All he could think of was Emma. The way she smiled. The way she pressed him and ignored his bouts of surliness. The way she gave her all every time they made love.
A derisive snort escaped him. Somewhere along the line, Emma had crept into the empty spaces inside him. It was a damn uncomfortable sensation, but he’d come to enjoy her presence.
A flash of red caught his eye, and he hurried along the beach to intercept her. “Emma. Where the hell have you been?” A wave of pain doubled him over. Sex. Shit, now. Jack jerked her against his chest, shuddering at the feminine feel of her. Her sunset hair was ruffled and dirt coated one cheek. He lifted a trembling hand, battling nausea and acute stomach pangs to unbutton her shirt. A quickie to take the edge off, to stave the pain and halt the shift to taniwha. He fumbled, his nails well on the way to transformation.
“We have to go now.” Emma fought for breath, her breasts heaving, her brow moist with sweat. She glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing? Shit! They’re coming. We’ve got to hide.”
The scent of blood distracted him, and his nostrils flared. The coppery tang was coming from her. He seized her hands and saw her wrists were bloodied when she pushed against his chest.
“What happened?” Damn, his voice was changing. Desperation swelled along with pain. Sex. Now.
“Run.” Emma grabbed his forearm. “They’re after me.”
A gunshot punctuated her words, sounding much like the clay pigeon shooters, but Emma took off like a startled gazelle. She sprinted across the sand toward the river mouth. Jack lumbered after her, trying to focus on moving one foot after the other. Waves of torment engulfed him, sharp and intense. His hands had turned. If the transformation progressed much further he wouldn’t be able to come back—not for twenty-four hours.
The soft sand changed to oozing mud. It sucked at his sandaled feet and slowed his progress. Fighting the aches and throbs of protesting muscles, Jack paused to rip off his shirt and yank off his leather sandals. Pearly scales already covered his chest, ranging over more skin with each gathering minute. He glanced at Emma as she darted between two mangrove trees. His brave and determined Emma. He hobbled after her, struggling past the grasping branches of the mangrove trees that gouged his limbs.
The pungent scent of the mud and the salty tang of the water called his dragon soul.
Emma.
Regret pierced him along with sorrow, and in that moment, he realized he cared more for her than he ever had for another woman. And he was going to lose her, if he didn’t scare her to death first.
Jack’s senses sharpened. The thudding of running feet following them continued, the harsh sound of the men’s breathing a signal to hurry.
“Emma,” he growled. “Into the water.”
Her face whitened noticeably. “No, I can’t swim.”
But he could since taniwhas—the species he belonged to—were creatures of the water. “Climb on my back.” He had to concentrate to force out the words.
Emma hesitated but the crack of a firing gun—closer now and not of the clay pigeon variety—galvanized her to action.
Jack ripped off his remaining clothes and waded into the water. “Come.” His low, growly voice was barely recognizable. He glanced at Emma and winced.
“W-what is happening to you?” The clear shock on her face told him the transformation from man to taniwha had progressed enough to traumatize a human. His gut burned, his throat tightened with the need to rail at fate. No time to explain. Their pursuers were still crashing through the undergrowth, coming closer, closer, closer.
He grabbed Emma and tugged her resisting body into deeper water.
“No. No.” She attempted to dig in her heels, panic lending her strength. The men’s shouts sounded near as they searched for them amongst the mangroves.
Knowing he didn’t have another option, he allowed the image of his dragon to form in his mind. Muscles and bones lengthened, his face changed, elongating to fit the sharp teeth and fangs that developed in his mouth. His nostrils changed shape, as did his eyes. A long tail formed, making him appear larger than his normal six foot two. His arms and legs changed into strong, webbed limbs suitable for swimming.
Fully shifted, the taniwha resembled a water beast, half dragon, half Loch Ness monster in appearance, capable of inflicting mortal wounds to enemies. He waded deeper into the water, and Emma started to cling instead of attempting to flee.
Jack filled his lungs with air and began to swim. He kept just below the surface instead of diving into the watery depths as he normally would if he was on his own. Emma needed to breathe but if he kept his body low, she wouldn’t be too visible. He headed for the mainland, his heart heavy.