, Alonso. And you know what? She told me she’s an ecologist. And with a body like that, she sure as hell isn’t a fucking male.”
Alonso’s quick breath doesn't go unnoticed. He’s fucked up. “Sir, I received an email a few weeks ago stating there was a change to the original request. Only one male was flying in from the United Kingdom. There wasn’t a follow up email with a further request.”
“And yet, here we are. There’s an unconscious woman in my facility and you’re telling me you have no intel on her? How the fuck did she end up even close to the oasis? Don’t we have trackers on the perimeter fencing?” Jackson jolts when I kick the medical cabinet with my boot.
“Can you take this outside, please?” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “I have a patient to tend to.”
I cross the glossy floor, cruising before the two men. “Alonso?” The ire in my tone sends ripples of promised repercussions through the astringent air. “You understand what the ramifications of betrayal are, right?”
“Sir, the pilot didn’t report a second person.”
“It’s not up to the pilot, asshole,” I snap. “It’s up to the head of security to inspect all arrivals and departures. How do I know you’re not plotting against me? Did you plant the woman? Are you a fucking spy too?” A sickly snarl of distrust grows deadlier with each thought. “Why didn’t you greet them on site and go over the rules?”
“I was . . .” His hands curl by his sides. “I was touring the local villages to ensure allegiance is maintained.”
“You left the oasis without my permission?” His response confirms his incompetence. “Fuck! I bet you met up with my enemies, didn’t you?” The heat of my anger blazes through my limbs, burning with a perpetual temper.
“No, sir,” he exclaims. “I—”
“You’re a fucking liar, Alonso,” I interrupt and glance at Luiz to ask, “Did the patrol go too?”
Luiz’s jaw clenches before he meets my gaze. “No, sir. He went alone.”
Alonso sighs heavily. “Before I left, we scheduled a visit to the campsite for tomorrow morning,” he barters with a strangled rasp. “I’ll check the electric wire while we’re out there, and I’ll begin my research on the woman right away.”
“Not good enough.” I prowl closer. “I demand loyalty, respect, and complete seclusion. Because of your idleness and lack of honor, everything I’ve built here is at risk.” I lean in, glaring at his pathetic face. “I don’t trust you.” Alonso’s eyes flick to mine. Copper disks flare with the realization of his epic mistake. “Take his weapon and get rid of him.” My stern expression cuts to Luiz. “You’re in charge now. Don’t let me down.”
“No, el Fantasma . . . no. I promise.” Alonso retreats to the exit, wide eyed with twitchy fingers hovering at his holster.
That single threat of violence welcomes all my demons to scramble free of my nightmares. With Jackson behind me, and in danger of a stray bullet, my fury flares.
In two strides, I swipe Luiz’s gun from his hip and aim it toward Alonso’s forehead. “I warned you of the consequences, Alonso. I gave you a chance to prove your worth, and now a stranger has infiltrated my home. If you survive the jungle, which you won’t, I’ll put a bullet in your fucking temple.”
Lowering the weapon, I fire one shot at his femur. The instant supersonic crack of steel tearing through the air to pierce flesh and bone jangles in my empty subconscious. An intimate and troublesome tune of death whispers to my soul and reminds me of the day I’ll never forget. The reason I seek vengeance. The graveness of this man’s deception. Alonso shrieks as his knee gives way. Loose camo pants soak up hemorrhaging blood. “Get him the fuck out of here.” I offer Luiz his gun before he rotates at speed to face the whimpering asshole grappling for freedom. “Take him five miles west as the crow flies. Drop him in the lake.”
“Understood, sir,” Luiz replies, jabbing the firearm at his ex-superior.
“Find the other scientist. The woman said he was killed. If she’s lying and he’s alive, bring him here.”
I could take Alonso’s life with another squeeze of the trigger. It would be fast and less brutal than offering him to Mother Nature. He knew the price. He accepted the title. He understood the repercussions.
It has to be this way.
Cold.
Barbaric.
Final.
The two men scuffle as Alfonso wrestles in a losing battle. I don’t look back over my shoulder at the dead man being trailed out of the room. Instead, my eyes rest on the next problem––the motionless woman with no identity and the face of a goddess.
“She’ll never leave the oasis,” I confirm, rubbing my temples.
Jackson sighs. “How will that work?”
Everything has changed since a bright red light burst into the sky announcing temptation. “While she’s out of it, she’s not a threat. That gives me time.”
“And what if she really is a scientist, Dante?” Jackson wears a pristine white lab coat and a concerned scowl. “Will you let her go home?”
“What do you think, Jackson,” I snap. “You and Sal are the only ones who see all this.” Each word spits out, and my covered palms span outward. “You barely leave the oasis, and he’s signed his allegiance to me.” A heaviness settles in my chest. The beauty flitting in and out of consciousness is a monstrous complication. “What do you suggest?”
His shoulders lift. “She’s not bad looking. Maybe––”
“Don’t even think about it.” For the first time in years, a trickle of disquiet creeps in. A wave of protection mocks my resolute plan to kill my enemies. “That's not what this is about.”
“I wasn’t talking about me.” Pale eyebrows lift. “Keep the woman for yourself. You’re never away from here long enough to––”
“No,” I bite out. The last woman I fucked for sex turned out to be the most treacherous of the four marked lives. “She’s a minor complication. Fucking her is not on the agenda. We can’t trust her. I’ve traveled that road before, and we know how that ended.”
My muscles brace. A shiver of regret rushes over me, like it always does when the hardest lesson of my life flashes in my mind.
“Dante.” Jackson is the only one left who calls me by that name. I’m not really Dante anymore. That man died in the flames. However, the lashing of remorse I get from hearing my proper name, reinforces hatred and taps into my heart, fortifying my impenetrable barriers.
I glance at the bed where she mumbles in a battle of wills. Even in the grip of a soaring fever, she’s fighting for survival. Stunning and exquisite.
“What do we do? Lock her in a cabin and let her rot to death?”
That idea has merit. “An employee, in basic terms. She can cook and clean, or whatever, until I find out who she is.”
All the stealth staff are well paid. They go undetected. Veiled by darkness and seldom noticed by the guests. What they give to me in service, I repay with big salaries and donations to the local community. My kindness is not a weakness, it’s a calculated plan to ensure the inhabitants serve and obey me.
The red-haired woman is only an illusion. An untrustworthy spirit of the forest who must be kept on a short leash. Neither she nor I will cross paths.
“Like a prisoner in paradise?” Jackson rips off tight surgical gloves and tosses them in the trash can. “If you didn’t have an enemy in her before, you will now.”
“And if she’s a traitor, she’ll wish I left her in the jungle for it to swallow her whole.”
I’d rather not drop her beyond the perimeter. If she doesn’t comply with my offer, I’ll have no choice. Now that she’s seen me, she won’t leave here alive.
“And if she refuses to work for you?”
“That’s on her.” I shrug. “The only way out is by foot.”
