Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EVIE
Mara spotted me before I reached the main platform.
“There she is. I was starting to think I’d have to charge you rent for that camp.” Mara stepped out from beneath the roof with a mug in one hand, her brown hair twisted into its usual messy bun as she watched me cross the last stretch of packed earth.
“I was gone two extra nights.” I shifted one of the heavier bags higher against my sore shoulder, feeling the strap dig into a spot that had been complaining for most of the walk back.
“Exactly.” Mara took a slow drink from her mug before glancing over the collection of gear hanging from me. “I was beginning to wonder what you found out there that was worth giving up the station bed for.”
“The extra nights were worth it. The macaws were excellent, and I got several more shots of the leopards.” I lowered the first bag beside the steps with a relieved exhale before sliding the second one down beside it and stretching my fingers.
“Those same three?” Mara stepped closer to help me move one of the cases beneath the roof, her interest sharpening as she took hold of the other side.
“Apparently they like the area.” I followed Mara onto the platform, keeping my answer comfortably true without adding anything remotely useful about exactly how much those three leopards liked the area—or me.
“You’ve had good luck with them.” Mara set the case beside the worktable and glanced toward me over the rim of her coffee. “Most people would be happy getting one decent leopard sighting, and you keep running into the same three.”
“They’re good subjects.” I lifted my camera bag onto the table and deliberately focused on undoing the buckles instead of Mara’s face.
“Clearly.” Mara took another drink, her attention lingering on me for a second before she let the subject go. “What about the stonework?”
“I got photographs. It’s mostly overgrown, and I didn’t disturb anything.” I opened the waterproof card case and checked each slot before removing the first full card.
“Good. Back everything up before we look at it.” Mara nodded toward the laptop as she stepped away from the table.
“That was already the plan.” I pulled the card reader closer, mildly offended on behalf of every memory card I had ever treated with more care than some people gave their phones.
Work took over from there, and I was grateful for something familiar to occupy my hands.
The first memory card began copying while I connected an external drive and unpacked the batteries.
Nearly empty ones went onto the charger, damp cloths were hung where moving air could reach them, and I opened the camera cases long enough to make sure no moisture had collected around the seals.
When the first transfer finished, I copied the files onto the second drive before opening several at random to verify they weren’t corrupted. Only then did I move to the next card.
The station filled the background around me in a way the field camp never had.
The generator hummed beyond one wall while a fan pushed warm air through the open work area without accomplishing much.
Somewhere near the back, something metal clanged as Mara moved supplies, and the faint smell of coffee mixed with dust, damp canvas, and electronics warming beneath the tropical heat.
After the last twenty-four hours, the ordinary sounds were strangely reassuring.
“That one.” Mara leaned over my shoulder sometime during the second transfer and pointed just above the screen without touching it, careful around my equipment even when she was impatient to see something.
I stopped scrolling. Malek filled the display in leopard form, standing partly in the creek while narrow strips of sunlight crossed his spotted coat.
His head was angled toward me rather than the water, golden-brown eyes fixed directly on the camera.
At the time, I had thought Cat was simply watching me.
Now I knew exactly who had been behind those eyes.
“That’s a strong one. He’s looking straight at you.” Mara leaned closer to study the image, her coffee forgotten near her chest.
“He does that.” I reached for the keyboard and moved to the next photograph before the answer could sound as personal as it felt. Mara’s attention shifted from the screen to me for a second.
“You really like photographing that one.” Mara straightened slowly, sounding more curious than certain as she took another sip from her mug.
“He photographs well.” I kept my attention firmly on the next image and pretended that was a complete answer.
“I can see that.” Mara let out a quiet laugh before walking away with her coffee instead of pushing for anything more. I decided not to volunteer anything and returned to the files. The next few hours passed easily enough. By the time I remembered food, lunch was later than I intended.
Mara joined me again while I went through the macaw photographs, stopping over one frame where two scarlet birds had their wings spread above the mineral seep.
“That one was worth the hike.” Mara leaned closer, following the spread of bright red feathers against the darker vegetation.
