Rare Breed. Connie Hall

gaze held for just a split second, but long enough. His expression changed right before her eyes. The charismatic public pretense melted, and the emotion in his face turned raw and ugly. His gaze dissected her, piece by piece. She felt like a specimen under his microscope.

      In that instant she realized he fed off the weakness of others, like animals of prey. It hadn’t been the fire in her eyes as she’d spoken of the elephants that had turned him on, but the pain he’d seen in her face. As she did with any animal of prey she met his gaze squarely and showed no signs of vulnerability.

      Briefly they mentally circled each other in a he-knew-that-she-knew moment. An old African legend said that true enemies shared their souls, their strengths and their blood. Wynne felt that connection with Hellstrom like a blow to her gut, and she sensed that when it came down to the final battle, only one of them would survive.

      He broke the momentary trance and slammed the door and locked it. Now that there was no need for pretense between them, he wasn’t smiling, nor did he glance at her. He hurried past, yelling, “Jackie, wait!”

      Wynne followed in his wake, wondering if she had the strength to take Hellstrom on.

      Wynne found the bedroom Tungana had taken her to and slipped inside. She went to the bathroom, put her hair back in a ponytail, then changed into her working clothes. Hellstrom had given orders to Tungana for her to wear the red dress. It was just another avenue of his manipulation, and she had to let Hellstrom know she wouldn’t be controlled by him.

      If she was going to face Hellstrom, she’d do it in her own clothes, battle clothes. She retied the slingshot around her waist, then secured the dagger at her ankle. Next came her combat boots. As she stared at the ranger in the mirror, she felt ready to face Hellstrom again. This time on her terms.

      The thought of leaving occurred to her, but she needed to question MacKay and probe him for information about his involvement with Hellstrom.

      A few moments later, she left the room and strode down the steps, toward the dining room, avoiding several servants whose arms were laden with crates. A girl trailed behind them, a basket loaded with food and canned goods balanced on her head. Wynne knew this hallway led directly to the house’s kitchen and back exit, close to the garages. Hellstrom’s party preparations certainly had to have been done by now. So where were these provisions going? And for what?

      “Someone moving?” Wynne casually asked the girl, blocking her way.

      The girl looked maybe fifteen, with beautiful bronze skin and eyes that appeared shy and frightened of everything. “Don’t know, miss. Please, I’m behind.” She nodded to the men in front of her.

      Wynne knew this girl wouldn’t talk, so she let her pass. She started to follow them, but someone tapped her on the back. She wheeled around and saw Tungana looking up at her.

      His lips pursed with suppressed fury, and she realized she was seeing another side of Tungana that he kept well hidden. The voices she’d heard outside of Hellstrom’s office must have been Tungana and Hellstrom looking for her.