“Assuming it holds up full size.” I enlarged the photograph and checked both birds’ eyes, then relaxed when the detail stayed sharp. “It does.”
“Definitely keep it.” Mara tapped her pen against the edge of her notebook before moving her attention to the next photograph.
By early afternoon, my cards were duplicated, my notes were current, my equipment was clean, and the batteries I needed had enough charge for another outing. I checked my watch before my attention wandered toward the trees beyond the station.
Mara caught me.
“You’re going back out.” Mara looked up from the notebook in front of her, one eyebrow lifting as though the answer was already obvious from the camera in my hands.
“For a few hours.” I selected the lighter camera body and fitted the lens I wanted, checking that it locked properly before reaching for my bag.
“Where?” Mara uncapped her pen and pulled the route log closer, slipping immediately back into field-coordinator mode.
“Eastern fork, then probably south along the creek. I want another pass through the lower canopy while the light is decent.” I tightened the camera strap and slipped a spare battery into its usual pocket.
“Back by?” Mara lowered her attention to the log and wrote the route beside my name.
“Before six. I’ll call if I change direction.” I clipped the radio onto my belt and checked the emergency kit inside my bag before closing it.
“Going leopard hunting again?” Mara glanced up from the page, one corner of her mouth lifting.
“Photographing. There is a difference.” I zipped the bag and settled it over my shoulder.
“So you say. Try not to move into the forest permanently.” Mara closed the notebook and leaned back in her chair, looking entirely unconvinced.
“I make no promises.” I stepped backward toward the stairs, then caught myself when the answer sounded suspiciously like something Tavian would say.
Mara’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though she had noticed something odd about the answer even without having any idea who Tavian was.
I left before she could decide it deserved further investigation.
The walk toward the eastern fork felt much shorter without field-camp gear dragging at my shoulders.
I settled into the familiar rhythm of watching the canopy, paused when something moved high through the branches, and noted fresh tracks in the softer ground beside the creek, but part of my attention kept reaching ahead.
Yesterday, I would have expected three leopards somewhere near the fork.
Today, I knew who would actually be waiting.
Malek’s scent still clung faintly to the strap across my chest where he had rubbed his jaw over it that morning.
Luca lingered on a section of the bag he had handled while packing, and traces of Tavian seemed to be everywhere because the man had apparently touched half of my belongings before breakfast. Their scents were light beneath wet earth, vegetation, and humid air, but once I noticed them, they were difficult to ignore.
I probably should have minded that more.
Instead, I found myself picking up my pace a little as the eastern fork drew closer.
The trail curved around a broad tree trunk, revealing three men waiting beneath the shade.
Tavian sat on a fallen log with his forearms resting loosely against his thighs, his dark hair slightly damp from the humidity.
Luca stood several feet away with one shoulder against a tree, longer hair tied back at the nape.
Malek had positioned himself farther from the path where he could see both me and the surrounding forest.
Yesterday, seeing them like this had stopped my brain completely. Today, I paused for only a second before continuing toward them.
“Hey, photographer.” Tavian rose from the log in one smooth movement, his entire face brightening when he saw me.
“Menace.” I greeted Tavian automatically as I approached, the nickname still coming more easily than his actual name.
“You came back.” Luca pushed away from the tree, quiet pleasure warming his voice and the smile that followed.
“I said I would.” I shifted the camera strap against my shoulder, trying not to notice how much I liked that they had actually been waiting for me. Malek stayed where he was for another second. His golden-brown eyes traveled over my camera, radio, bag, and boots before finally settling on my face.
“Good.” Malek gave me a small nod, and something about how satisfied he sounded made it annoyingly difficult not to smile. Tavian’s nostrils flared. Luca paused halfway toward me, while some of the watchfulness eased from Malek’s face. Three reactions at once was enough to make me suspicious.
“What?” I asked the Alphas, moving my attention between them.
“Nothing.” Tavian rocked back on his heels, failing spectacularly to make his widening smile look innocent.